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rosepetalgold · 2 years ago

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all the silver stolen (will one day turn to gold) 1

Summary: Janus is an exceptionally good thief, if he does say so himself. Sure, his life of petty crime alongside Virgil and Remus isn’t ideal, exactly, but it’s good enough—until he tries to pickpocket the wrong person and learns three life-changing things: One, mages are terrifyingly real, go by the name of Logan, and do not appreciate being stolen from. Two, Remus has a twin brother. And three, Remus is actually the crown prince of the neighboring country, forced to start a new life after being framed for treason and left for dead in a brutal coup.

Whisked off to a new nation with Remus and Virgil, Janus struggles to adjust to high society and a life of court politics and intrigue, his inherent distrust of magic and his rocky—to put it lightly—relationship with Logan only complicating matters further. Trouble soon begins brewing in the kingdom as well, bringing with it whispers of old threats to the newly reunited princes, and when things go horribly wrong, Janus is forced to confront two questions with extraordinary consequences: How selfish is he, exactly? And just what is he prepared to sacrifice for those he loves?

Relationships: Romantic Loceit, background romantic Prinxiety, found family all around

Warnings for this chapter: Injury to a main character (for a full list of major warnings, check the tags on Ao3)

Word Count: 7316

Notes: My fic for the Thomas Sanders Big Bang 2022 (@sandersidesbigbang)! This is by far the longest fic I've ever written, and although it is responsible for me spending countless hours staring blankly at a google doc, it has definitely been a labor of love. I'm so excited to share it, and I hope you enjoy! Updates weekly!

A huge thank you to my wonderful beta readers Peregrin (@iclaimedtobethebetterbard) and Saphira (@dragonsaphirareads) for all their help wrangling the plot into something coherent and for all their feedback, as well as for not once complaining despite this beast of a fic more than doubling in length from its original estimated word count. They are truly amazing, and this story wouldn't be the same without them!

Also be sure to check out the absolutely stunning art from the two incredible artists I got to work with, Crow (@thecrowslullaby) and Hedgey (@hedgeyart)! I will link to Crow's work in the respective chapters, but in the meantime you can both dazzle your eyes and get a spoiler-free teaser of the later part of the fic by heading over to Hedgey's piece right here.

Read on Ao3 Masterpost

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Janus is an exceptionally good thief, if he does say so himself. Such a claim isn’t even bragging, not when he has the proof to back it up; he knows how to slip unnoticed through empty and crowded marketplaces alike, knows how to steal coin purses and jewelry and watches right off of any unsuspecting person and leave them none the wiser of his actions, knows how to sell what he’s acquired for a fair price on the black market. He’s had to learn such things just to survive, especially given how he’d first found himself on the streets, young and frightened and overwhelmed, a life of crime the only thing standing between himself and a long, slow death of starvation.

But more than being a talented thief, Janus is a smart thief. He knows how to select the best mark while avoiding the plainclothes guards just waiting to catch an unwary pickpocket, knows how to take advantage of a distraction or create one himself, knows how to judge which risks are worth taking and which are better left unchanced. His quick fingers may be what has granted him enough food and money to keep himself alive, but it’s his even quicker mind that has allowed him to evade the common thief’s fate of a short drop and a sudden stop for so many years.

Unfortunately, Janus is also currently a desperate thief, and desperate thieves are apt to do extraordinarily dangerous things, which is how he finds himself fumbling his lockpicks into his freezing hands as he crouches outside a fancy stone building in the middle of the night, no backup in sight and only the barest bones of a plan rattling around inside his skull. Breaking into any building, let alone an apothecary, is high-risk enough that he would normally never even consider such a thing, loath to put himself in such a perilous situation when he’s perfectly content weaving through crowds as his fingers dance in and out of pockets. But Virgil had taken a nasty fall by the run-down blacksmith’s forge a few days prior, gashing his leg open on a jagged piece of metal sticking out of a scrap pile, and the wound was now clearly infected, angrily inflamed and leaking foul-smelling pus as Virgil grew clammy and delirious.

If it were anyone else, Janus would have simply told them to hope for the best but make peace with whatever gods they believed in in the likely event of the worst, but Virgil is nothing if not an exception to all of Janus’ rules. Janus had practically raised the other man despite being only a handful of years older than him, had taken him in and tried his best to keep him clothed and fed while he’d taught him how to steal, nevermind that he’d barely been able to support himself, let alone anyone else. It had taken a lot from both of them to build trust, and even more for their wary alliance to slowly bloom into genuine friendship, but somehow, impossibly, it had, the venom in their sarcastic comments and snarky remarks mellowed save for the occasional argument.

Remus had come along a few years later and fallen in easily to make their duo a trio, more because of his uncanny ability to always be around and his refusal to leave rather than because of any official invitation to join. There had been something odd about him from the very beginning, something in the hint of an accent that sometimes slipped out and the foreign cut of his clothes and the shimmering gold necklace that he always wore against his chest and refused to take off, the sum of it all enough to give Janus pause, but he’d proven himself early by getting Janus out of a bind with some guards and his eyes had lit up with unrestrained glee when Janus had begun to plot crimes with him, so into the group he’d come. Given his own undisclosed past, Janus has never pressed Remus to lay bare his secrets, content just to take any observations he makes and tuck them away to mull over when he has a spare moment, trying to tease Remus’ life story from the scraps of details he’s collected and never getting too far because really, he has better things to worry about, like where he’ll get food for the day or how to get Virgil new boots in the middle of winter.

It’s comfortingly familiar by now, the way they work together, two of them operating in tandem to distract and pickpocket their mark while the third keeps a lookout, years of practice making the three of them a formidable team. Occasionally they’ll split up to cover more ground or one of them will find an odd job and jump at the opportunity for a few guaranteed coins, but for the most part they stick together, finding safety in numbers and taking comfort in knowing that someone they trust is watching their backs.

Tonight, though, with Virgil down for the count and Remus watching over him, it’s just Janus. The pressure of potentially having Virgil’s life in his hands is doing wonders for his nerves, truly. That churning sensation in his stomach is adding a delightful bit of excitement to what would otherwise clearly be a dreadfully boring situation.

Despite the severity of Virgil’s injury, taking him to a healer had been soundly out of the question; physicians’ rates were much too high for the three of them to afford even if they cashed out their meager savings, and even if they could have somehow found the money, they couldn’t risk a doctor getting suspicious about how a trio of obvious street urchins had managed to afford his services.

So breaking into the apothecary it is.

Virgil had always been the best lockpick out of the three of them, but Janus manages to wiggle the tiny tools into the lock, biting back a string of curses that would make even Remus blush as he struggles to to maneuver the instruments properly.

Rude of people to actually lock their doors and protect their valuables. Completely uncalled for.

Finally, after entirely too many minutes of fiddling with the picks with bated breath, there’s the tiniest of clicks and the knob turns easily under his hand when he tests it. Success, and it had only taken him three times as long as it would have Virgil. Surely stealing a bit of medicine will be child’s play in comparison.

He eases the door open, wary of any squealing hinges and ready to flee at the first sign of movement, but everything is silent and still as he slips inside. There’s enough moonlight filtering in through the windows to illuminate the space in a silvery glow, and he pauses for a moment, taking stock. Off to his right, in the back of a shop, stands a tall cabinet with a multitude of small drawers, doubtless housing fresh and dried ingredients of all sorts, but although Janus is tempted, he edges past it. He knows enough basic first aid to be able to make common ointments for minor injuries and ailments, but the drawers look like they’re liable to squeak if he so much as looks at them wrong, and he doesn’t want to risk mixing up ingredients in the dark and killing Virgil with some kind of poison on accident. The other man might be just a tad upset with him if he did that.

What he’s really after are the medicines that have already been prepared, which he assumes are significantly less likely to make him an accidental murderer, and as he creeps further into the shop on silent feet he discovers there’s a whole display of them near the front windows, colorful glass jars a washed-out rainbow in the moonbeams.

Perfect. One little snatch and he’ll be gone before anyone even knew he was here, in and out in less time than it takes to brew a proper cup of tea, his extraordinary talents once again having saved the day, except—

Except the jars are labeled with small slips of paper adorned with writing instead of pictures like the cheap medicines he’s used to, and Janus—

Janus can’t read.

Shit. Of all the times for his lack of a formal education to come back and bite him, of course it would be when Virgil’s life hung in the balance. What a lovely sense of humor the universe had.

He resists the urge to swear aloud and glares at the jars instead on the off chance doing so will magically solve his problem. The jars themselves should offer some clues, but he’s not familiar with this particular apothecary, doesn’t know how their medicines are color-coded. Is the little crimson container for burns, since red was associated with fire? Or is it to stop bleeding? Or is it neither of those, representing something else entirely? Janus doesn’t know.

Time to improvise, then. He hasn’t gotten this far only to be foiled by some inky squiggles.

Casting another wary glance around the quiet shop, he shifts closer to the display and the row of jars lined up neatly atop the shelves. Samples of some kind, perhaps, but their purpose is less important than the fact that they look infinitely easier to handle without clinking together than the jars clustered together on the shelves. He goes down the line one by one, carefully unscrewing each little container’s lid and sniffing the contents, trying to recognize the scent of any ingredients that might treat infected wounds.

Not the red, definitely not the orange, maybe the yellow?

He’s getting antsy, nerves crawling along his skin and skittering down his spine, his instincts screaming at him that he needs to get out, this is taking too long, he’s already been here for more time than he’d planned. But unless he’s suddenly been granted the ability to produce medicine out of thin air, he doesn’t have any other option than to go through the jars as quickly as possible. Taking a pot of each color and figuring out their uses later is a last resort, not only because he doesn’t have anything to wrap them in so they don’t clink together in his bag but also because he doesn’t want this to be a high-profile theft. Taking copious amounts of medicine is bound to put the guards on high alert, which is the last thing he needs when their trio is already running perilously low on food and supplies and will need to be out and about stealing to replenish them.

No, if he can only find the damn jar he wants, he’ll just take that and be gone and with any luck the apothecary owner will think they’ve simply misplaced it somewhere and not even realize they’ve been robbed.

Not the light or dark green jars, but the blue smells familiar—

A shriek splits the air, so shrill and unexpected that Janus’ whole body goes white with razor-sharp panic in an instant, his knife in his grip before he can even parse where the sound has come from or what’s happening, the purple jar he’d been holding slipping out of his hand and shattering into an incriminating pile of shards at his feet, the heady scent of lavender filling the air. No. No no no, there hadn’t been anyone else here, he was sure of it, how—who—

There’s a figure on the other side of the shop, standing in the doorway of what Janus had assumed to be nothing more than a storage closet and which he now realizes, entirely too late, is in fact a stairway to the second floor, which must serve as the healer’s residence and not an extension of the shop as he’d thought.

Apparently he needed to add ‘making correct assumptions’ to his list of innumerable talents.

He’s moving on instinct before he can even take a breath, lunging to grab the little blue jar—stars, he doesn’t even know for sure if it’s the right medicine—before he’s bolting for the exit, fear snapping in his veins, the only thought in his head run run RUN.

“No, wait! Stop!”

Right, of course he’s going to pause for the person who has just caught him stealing red-handed, just wait around to be hauled off to jail for his crimes. Why doesn’t he strike up some small talk while he’s at it?

He’s across the shop and out the back door in a heartbeat, pure adrenaline propelling him forwards as he tucks the precious jar into the safety of his bag, his footsteps echoing dully against the hard-packed dirt in the still night air as he attempts to wrangle rational thought back into his head. Getting caught by the shopkeeper was hardly ideal, but a glance over his shoulder proves they’re not coming after him, and as long as no one else has heard their shriek he should be able to make a clean getaway—

“Hey!”

His heart is pounding so hard in his own ears that he hardly hears the gruff shout, barely sees a form suddenly loom in his peripheral vision, but he certainly feels the hand that snags his cloak for a moment before he manages to wrench free. The healer, trying to cut him off? How the fuck had he managed to outpace Janus?

But when he glances backward he’s met not with the sight of pastel pajamas and blonde curls but of a dark uniform and a sword flashing as it’s drawn from its sheath.

One of the Guard. Stars, couldn’t a man just steal some medicine in peace anymore?

He forces himself to go faster, hurtling headlong down the empty street as he tries to think. He isn’t familiar with this area, doesn’t know its ins and outs like he does his own neighborhood, but if he can just find a side street he should be able to lose the guard in the labyrinth of alleys lacing the city. He veers down the first promising opening he sees, the deeper shadows welcoming him in—

—and promptly finds himself met with a dead end.

Fuck.

He whirls, his only option to backtrack to the main road before he’s cornered, only to find a broad figure already blocking his only way out, sword in hand. Janus is trapped.

Fuck.

“Come on, don’t make this hard on yourself, boy,” the guard growls, advancing forward a step, and Janus can’t help but skitter back in turn, eyes fixed on the glinting blade in the other man’s hand. He can’t get caught now, not when he still has the medicine in his bag, not when Virgil is doubtless still caught in the deadly grip of fever and infection. Janus getting thrown in jail would be nothing less than a death sentence for both of them.

And yet here he finds himself, nothing but high stone walls around him and a larger, stronger opponent he surely can’t best in a fight in front of him.

Not a physical fight, at least, but a mind game or two, a few dirty tricks thrown in to round things off? That Janus is willing to gamble on.

“Okay,” he concedes, letting his voice tremble slightly as the guard takes another stride into the alley. “Okay, just please don’t hurt me, sir.”

The man visibly preens at the honorific, sword tip lowering slightly, and Janus resists the urge to roll his eyes even as his pulse still hammers entirely too quickly in his ears. Honestly. These brutes made playing their ego entirely too easy.

“Put the knife down,” the man orders, and Janus obligingly crouches, the ground freezing even on his half-numb hands as he lays his palms flat on the dirt.

“I’m sorry, sir, please don’t hurt me,” he whimpers as he curls in on himself, the very picture of contrition.

“That’s right, you just cooperate and no one’s going to get hurt here.”

“Of course, sir,” Janus snivels as a pair of black boots come into view of his downcast gaze, followed a moment later by a sword tip. “Anything you say—”

He surges upwards, knife sweeping in front of him as he lunges past the guard, and for the barest fraction of a moment he thinks he’s made it, that his plan has actually worked, that brains have triumphed over brawn—

Pain explodes in his side, a white-hot line of fire that makes black stars burst across his vision and wrenches a strangled cry from his lips, but he has to keep moving, has to go, has to get away while he still has even a sliver of a chance, and he can’t stop, he can’t stop, he can’t stop even if it feels like he’s just been torn right in half.

He doesn’t even know how he manages to make it to the end of the alley and back onto the main road, given how blank his mind has gone with panic and adrenaline; he’s just there, in between one wave of black stars and the next, lurching for the first side street he sees and praying to all the gods he doesn’t even believe in that it’s not another dead end. If he can just make it into the twisting maze of alleyways, he should be able to lose the guard, provided he doesn’t bleed out in the process.

“Get back here, you little shit!”

The furious voice and its accompanying footfalls are far closer than Janus would like, but he doesn’t dare look behind him. If he’s going to get a sword through the spine, the last thing he wants is to see it coming.

“Guard!” Another voice splitting the air behind him. The healer? “Hey, guard!”

The guard’s steps falter, the other man clearly debating whether it’s worth it to continue pursuing a petty thief at the risk of failing to help a wealthy noble in need, and his hesitation is all the opportunity Janus needs to fling himself around a corner into another alley.

Stars above, please don’t be another dead end, please please please—

There must be some higher power after all, some deity who finally takes pity on him, or perhaps fate has simply decided to give him a fighting chance, because the narrow street tees into two at the end. He picks a direction at random, hope leaping treacherously in his chest that he’s at last found a way out of this mess, only to be dashed at the sound of footfalls picking up again behind him, the guard apparently having decided Janus is somehow more important than the healer.

Janus would be flattered if it didn’t mean he was about to either be sliced into ribbons or thrown into jail and sentenced to hang. As it is, he’s less than enthused.

Fear is biting at his heels, urging him faster, but he’s already lagging, lungs burning as he gasps for air, black and red spots encroaching on any spare sliver of vision, searing pain ripping through his body with every step as he jostles his new injury. He can’t keep going like this, not without collapsing within the next minute, and even though the guard behind him may be all brute force and no brain, Janus is pretty sure even he would notice Janus’ body sprawled in the middle of the street.

He scans around him as he flees further up the alley, searching for any place to take cover, but there’s nothing but unscalable walls around him. Nothing, nothing, nothing, until suddenly—there. A tiny gap between two buildings, cloaked in impenetrable shadows. He stumbles to a halt, blowing out whatever tiny bit of air he has left in his lungs in order to make himself as small as possible as he desperately wedges himself into the space. Even then, and despite Janus’ slim stature from years of malnutrition, it’s a tight fit, and he’s barely managed to squeeze himself all the way in before there’s heavy footsteps drawing closer, slowing to a jog and then a walk as the guard clearly tries to deduce where his victim has disappeared to.

Too late does Janus realize that if the other man had any intelligence at all, he would just go find a torch or lantern and track Janus using the bloodtrail he’s undoubtedly left in his wake, but there’s precisely nothing he can do about that now. He crams a handful of cloak into his mouth, both to muffle his pants of pain and to hide the cloud of his breath in the frigid air, turning his head away from the alleyway lest the glint of light off of his eyes give him away.

Given how his wonderful luck is going, he can only brace himself for a blade to come spearing into his ribs, easy as stabbing fish in a barrel, but the footsteps move right past him without a hitch, continuing down the street until they escape Janus’ earshot altogether. But Janus doesn’t move a muscle, despite the fact that his right foot is sinking into something squishy he does not ever want to identify and the smell of rotting food and dead animal is so heavy and cloying in his nose that he has to fight down bile.

Patience. If he can survive a sword almost making his insides be on the outside, he can survive sharing a claustrophobically small space with a few dead rats.

Sure enough, the footfalls return a few minutes later, slower this time as the guard backtracks his steps. Janus hardly dares breathe, sure his luck won’t hold a second time, but once again the other man continues past his hiding place without pause, apparently none the wiser to his quarry literally being within arm’s reach.

A flawless escape if Janus does say so himself, nevermind the fact that he’s taken a sword blade to the ribs in the process. That little detail was wholly inconsequential.

Still, it’s a long while that he bides his time, waiting until he’s satisfied the guard isn’t going to come back a third time, and even then he forces himself to wait some more, just in case. By the time he finally edges out of his little nook and back into the alley proper, his feet and hands have long since gone numb and the black spots in his vision have returned in full force, any movement that pulls at his side even the slightest bit sending ripples of agony through his ribs now that the numbing effects of his adrenaline rush have worn off.

A shame he’s neither brave enough nor stupid enough to try retuning to the apothecary, considering he could really use some painkillers right now.

He keeps his arm firmly pressed against the wound, desperate to keep as much pressure as he can stand on the injury even as a fresh line of warmth trickling down his waist informs him he hasn’t managed to stop the bleeding. He should probably check on it, he knows, try to fashion some kind of bandage from his shirt, but his stomach is already queasy enough that he doesn’t trust he’d be able to witness whatever damage has been wrought upon him without passing out, so his arm will have to suffice.

Out of sight, out of mind, he tells himself. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. If he just repeats it enough times, maybe he’ll begin to believe it, despite the fact that the world tilts alarmingly when he dares a tiny step forward. He hasn’t keeled over and died yet, so the injury can’t be that bad, can it?

It doesn’t matter. Janus just needs to suck it up and get home to deliver the medicine to Virgil before the other man kicks the bucket and all of this has been in vain.

It’s a risk to return to their hideout when there’s a chance the guard chasing him might lie in wait for him to reappear and follow him back home, but it seems an equal risk to spend too much time on the streets when the other man, if not the whole of the night guard by now, is looking for him. He compromises by opting to take the long way back to the impoverished underbelly of the city, secreting himself away in the shadows of back alleys as he muffles his pants of pain into his cloak, biting down so hard on the fabric shoved into his mouth that he’s surprised he doesn’t put holes in it.

It takes him several times longer than it should to return to familiar surroundings, given that he has to pause every few steps either to listen for any guards or to wait for the world to stop spinning around him, but he never dares stop for too long, not as it grows increasingly unlikely that he’ll be able to haul himself back up if he collapses on the ground like his body is begging him to.

It’s nearly dawn by the time he finally deems he isn’t being followed and crosses the final few streets to their little hovel, and he allows himself a single moment to grimace against the pain biting into every single inch of his body, gritting his teeth against the overwhelming sensation. And then he’s pulling himself upright, schooling his features into an expressionless mask as he raps their familiar passcode rhythm on the door and pushes inside.

Virgil is just where he’d left him, still unconscious on the mattress pulled up close to the fireplace, shifting restlessly in his sleep and babbling something nonsensical under his breath, and Janus can’t help a silent sigh of relief that the other man hasn’t expired in his absence.

“Did you get it?” Remus asks immediately from where he’s trying to coax some water down Virgil’s throat, and Janus digs in his bag to hold up the little jar of medicine, careful to keep his other arm pressed securely to his side to hide his injury. He knew having a cloak dark enough to hide bloodstains would come in handy one day. “Good, cause this wound is getting nastier by the second and as fun as it would be to try out a bone saw, I don’t think little Virgie would appreciate only having one leg.”

Janus wrinkles his nose at the mental image of Remus and the havoc he could wreak with such an instrument, just the thought of such carnage turning his stomach. He’s already lost enough blood tonight for the three of them. He doesn’t even want to contemplate one of them losing any more via amputation.

“Good thing he’s unconscious; he would tear you to pieces for calling him Virgie.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Remus retorts, but his face is lined with worry as he brushes a stray lock of hair off Virgil’s forehead. Shit. Things must be going from bad to worse if even Remus is this concerned.

Janus hurries to rinse his hands off in the bowl of water on the table, making a mental note to discard the now crimson liquid before Remus can see it, unceremoniously drying his hands on his pants as he crouches next to the other man. The movement pulls sharply at his wound, sending yet another wave of black spots dancing across his vision, and he has to bite back a hiss of pain as he wavers slightly. Don’t pass out now, not now, not before helping Virgil—

Remus casts him a sidelong glance, seeming to notice something is wrong.

“You okay, Janny?”

No, Janus is about to say, not unless you want to go find a guard with a sword so we can all have matching wounds.

But then he unscrews the lid off the little jar of salve and dips a finger in to find—

Nothing.

Cold panic snaps up his spine, shot nerves surging protestingly back to life. No, there’s no way he could have stolen an empty jar. He was a thoroughly accomplished thief, and thoroughly accomplished thieves simply did not make mistakes like accidentally grabbing the wrong pot of medicine.

Unless, perhaps, they were the tiniest bit distracted by the dark and the healer screaming at the sight of them and the fear turning their mind blank.

He braces himself for the worst, to have to return to the apothecary and try to steal something else, but when he tilts the jar to peer in he’s met with the sight of a cream ointment, albeit barely enough to coat the bottom of the glass. He swears viciously as he tips the container towards Remus for him to see, and the other man wrinkles his face up in annoyance at the lack of medicine.

“That sucks,” he pronounces. “Would have been nice to have had some extra in case someone gets a hand bitten off by a pack of stray dogs or something.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Tears of frustration are suddenly pricking at the back of Janus’ eyes and he forces them back through sheer willpower, absolutely refusing to cry in front of Remus. Just because he’s exhausted and injured and absolutely nothing has gone right tonight doesn’t mean he’s going to make it anyone else’s problem. Virgil is the one who needs attention. Janus needs to pull himself together and start being useful.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Remus says, peering into the jar again. “There’s enough here for Virgil.”

But not for me, Janus thinks, but he can’t say it, can’t reveal his own injury, not when the jar is so tiny and there’s so little ointment left and all he can remember is Virgil looking up at him that morning, dark gaze so pained and vulnerable even as he’d tried to hide it as Janus had promised that he’d find him some medicine.

No. Janus is selfish about many things, has had to be just in order to survive, but he’s never been able to be selfish when it comes to Virgil and Remus. He can’t be selfish about this.

Besides, there’s a chance he won’t even need the medicine; he’s suffered plenty of injuries before that have healed on their own, nevermind that little voice in the back of his head whispering that none of those wounds had been nearly as bad as this one.

So he dips his fingers back into the jar and carefully spreads the salve on Virgil’s wound, not stopping until the container is empty of even a speck of ointment and the medicine has been rubbed gently into every inch of angry red skin. Remus fusses over rebandaging the injury and tucking Virgil back in while Janus slips the empty jar into a basket of various other small, stolen items. They won’t be able to sell it, not right away, not with the Guard looking for anything connected to the apothecary break-in, but they might be able to trade it for something down the line.

“Did you run into any trouble while you were out?” Remus asks as he slumps back onto the floor by the fireplace, fiddling with the edge of the blankets.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Janus replies smoothly, and it’s not even a lie—he had handled it, had managed to evade being caught and had made it home all (or mostly, he supposes) in one piece. What did it matter that he’d met with the business end of a sword while he was out? Give it a few months and the injury would be just another scar on Janus’ skin, one more unspoken story of a bind he’d gotten himself out of with his superior wit and talent.

Either that or he would be dead of blood loss or infection and it wouldn’t be his problem anymore. One or the other.

Remus gives him a sidelong look like he doesn’t quite believe Janus’ lie, eyes narrowing and mouth opening to no doubt ask more prying questions, and Janus hurriedly cuts in before he can get the chance.

“Will you go see what you can find for breakfast? I know Ms. Fordham at the bakery has a soft spot for Virgil, but she might give you some day-old bread for a good price if you’re there early and offer to haul in the flour deliveries.”

Remus still has that look in his eye like he’s going to push the issue, a heavy silence falling between the two of them as he locks Janus into a staring contest, an unspoken battle of wills that Janus doubts he’s going to win in his current state. The only people more stubborn than him were his own gods-damned family.

Time to play dirty, then.

“I wouldn’t want Virgil to wake up hungry with nothing to eat,” he presses.

Remus stares at him for another long moment, those clever eyes searching Janus’ for any hint of something amiss, and Janus forces himself to hold his gaze with an impassive expression. Nothing’s wrong, he tries to communicate telepathically. Nothing’s wrong, just go get breakfast and everything will be okay. I absolutely am not about to pass out from blood loss and join Virgil on the floor.

He doubts he’s giving a convincing performance of being fine, but it must be just enough, because Remus finally huffs and gives in, heaving himself up off the ground and muttering something Janus sincerely doubts is flattering as he swipes his cloak off the hook by the door.

“Don’t use the bone saw without me,” he orders, which Janus interprets as make sure Virgil doesn’t take a turn for the worse.

“Pinky promise,” Janus swears, holding out his hand, and Remus takes a moment to latch his finger around Janus’ before disappearing out the door into the dull, pre-dawn light.

Janus counts to ten, then fifty, a hundred, making sure Remus is well and truly gone, before he allows himself to double over with a strangled groan, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his nails into his thigh as the full extent of his injury finally hits him.

Fuck, this hurt. If he wanted to know what it felt like to have tongues of fire licking at his ribs, he would have just asked Remus if he wanted to practice his arson skills.

He draws in a deep breath on instinct, trying to breathe through the pain if nothing else, and the agony surges, spearing through his chest into his muscles and tendons and veins and coiling around his heart until he can barely breathe, wrenching a sound suspiciously close to a whimper from his throat, and it’s all he can do to just exist in the pain for a moment.

Okay. No deep breaths, then.

Exhaustion is dragging at him even through the pain, weighing down his eyelids and leadening his bones now that the adrenaline of being chased and tending to Virgil is wearing off, and he wants nothing more than to collapse right here on the ground next to Virgil and just sleep, slipping into sweet unconsciousness where he doesn’t have to worry about whether Virgil will get better or whether his own injury will become infected or whether the Guard will come crashing through the door at any moment to arrest all three of them.

But if he doesn’t tend to his wound before he falls into bed, he’s just going to end up in Virgil’s position in a few days when it gets infected, not to mention he’ll have to explain the bloodstains he’s leaving on the floor to Remus.

Actually, knowing Remus, he would be beyond delighted at the latter and eagerly demand to know where the blood was from, but Janus doesn’t trust his mental capacities at the moment to come up with any halfway believable lie.

“Lucky bastard,” he hisses at Virgil, who is still slumbering away pain-free and blissfully unaware of Janus’ predicament. He begins to inch himself across the floor to the table, taking tiny sips of air to try to calm the fire still battering his ribs. The world spins alarmingly around him as he uses the piece of furniture to claw himself upright, and he sways unsteadily on his feet once he gets there.

“Come on,” he mutters, some distant part of his mind whispering that he should really be alarmed that he’s devolved into talking to himself. “It’s just a little blood loss. How bad can it be?”

He keeps one hand on the wall for support as he makes his way past the curtain dividing the main living space from what serves as their bedroom. The main mattress has been moved into the other room next to the fireplace so they don’t freeze in their sleep in the colder months, but there’s a smaller bed here, salvaged off the street and put back together by Remus, and Janus eases himself onto it.

It’s a slow, agonizing process to get his shirt off, any movement or stretch pulling at his injury, and he has to stop more than once for the stars that dance in his vision, but he finally works his way free of the garment. A sharp breath hisses between his teeth as he cranes his neck down to examine the injury, nausea turning his stomach. It’s not a pretty sight, the dried blood flaking down his side disturbed by trails of fresh crimson still leaking from the wound, and Janus spits out a swear, then another, and another. If he’d known this was how things were going to go, he would have stolen everything he could carry from the apothecary instead of trying to keep a low profile by only taking one paltry jar of salve.

Next time—if he lives to see a next time—he’s taking the whole damn shelf of medicine, clinking jars be damned.

There’s a pitcher of water on the nightstand and he uses it and a rag to clean the injury as best he can, agony sparking up his spine whenever a drop of freezing water or the edge of the fabric gets too close to the jagged gash, but he forces himself to hurry, knowing Remus won’t be gone long. The bed is an absolute mess by the time he’s done, scarlet water settling into stains on the sheets, but that’s a problem for future Janus. He has bigger worries at the moment than laundry.

Between the ice-cold water and the chill in the air he’s shivering now, and he’s quick to dry off as best he can before moving on to bandaging. Their stockpile of nice bandages is almost depleted and Janus isn’t willing to take the few remaining in case Virgil needs them, so he opts for their homemade bandages instead, which is a generous term for it, considering that they’re fashioned from scraps of fabric too worn out to function as clothes anymore, but Janus isn’t in any position to be picky. As long as it stops the bleeding, it’ll do.

The pain is at least becoming familiar, if not exactly pleasant, as he winds the long, spiraling strips tightly around his ribs, even as his stomach churns at the thought that so much blood that is supposed to be inside his body is very much not. Just beet juice, he tells himself, not above lying to himself if it means not passing out on the bedroom floor. Just beet juice on your hands and the bandages and the bed, nothing more.

Almost done. He shoves his torn and bloodstained shirt under the mattress out of sight of curious eyes and forces himself up to grab another one from the pile in the corner, very nearly finding himself on the ground from the way the world tilts violently around him as he staggers upright. He’s panting with pain and exertion by the time he finally manages to get the blasted thing on, but the sense of relief that washes over him once he does is immediate. His secret is safe for now, at least. No one else needed to worry about him.

The bed is almost irresistibly tempting, but he stumbles his way back into the main room, collapsing heavily on the floor next to Virgil to sit as a guard until Remus gets back.

“You heard nothing,” he tells the other man as he scuffs at the half-dried bloodstains on the floorboards with his boot, smearing them into less incriminating streaks. “Everything is fine.”

Virgil doesn’t deign to respond beyond drooling onto his own arm, and Janus groans, tipping his head back against the wall as his eyelids drag closed of their own volition. He can’t sleep, not yet, not until Remus returns, but maybe he’ll just rest his eyes for a moment, just a few seconds…

He wakes with a heavy groan in his chest, the pain in his ribs fiercely unrelenting, and he curls in on himself instinctively, the phantom feel of a sword biting into his ribs entirely too real. Fuck, he’d really been hoping that whole apothecary debacle had been nothing more than a strikingly vivid nightmare. Apparently not.

“Nice guard job you’re doing there, Jan.”

He squints one eye open, glaring at Remus where he’s sprawled on the floor on the other side of Virgil.

“Good thing I wasn’t planning on doing anything nefarious. I could have killed both of you and you were so out of it you would’ve just floated right into the light.”

Janus scowls at him, nowhere near the mood to joke about anyone dying. The possibility hit just a little too close to home for comfort at the moment.

“Here,” Remus says, entirely unaffected by Janus’ look, offering him a slice of bread. “You were right about Ms. Fordham.”

Of course he was. Janus is always right.

He nibbles through the bread while Remus rambles on about a mishap with one of the flour bags, his stomach still roiling even though he’s ravenous. He realizes halfway through that Virgil is frighteningly still, but when he scrambles to check he realizes it’s because the other man is sleeping peacefully for the first time in days.

Last night had been worth it, then, no matter that Janus can’t breathe too deeply or move too suddenly without feeling like a knife is being twisted into his side. Janus was more than willing to be collateral damage if it meant Virgil healing.

Remus leaves before long, off in search of any other odd jobs he can do for a few coins to keep them fed, and Janus spends the afternoon on the floor, dozing on and off and trying to coax some broth down Virgil’s throat. The other wakes that evening, in pain but coherent, and Janus helps him slowly eat a real meal while Remus carefully washes and rebandages his leg.

“How kind of you to finally rejoin the waking world,” Janus tells the younger man as he checks Remus’ progress for the third time in as many minutes, making sure he’s not winding the bandages too tightly. “I’ve so enjoyed pulling your weight around here while you indulged in a little nap, you know.”

“You could use a nap,” Virgil mutters snippily. “Although I doubt any amount of beauty sleep could fix your face.”

It’s hardly a devastating response, especially given that Janus’ face is undeniably flawless if he does say so himself, but a coil of tension unwinds in his gut at the retort. If Virgil can roll his eyes and keep up a bit of banter, he must be on the mend.

That’s the important thing, nevermind that Janus’ own injury is only getting more painful, the untreated wound a recipe for disaster. Virgil is okay, and that’s all that matters. As for himself, all he can do is wait and hope things get better.

---

Fancy starting the taglist for this fic? Let me know!

#thomas sanders sides big bang 2022 #tssbb 2022 #sanders sides #ts janus #janus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #loceit #ts fanfic #all the silver stolen (will one day turn to gold)#my fic #rosepetal writes

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apocalypseornaw · 4 years ago

Text

One Condition

For the square "Friends to lovers" on @girl-next-door-writes make me feel bingo

Side note Bobby is alive in this cause screw canon

No real warnings besides cursing and lots of fluff

First meeting

You had just thrown your bags into the trunk of your nova when your cell phone started ringing. You cursed under your breath and ran to the front seat to grab it. You barely glanced at the screen but recognized the number instantly.

You answered with a smile on your face “Bobby! How are you doing?” You could hear other voices in the background but that wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence.

Bobby was pretty much one of the few people that tried to coordinate the efforts of hunters and offered a place to crash and or get patched up to those he was close with. “As good as I ever am sweetheart. Look I got some boys here that are hunting a witch and since you’re a bit more attuned with that type of thing from everything your uncle taught you I was wondering if you could lend them a hand” You didn’t even think about it before you said “Of course. I’m about three hours from you but I’ll head that way” if Bobby was asking you to work with them they could be trusted. You heard him call someone in the background an idjit before he told you to drive safe and hung up.

------

“You think this chick can handle a witch better than me and Sam Bobby?” Dean was a bit skeptical about Bobby calling in another hunter to back them up. “Son, her uncle raised her and he was a witch. She didn’t pick up a lot from him but she knows enough to spot the signs and had a few defensive maneuvers up her sleeve. Give her a chance, I’ve known her for years and she’s just as good a hunter as either of you”

The sound of an engine pulling up drew their attention. Sam stepped around the corner from the kitchen with a bottle of water in his hand and motioned to the door “That her?” Bobby tilted his head slightly and listened for a moment before nodding “Yeah that’s her nova”

Dean and Sam both followed Bobby out to the porch. You parked just behind the impala and killed your engine before climbing out your car. Bobby walked down the steps to greet you and a smile slipped onto your face the moment you saw him “Bobby!” you hugged him and he did his usual checklist to ensure your last hunt was successful and you hadn’t had no recent injuries before finally turning his attention back to the two standing on the porch watching the two of you greet each other “These the boys I told you about” he started so Sam of course stepped up first and extended his hand “I’m Sam. That’s my older brother Dean” you shook Sam’s hand with a smile “Name’s Y/N”

Dean nodded at you but you could see how skeptic he was about working with you. “Hold on..Sam and Dean? John’s sons” Dean nodded again so you turned back to Bobby not meaning to talk about the Winchesters in front of them but needing to ask “I thought they didn’t really work with other hunters? Did they change their policy since their dad died?”

Dean cleared his throat so you looked back at him. He gave you a smile that was much more sarcasm than friendly “Sweetheart we can answer questions for ourselves.” You laughed sharply before replying “My name isn’t sweetheart darling and I was just making sure the two of you had worked up to the point of playing well with others. I see your brother has manners but from where I’m standing I ain’t too impressed with yours”

You brushed past Dean into the house so he begrudgingly followed you. Bobby whispered to Sam “Either they’ll work well together or the witch will be distracted enough by their fighting you should be able to kill her easy enough”

Friends?

“Can I ask you one thing sweetheart” Dean spoke from the other side of the motel room and you cut your eyes up with a raised eyebrow “What?” He motioned to where you were currently painting your nails “I mean what I’m about to say in the least offensive way possible”

“Not a good way to start a conversation with a woman who is armed and can kick your ass but do please continue” you replied and he laughed before holding his hands up defensively “It’s just..you’re a hunter and one of the best I know. You’re pretty badass in my opinion but you always have your nails painted and yeah it’s normally a dark color but I was just curious as to why”

You let a sly grin slip onto your face as you closed the nail polish and placed it back into your bag “It comes in handy” “How so?” he asked so you shot him a wink “You’ll see”

------

Later that night you and the boys headed back to the motel to catch a little sleep before parting ways the next morning. Dean stopped you just outside your room door “C’mon Y/N tell me how you knew who the shifter was” you stopped and leaned back against the doorframe glancing over where Sam was watching you and his older brother with an amused smile.

You held up one hand and wiggled your fingers. Dean looked confused for a moment then realization flashed across his face “Does your nail polish have silver in it?” You grinned “Silver infused basecoat and that my dear is why my nails are always painted”

He nodded approvingly “Smart and yet again proves my point of why you’re one of the best hunters I know” you touched the tender spot on your side when the shifter had thrown you into a wall and probably would’ve went for a killing blow had Dean not been there “You’re not so bad yourself Dean, in fact I would say you’ve finally learned how to play well with others” Sam laughed but Dean simply grinned “Only took a few years of knowing you huh?”

“What can I say? I’m a miracle worker even with seemingly lost causes” he shook his head with a light laugh “Goodnight Y/N” “Night Dean,Night Sam” after Sam wished you a goodnight you walked into your room and shut the door behind yourself. Who would’ve thought all those years before when you first met the brothers that they’d end up being your two closest friends?

Maybe more?

Dean stopped in his tracks when he walked into Bobby’s living room and saw you curled up on the couch fast asleep. You had grabbed his discarded jacket from the arm of the couch and was using it as a pillow. A small smile slipped onto his face at seeing you were finally resting so he grabbed one of the blankets Bobby kept in the hall closet to spread across your legs. You moved slightly in your sleep and for just a moment he worried he may have woken you up but you were simply burrowing further into his jacket and the blanket.

He walked quietly back into the kitchen and sat down at the table across from Bobby “She doing ok?” Bobby asked, nodding back towards you. “Yeah she’s finally asleep. I’ve been worried about her these last few days” in truth you had done something incredibly stupid while also simultaneously brave.

You, him and Sam had gone up against a coven and you’d taken the brunt of a spell protecting him without even knowing what the spell could do. He had felt an ice cold jolt of fear when you’d gone down. He was afraid when he made it to your side that you’d be gone. Thankfully you were stronger than given credit by the witches. They’d gotten you into the impala and Dean hadn’t come under ninety getting you to Bobby’s.

Bobby being well Bobby had an antidote waiting but apparently it’d take a few days to get your system back right after the shock of the spell. The last week and a half you’d gone through shivering spells hard enough you’d cracked a tooth only to spike a fever the next moment.

You hadn’t kept much to eat down and sleep had been out of the question completely. You’d been in and out of it and Dean hadn’t left your side for a second even refusing to go into town if anything was needed. That’s where Sam currently was.

“You care about her don’t you?” Bobby asked, forcing Dean out of his thoughts about you. “What? Of course I do, she’s my friend” Bobby sighed in frustration with the younger man who was like a son to him and just as stubborn “Dean that’s not what I meant” that made Dean really stop to consider what Bobby was saying. Did he have romantic feelings for you?

When was the last time he’d sought another woman? It just seemed natural to spend time with you after a hunt or just crash. When he needed to talk to someone he’d call you if the two of you weren’t around each other. He always looked forward to seeing a smile on your face and when it was because of him? There wasn’t a better feeling. You’d become such an important part of his life over the years he hadn’t even realized it.

When you’d gotten hurt this time and he faced the very real possibility of losing you it had just confirmed what he’d already known deep down. You were who he wanted in his life. You were the most amazing woman he’d ever met, you kept him on his toes and made him strive to be a better man every day although you never missed an opportunity to tell him just how good of a man he already was. “Bobby..” he started but was silenced with a look “Don’t tell me son. Save it for when Y/N wakes up then you two need to have a talk”

------

When you slowly started to wake up you felt like you’d been hit by a bus. Christ what had happened? Everything was a little foggy. You caught a whiff of gunpowder,leather and cinnamon and memories started flooding back. Dean. That damn witch had thrown a spell at him!

You sat up quickly only for a wave of dizziness to push you back down. You then realized your pillow had in fact been Dean’s jacket. Where was he? Was he ok? “Dean?” you called weakly calming slighty when you recognized your surroundings as Bobby’s living room.

You heard footsteps and looked up to see him walking into the room with a worried smile “You’re awake” you nodded slowly being careful to not cause another wave to push you back under and started to sit up much more carefully this time. He stepped forward to help you then sat down next to you so you leaned your head over on his shoulder with your legs curled up under you while you turned to face him on the couch.

“Are you ok?” you asked, voice slightly muffled due to the fact that your face was buried in his shirt. He laughed slightly which caused you to pull back enough to look at him “Why are you laughing at me?” he raised one hand to gently cup the side of your face “You’re asking if I’m ok while you’ve spent the last week and a half going through everything this side of torture because you decided it was best to shove me out the way and take that blast for yourself” you grimaced slightly “Well at least we’re both alive”

You realized he was still holding your face and probably would’ve been embarrassed had you not been fighting the urge to curl up against his chest and go back to sleep. “Why?” he asked and you were confused for a moment before you realized he was asking why you’d saved him. “Because whether you believe it or not Dean you’re worth saving time and again” he smiled slightly and opened his mouth to talk but you raised a hand before he could “Wait let me get this out while you feel bad and may not make fun of me later if it backfires I can blame it on the after effects”

You might as well confess your feelings now considering you’d nearly died for him. When he nodded you took a deep breath then said “Dean I’ve had feelings for you for a while. I couldn’t very well just let you die. It was worth the risk” “Can I speak now?” he asked with a slight smile so you nodded. He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before saying “I feel the same way about you. When you’re better I want to take you on an actual date, ya know actually romance you but for now thank you and please don’t ever scare me like that again”

You smiled slightly then said “On one condition” “Which is?” he asked so you motioned to his chest “Can I go back to sleep on you?” He laughed and pulled you into his lap “For as long as you want”

@girl-next-door-writes

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #girl next doors make me feel bingo

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apparentlyaswarmofbees · 4 years ago

Note

I've been asking around this one question for a few people now, because I like hearing what people have to say about it...

So I wouldn't mind it if you shared a list on who's your favourite (from Most to Least) from the Obey Me! Crew (Brothers & Formally Undatables)...

Also, please feel free to ramble on about why you placed them in each space...

O-oh dear-

First off, you spoil an infodumper like me too much lol (I am happy sfjsjjdjn) and I am going to go overboard (and changing the order of things) for my own pleasure.

And so...

Second off...

Gladly

Here is My List of LEAST to MOST Favorite of The Obey Me Boys ^^

That I just did on spot because I didn't have one ready because it's hard for me to rate the characters as they all have their traits and even their flaws add something good to the character but I'll be dammed if I don't enjoy deep frying my brain for fun.

Please take note I am taking this literally and all characters in here are FAVORITES, just some will be more and some less, which mean I LIKE ALL OF THEM. Yes, I have changed my opinion on a certain two characters I have said to not like, and I am not ashamed to say I was incorrect.

So let's start this off with the right foot shall we?

#12 | Diavolo

He is still infuriating I won't deny that. And I won't pity him though he is a tragic character that is so lonely he overrates any kind of affection, that doesn't know how to interact with others without exagerating, that has no one to give an oposing opinion because of his status and so it's increasingly hard for him to learn to make good decisions, and with his goal to unite the realms I could almost say he is naive. He's a bit of a puppy always wanting some pets, but as a not dog person, I don't have enough in me to be always playing, so to me an overly needy puppy can end up getting annoying, though of course, I can't help it but at least give it a few pets before going my way.

#11 | Simeon

Yes in the end I actually liked him all along but was just in denial after I thought about it. Simeon is a good character, he's a dick even though he's an angel and he doesn't bother to be any different, he definetelly has his own set of rules he follows and I believe he would be a Chaotic Good just like me. He's well made. And as much as he is pretty unlikeable, the mystery, the questions, the fact that he has always been the same we just didn't get to interact with him much to see it, to have a naturally asshole character put down some of his walls to help us even if part out of possible self interest. And of course he's also fun. Simeon is charming, and I have come to appreciate all of him.

#10 | Luke

A kid. A brat and a tsundere. I Absolutely love the character development and it's extremelly adorable. He's now officially our guardian angel and I love that. He was just a prick that I rolled my eyes so hard whenever I encountered him in the game and now he's just a lil' bratty brother that is fun to tease and squish the cheeks off. He's a really nice kid in the end, just previously ignorant, but still nice because he was willing to learn and change despise saying he didn't want to. I personally can understand Luke as I was pretty alike as a kid. Again, he's a nice kid I would gladly buy some balloons and cotton candy for.

#9 | Barbatos

The number 1 buttler, he's just, a good dude l o l. He has his distance from everyone due to his position but that doesn't make him any less interesting. He is mysterious and powerful and yet he feels, so chill. He's also fun and actually has a pretty soft personality in which he knows exactly when to switch off to strict. He's a character I respect and wish existed in real life so I could be friends with (╥﹏╥).

#8 | Solomon

Shady sorcerer is actually a pretty good guy though mildly insane. He is actually responsable (and takes it pretty seriously seeing he's basically the representative of the human realm). He's kind though again, mildly insane, and diligent. He may have terrible food but the fact he does it with good intentions is pretty adorable, he just likes to follow his instincts and be spontaneous because he likes new and exciting things. He probably has quite a bit of angst to him due to his not only immortality in not aging but also by not being able to be killed but even so it feels that, contrary to how many human immortals end, he still hasn't lost the light in his eyes and can still enjoy things and enjoy being alive, and that is most likely thanks to other immortal/long living beings such as demons.

#7 | Lucifer

Yep. Lucifer is actually a really fucking great character, he's fond of his family, hard worker to the point of destroying himself, self punisher, elegant, pretty af, cute at times. But not exactly my most favorable cup of tea. Seeing I can see through his bullshit all his posessiveness, all his pettiness, all his actions just becomes ridiculous and annoying. And theres also a problem with the fact we always end up submiting to him, I don't want that. For every time he disrespects me I want him to kneel and kiss my feet. His pride collides with my own, and his decisions do too. But even so he is very reliable and so he has my respect for that, I do want to hug him and tell him he deserves nice things and that he can rest now this is not the war anymore you don't have to bow down to anyone anymore you didn't doom your brothers but freed them instead, but then again he makes bad decisions because he has zero braincells for emotional intelligence and that pisses me off and makes me just want to yeet him off a cliff. Yeah Lucifer, I would gladly kick you in the balls with ♡°.•love•.°♡.

#6 | Leviathan

Surprising is it not? But it's true, I often focus on Levi due to him not only being pretty alike to me but also because he's related to many things I have been familiar with since I was born: animes and games. His anxiousness is relatable, the outcastness is relatable, the awkwardness is relatable, the obsession is relatable, the references are relatable, the infodumping is relatable. He's very relatable to me, but not my most favorite, and all because of his envy. He's a guilt tripper, and though I am long immune to it in real life due to extreme exposure to it from my family, it still is enough for his rank to go down. I still love him though, but mostly as the character that represents the thing I am most familiar with in life: myself.

#5 | Beelzebub

Big puppy, he's the type of guy who will talk to plants. He has big and strong hands that could crush anything and yet he will do his best to handle some things gently. He's chill and non judgemental, loyal to the core. Once you win him over, you win him over, he would die for you. He is purposely childish at times and it's cute. He is amazing. I wish I could enjoy eating like he does. He's the only character I truly feel hurt for, as he is deeply inflicted by survivor's guilt and it just pains me I can't comfort him because he isn't real ಥ‿ಥ

#4 | Belphegor

Hoh boy. The brat. The fandom itself is pretty divided on their liking of Belphie and it's understandable lol. But I personally understand Belphie. To hide hurt behind anger, hate and spite, to turn to agression to prove a point but you end up just fucking up. But the guilt and wish to fix things can lead one to giving themselves up, and so it becomes a constant battle of getting close but not too close for the sake of both parties involved. I get this boy more than I wish I ever did, and that's why he's high on the ranking. And because he's cute ngl.

#3 | Satan

H o h b o y, another one that reminds me of myself, only it's the aftermath of the above where one bottles up all their negative feelings because being emotional is not being rational and who the fuck even wants to not be rational. Where you have no fucking idea who you are because all you know is to stomp your feet and scream for the sake of making an statement but that just proved all your enemies a point so now you turn to smarts to prove yourself. To make others angry, to make them frustrated and infuriated with your knowledge because you want to prove yourself, be reconized for who you are, to be someone and also, hopefully, change other people's ways, to make them understand they are wrong because you deep down actually want to get along with them. Yeah, Satan is high on the list, and it's also because he likes detectives uwu.

#2 | Asmodeus

What a fucking icon he is I love him okay. It frustrates me when people use cheating as a angst prompt for him as he's obviously someone who just isn't made for monogamy, and he's pretty honest and I feel he would have nothing to hide and would talk it all out with all his partners. He's a sweetheart that works hard on daily basis and hour after hour to mantain an image, he likes the attention, he wants to be loved. If anyone mildly self centered ever told me 'I love you as much as I love myself' I would marry them on spot. Asmo is just incredibly sweet and I love all his affection and respect him for all the work he does to make a good impression and look up to that self confidence even though most of it is actually just him trying to convince himself. Also perfect example off gender is an ilusion lol.

#1 | Mammon

Yep, our number 1, The Great Mammon, the most lovable dumbass that has been by our side from the start though with a bit of whining. This man is perfect. He has incredible self control over his powers, and as someone who used to be an angel to be able to use money all you want bro. I wouldn't feel bad either. He's our protector from start to end to the point he focuses on us instead of the queen in the Dame event. He isn't stupid just has selective focus just like me! And all the people with ADHD and many other neurodivergents. When he wants something he does is perfectly and diligently, he just needs the right push at the right time. He's the most good of all demons and even angels and he loves all his brothers deeply, he is always there to support everyone to the point of even allowing himself to be the punching bag for the sake of them not turning too much on one another. He was literally our first SSR card, our first call, our first pact, our first and the best. He IS great, truly.

#god I need to sleep #any typos are due to sleep deprivedness and I will be fixing later #obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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crunchy-star · 3 years ago

Text

The tags are absolute wack and amazing:

loki may have died years ago but the extent of the Easter eggs he 's left around are still around

as a guardian Thor is going to start finding them

obviously loki got storm breaker commissioned otherwise why would there be a cast waiting conveniently for Thor

If Thor had bothered to check the knife loki was using on Thanos he would have found it to be spray painted plastic

If Thor had bothered to ask around he would have found out loki had been on saakar for twenty minutes not two weeks

Thor probably doesn't even know loki can look into the memories of others but eventually he'll have to find out loki got valkyrie to help

Loki is living in the guardians ship with them and they don't even know it

He's not spying on Thor or anything but every single hint loki has left for Thor screams that loki is living in the room next to him

That bar uses lokis symbol and when I asked they said, he is close enough to sleep by your side,which was kinda creepy but funny

Gamora who say loki getting snacks from the common room at 3 am yesterday: huh that's a wild new clue you've got.. Good luck deciphering that

Rocket who had loki help design a new blaster this morning: I wonder what it means

Peter who hold weekly midgard night with loki where they share earth things : maybe one day you will reach the end and f the breadcrumb trail...?

Mantis who is working with loki to improve her emotion powers: it does sound like a challenging puzzle!

Drax who thinks Thor is behind metaphorical when he says loki is dead and thinks Thor knows he's alive: it doesn't sound encrypted at all

Groot who is still annoyed that loki beat his high score: I am groot

tldr: Thor is still sad avout loki dying and the guardians have to suffer through his childhood stories because he breaks down otherwise

But Thor kind of just laughs and cries and they don't know what to do so they decide to let him figure out loki lives on the ship himself

But Thor is convinced that loki would hide any and every message under 5 levels of encryption and 20 riddles so he misses obvious things

My brother is incredibly smart if this note says he is alive and well and closer than I may think then I must decode the truth from it.

Thor: *starts laughing and sobbing*

Guardians: what's wrong

Thor: loki would wear leather to sneak around because its made of hide, guys, HIDE-

Guardians: *groans*

#as a guardian thor is finally going to start finding them #loki may have died years ago but the extent of the easter eggs he's left around are still around #obviously loki got stormbreaker commissioned otherwise why would there be a cast waiting conveniently for thor #loki wears leather to hide and thor hasn't understood that joke ever no matter how many times loki hinted at it #if thor had bothered to check the knife loki was using on thanos he would've found it to be spray painted plastic #if thor had bothered to ask around he would've found out loki had only been on sakaar for twenty minutes not two weeks #thor probably doesn't even know loki can look into the memories of others but eventually he'll have to find out loki got Valkyrie to help #turns out loki has left easter eggs all over the galaxy #loki is living in the guardians ship with them and they don't even know it #he's not spying on thor or anything but every single hint loki has left for thor screams that loki is living in the room next to him #thor: that bar uses loki's symbol and when i asked they said 'he is close enough to sleep by your side' which was kinda creepy but funny #gamora who saw loki getting snacks from the common room at 3am yesterday: huh that's a wild new clue you've got.. good luck deciphering that #rocket who had loki help design a new blaster this morning: i wonder what it means #peter who holds weekly Midgard night with loki where they share earth things: maybe one day you'll reach the end of the breadcrumb trail...?#mantis who is working with loki to improve her emotion powers: it does sound like a challenging puzzle!#drax who thinks thor is being metaphorical when he says loki is dead and thinks thor knows he's alive: it doesn't sound encrypted at all #groot who is still annoyed that loki beat his high score: i am groot #tldr: thor is still sad about loki dying and the guardians have to suffer through his childhood stories because he breaks down otherwise #but thor kind of just laughs and cries and they don't know what to do so they decide to let him figure out loki lives on the ship himself #but thor is convinced that loki would hide any and every message under 5 levels of encryption and 20 riddles so he misses obvious things #'my brother is incredibly smart if this note says he is alive and well and closer than i may think then i must decode the truth from it'

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madamebaggio · 4 years ago

Text

Notes: As promised, here is the Margaery ship chosen by you!

This is a direct continuation of this.

I hope you enjoy it ;)

***

Thranduil was incredibly old. He remembered things that history itself had forgotten, and some that he himself wished he could.

He’d seen countries rise and fall, kings and lords losing everything, humans learning and destroying. He loved dearly, he lost things…

Thranduil could go on for days about things he knew -when he was feeling particularly bored he’d do exactly that, just to make his guards sweat.

Legolas -still young and impetuous -would roll his eyes and call his father dramatic. And Thranduil imagined he could be considered dramatic by some standards, but he was too old to actually care.

Besides, drama was one of the last things he could actually enjoy.

As he was this old and experienced in life, it was downright insulting that a human would think of lying to him. Most wouldn’t even try, because they could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t take kindly to it.

But this woman…

If Thranduil was in a generous frame of mind -he hardly ever was -he’d concede that she wasn’t exactly lying to him. She was -at most -hiding parts of the truth, and Thranduil normally didn’t care humans all that much to really be bothered by it.

However, this time, there were dragons involved.

“Let us try this again.” He told her slowly. “What does your Queen want?”

At least Lady Tyrell was smart enough to stop flowering her words. He could see she was still smarting from him calling her out a few minutes ago.

“As you probably already know, Your Majesty, my Queen had to fight hard to get what was rightfully hers.” She started again. “This led to a war, and that itself brought many consequences. Most of all, we are short on allies and some goods. I am here as her emissary to question about those things: friendship and trade.”

Thranduil hummed his understanding, now knowing she was speaking the truth. It wasn’t as pretty as she’d made it sound at first, but it did make sense that the Queen would look for new allies.

He hoped Lady Tyrell wasn’t in a hurry.

“We can discuss this later.” He decided. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

***

Margaery had dealt with many people throughout her life. She was raised to be the lady of a big house, groomed to be a Queen if the chance presented itself. Her grandmother had sat her on her knee and taught Margaery a lot.

From a young age she’d learned how to read people, and -consequently -how to get what she wanted from them. She always hoped she’d get to be like her grandmother one day.

She talked to lords and ladies, made them think she was sweet and kind; talked to commoners and made them love her. Margaery knew that alliances were important to get what she wanted and she had wanted a lot.

The war for the Iron Throne curbed her ambitions, to the point she was happy to be alive. Many hadn’t had the same luck; like her grandmother.

Margaery had always wanted to be a Queen, but she’d learned that she’d rather survive this. She wasn’t unhappy serving Queen Daenerys, but she wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.

She enjoyed the respect brought by her position, and even liked the fact that she was actively doing something for Westeros, but…

Some days she felt as if she was doing things just to survive, just to keep going.

Like this, right now.

It had been a week since she’d been ‘welcomed’ into Greenwood, and she hadn’t seen King Thranduil since then.

When Daenerys suggested going to the elves, everyone thought she’d finally lost it. There had been no contact with the elves for centuries at that point, and everything that was known about them came from songs and legends.

Daenerys had pointed out people thought the same about dragons.

Therefore, Margaery, Tyrion and Varys had sat down and tried to figure out what could be real and what was fantasy.

At that point, immortal beings didn’t seem that far fetched. There had been an army of undead and dragons, so why would that be impossible?

The songs agreed on a few things: elves were beings of pure light, they were beyond beautiful, and they lived for a long time. Everything else was… Not so simple. Some stories pictured them as extremely benevolent creatures, full of goodwill and wisdom. Others portrayed them as fickle and untrustworthy, always willing to sacrifice what they considered ‘lesser’ creatures. It was hard to determine what was fiction, personal impressions, and they didn’t feel comfortable considering any of that actual information.

They poured over maps and figured a general direction and sent messengers.

Margaery hadn’t expected an answer, but she got one.

Tyrion had wanted to go, but Daenerys asked him to let Margaery go instead, since she was much better at first impressions. Marge was starting to think Tyrion might have had better luck with the King.

They were all beautiful; it was downright ridiculous. There wasn’t a single elf she’d seen that was less than stunning; men or women, they all had perfect facial symmetry. And there was this… Strange glow. It did look like they were made of light -or at least had great skin care. And the King…

Margaery wasn’t a girl to be infatuated with good looking men, but… She had never seen a face like his. It was… It was perfect, because there was no other word for it. Even his hair was perfect.

She was still figuring out what was true from what she’d read, and mostly elves were… Odd. She could imagine that being immortal could get boring after a while, and maybe that’s why they seemed too detached from the world.

The only elf who’d talked to her more was Lady Tauriel. She was supposedly guarding Margaery, but the young woman knew she was just keeping an eye on the human.

Tauriel was a fierce warrior, and extremely young by elves’ parameters. She wasn’t even a thousand years old yet.

She was also full of questions. She wanted to know about Westeros, the dragons, the dead, the Queen, the war…

Margaery didn’t mind talking to her, because she was the only one willing to talk back and let the lady know what to expect from elves in general.

There was also prince Legolas, who was also extremely beautiful -not as much as his father, of course. He seemed to mistrust her on principle, but Margaery didn’t care about his opinion at all.

She wanted to talk to the King, but he was never around.

Tauriel admitted that the King did this occasionally, then came around saying that weeks were a blink of an eye to him, so he’d forgotten. She was also unsure if he was serious about it, or just messing with them all.

That wasn’t encouraging.

“Lady Tyrell, the King has invited you for dinner.”

Well, finally.

***

The dinner was intimate, for lack of a better word. If he was anyone else, Margaery would think he was trying to get her alone and seduce her, but the idea seemed laughable when it came to him.

They sat together for the meal and she was served the best wine she’d ever tasted. She tried making small talk for a while, but then got the distinct impression he was amused by her attempts, so she became quiet and waited for him to say something.

“Tell me about your Queen.” He asked eventually. “Not the pretty lies and the poetry. Tell me the truth.”

Margaery took a minute to think about it. “What do you know about the Targaryens and the war that almost ended then, Your Majesty?”

“Nothing about that.” He replied easily. “I don’t pay attention to human affairs. Once the last dragon died, I didn’t care anymore.”

“I see.” Margaery told him about the Mad King and the rebellion against him, and how Daenerys and her brother had escaped and lived in exile. She told him about Daenerys being sold into marriage in exchange for an army.

During the whole tale of Daenerys’ conquests in Essos, Thranduil barely moved. Margaery wasn’t even sure he was actually listening to what she was saying, but -as he didn’t tell her to stop -she just carried on.

That was until she spoke of their first meeting.

“What did you think of her when you first met?” He finally asked.

“I thought she was pretty.” Margaery admitted. “I thought she couldn’t possibly be the woman of the stories. She’s quite short, and looks very dainty.”

“And after?”

This was a tricky question. Margaery had already learned she couldn’t lie to him, and the answer to that question was…

“I was…” She took a sip of her wine to buy herself some time. “I was intimidated. She’s fierce and the people that serve her are loyal. Honestly, at that point I just wanted someone to kill Cersei Lannister.”

“So you didn’t mind what type of person she’d be.”

“No, not really.” Margaery confessed. “I just wanted her to end Cersei, I didn’t particularly care how. I barely escaped King’s Landing with my life, I wanted retribution.”

“Do you believe in your Queen?”

“She’s young.” Margaery spoke diplomatically. “I think she will grow into her role, and she’ll be a great Queen.”

“How political of you.” Thranduil took a sip from his wine, and Marge felt as if she’d lost his interest. “Do people in Westeros still talk about the gods tossing coins to know if a Targaryen will be mad?”

“I… I didn’t know that story was that old.”

“Trust me, it is.” His eyes turned back to her. “Is your Queen mad?”

“No.”

He hummed. “You are uncertain.”

She was. Margaery didn’t dislike or envy Daenerys, and she had supported the Queen and intended to continue doing so.

But…

“Only time will say, sire.”

“You do have a way with words, Lady Tyrell.” He sighed. “I don’t care to listen more about the Dragon Queen. Tell me about yourself, Lady Tyrell.”

“Myself? What would you like to know, sire?”

“The truth, but only the interesting parts.” He was still watching her. “You don’t strike me as a simple woman, and you do seem smarter than most humans.”

Margaery couldn’t help but chuckle. “How kind of you, sire.”

“There’s something about you, Lady Tyrell. Something that is vaguely interesting.”

This time Margaery couldn’t hold in her laughter. “Oh sire. You are so charming.” She couldn’t stop giggling. “I think this wine is too strong.”

The corner of Thranduil’s mouth was curled up. “For some, yes.”

“I can tell you whatever you want to hear, sire, but it’s not that interesting. Or pretty.”

“Pretty stories are normally lies, Lady Tyrell. I’m interested in the truth. Tell me something that will make me pay attention.”

“I’ve been married three times and all of them are dead.” She blurted out a bit less gracefully than she’d have liked. That wine was going way too fast.

Thranduil arched an eyebrow. “Now that is something that sounds interesting.”

#madame baggio #crackship #CrossOver #Crossover Pairings #gifs not mine #the hobbit #game of thrones #margaery tyrell #Thranduil #Margaery x Thranduil

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years ago

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Prince of Nothing III

~ Part Three of Five ~

Release Date: July 17,2020 @ 12 a.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 6,646

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents in this story may not be suitable for all audiences. These include toxic relationships, manipulation, gore and various forms of abuse as well as rationalization of said abuse. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

A small part of Yoongi trembles at the sight of the light blue house just a few feet away. It had been several weeks since he’d been there and it took all of his self-control, and a bit more, to stay away. It was his safe space. Somewhere he felt incredibly safe and after the guilt threatened to eat him alive Yoongi needed a break. Needed his songbird to take away his pain even if it was momentarily. The driver opened the car door, allowing him to step out. His saunter was light, feet barely touching the ground, even though he desired nothing more than to break into a sprint. Min Yoongi must always maintain an air of pacificity and general aloofness. Emotions were a weakness and now that the prince was aware of his, Yoongi had to proceed with caution.

“Welcome home, Master.”

“Where is he?”

Yoongi wasted no time with pleasantries. His cat-like eyes darted around every corner of the room attempting to find any trace of his beloved. “He’s in the garden master. He hasn’t eaten much since your departure.” Yoongi sighed, heading towards the back porch. There were many places that his songbird was allowed to be inside the manor, but he always preferred the garden. It was the only piece of the outside world he was entitled to see, Yoongi had told him it was for his protection. Even if they both knew it was a lie.

As he turned the corner he suddenly stopped, from where he stood he could see the porch in all its entirety. The glass that encased it allowed for one to view the beauty of the outside world without being exposed to the harshness the elements may bring. It was a beautiful day, the setting sun filtered through the glass creating prisms of rainbows which danced around the room but what shined brightly was him: draped longingly across the plush blue velvet chaise. The tan of his skin glowed effortlessly and Yoongi always found himself admiring it. When he wasn’t admiring the pillowy lips, sharp eyes, and rounded bottom that is.

“Songbird?” The man in question paid him no mind, despite Yoongi knowing he'd been heard. Slowly he approached him, his songbird was delicate yet ferocious. Life had forced him to live on extremes to survive and though Yoongi wished he could say that all of this had changed since being in his care - it had only worsened.

“I thought you would’ve replaced me by now. Seeing as you have found yourself a new toy.” There was an edge to the man’s tone, the words almost withered at the end.

Yoongi rushed towards him, his strong arms cradling his fragile lover, as he tried to calm his fears. “No, my love. That wasn’t for me. It was a favor I did for the prince.” His songbird stilled in his arms, he had only met the prince once in his life but it was enough to instill fear in him forever. A repressed memory of blood and screams flashing in front of the young man’s eyes. Yoongi didn’t understand why his lover struggled to get out of his hold.

“J-”

“So you’ve condemned someone else to suffer the same fate as I have?!" There it was the rage in his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head ready to defend himself, but his love doesn't buy it. "Why else would a Jeon be interested in a commoner?!" Despite all his efforts, Yoongi managed to maneuver the man back into his arms. Yoongi felt fire travel through his veins, vexed at how his beloved behaved.

“Don’t speak as if you are a prisoner. I have given you the world.”

“In return, you’ve locked me away in a cage, so that your songbird may only sing for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, shoving his songbird off him and standing up. "If you don't want me then, I'll leave. Wallow in your self-pity by yourself." Before Yoongi could take even a step away, the younger man had grabbed hold of his wrist. It was several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "I've longed for you so much. Please don't leave me alone again." Just like that his songbird was broken once again, unable to sing. Tenderly, Yoongi placed his hands on either side of his lover's cheeks, cupping them gently as he leaned in closer. Their kiss was superficial, one-sided, but it didn't mean it wasn't passionate. Even if one side was fulled by love and the other by loathing.

YN ran through the long-winded corridors attempting to find a way out. She had been running for several minutes now and knew that she couldn’t be too far off from a staircase or the servant’s quarters, but her surroundings remained the same. It felt as if she was running in place. As if the castle itself was determined to not let her escape. Eventually, YN’s body grew depleted and she rested against the wall, listening intently for either guards or her captor to come to find her. It was the rhythmic clicking of heels that alerted her that someone was near. Vito, who had been comfortably resting upon YN’s forearm trailed up her body, wrapping across her neck and dangling down: ready to attack.

Jungkook had given YN a weapon, one that wouldn’t attack him, but wouldn’t hesitate to defend her. It caused her to worry, it meant that the prince was certain he was not the only threat to her safety. It seems there were those who were bigger and worse than him - or liked to pretend they were. Mistress Eun rounded the corner, her flamboyant yellow dress caused her to stick out like a sore thumb. It had been weeks since YN had seen the woman responsible for her brother’s death. If it were up to Eun both of them would be six feet under. Mistress Eun, in a world of her own, didn’t notice YN until they were mere feet apart. Her expression was one of shock before she quickly schooled it, grinning maliciously.

“Well if it isn’t the talk of the town.” Eun’s eyes dragged down YN’s figure and a disgruntled look overcame her face when she noted how YN’s lavish gowns far surpassed hers. “If it isn’t the prince’s whore, look at you effectively climbing up the social ladder. What would your brother say?”

YN didn’t respond, too furious to even attempt too, on the outside though she looked nonchalant and that bothered the older woman. It enraged her. “You really ought to be thanking me, child, if it weren’t for me you would have never met the prince. Likely would’ve died in a pigsty with no one to remember you.” The wrath turned icy cool and YN began to wonder if this is how Jungkook felt at times. She could almost hear him whispering to her: Do it. Hurt her. You know you want to. Mistress Eun stepped closer to YN, face mere inches away from hers as she hurled more insults. “The two of you were rats. Pests. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here so don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re just a plaything to spare his boredom.” YN smirked causing Eun’s blood to boil.

You wouldn’t get caught. It would be so simple. Vito could do it. YN tightened her fists, letting her nails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Then again, had your brother simply accepted to sleep with me and not embarrassed me with his rejection he’d still be alive.” Had Eun known those words would seal her fate, perhaps she’d have been more careful. Though it is unlikely she would have, she was never particularly smart and always brash.

YN’s hands flew around Eun’s throat tightening and squeezing as Vito jumped out aiding her. Do it! Kill her! It was not her voice inside her head, it was not her controlling her movements. Once YN realized that she ripped her hands off Eun's throat, taking Vito with her. By then, however, it was too late. Mistress Eun lay dead on the castle floor. The shock caused YN to remain frozen staring at the hollow eyes that seemed to plead at her. Her haze dropped to her hands where Vito was resting, they were shaking incessantly. Jungkook’s voice was no longer in her head, but YN was certain it wasn’t a delusion. What is going on? Strong arms wrapped around YN’s torso hoisting her up, YN’s reaction was too delayed to have been able to do anything.

It was someone YN had never met, blonde ashen hair stood out against his dark palette. He cast one glance at Eun before his hooded eyes fell upon YN a sense of familiarity in them. “The guards will be here any second. Run straight and turn left, there is a large tapestry attached to the wall. Push against it with all your might, it’s a door. Follow the sound of the cicadas and you’ll make it out.” YN parted her lips to question him, but she heard the distant murmurs of guards. “Take that thing with you.” The stranger looked disparagingly at Vito who hissed back. YN gripped the serpent in her hand and took off, sparing one final glance at the mysterious stranger.

Jungkook held the mouse over Morte’s head, allowing the snake to lunge before quickly moving it away. This continued until the activity eventually grew dull and Jungkook let the dead mouse drop into the snake’s jaw. The young prince rolled over onto his bed, his mind drifting towards YN’s fear-ridden expression when she’d failed at hurting him. Not to mention the look of shock when he’d called her his queen. The girl was full of surprises and was like a drug to Jungkook - strangely addicting. A part of him longed to be near her at all times but knew that wouldn’t be the smartest decision. There were always eyes on Jeon Jungkook, but now there were eyes on YN too and he couldn’t risk it. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

Morte stilled beside him alerting Jungkook to the potential danger. Jungkook lifts himself from his bed, looking towards the door. Awaiting the knock that was sure to come, Jungkook wondered who would be so audacious as to bother him in his bed chambers. They were likely more reckless than bold. "Come in." Jungkook mumbles, seconds later Seo Kangjoon is greeting him. Jungkook supposes he should have known it wouldn't be long before the Seo’s came to force his hand. It aggravated him to no end that they thought he would simply bend over to their will. The Seo’s held power: their family was the head of agriculture in the land. The crown needed them for crops and they were very popular, along with the peasantry, seen as beautiful yet polite people. What a fucking joke. Jungkook saw through their facade, much like everyone else the Seo’s were desperate for more power. Becoming part of the royal family would provide that in unprecedented amounts.

“To what do I owe the pressure of having the Kangjoon in my bedroom unannounced? Hoping for a repeat of that night?” Jungkook smirked, seeing Kangjoon visibly tense. The prairie’s golden boy had too much to drink during his bachelor’s night and Jungkook was there to witness his true depravity. Kangjoon shook his head, “Would you have accepted my requests to see you had I done so officially, your highness?” It annoyed the prince to no end how Seo refused to play along. Kangjoon wasn’t as smart as Soojin, not by any means, but it was his sex that determined he be the heir. Even if Soojin was destined to rule. Though Kangjoon’s intelligence lay in his practicality - which is why he always refused to engage in mind games with the prince. He knew he’d lose.

“I am here to warn you.” Oh? "I have a meeting with the king to discuss your marriage with my cousin. We don't wish to force the hand of a future family member, but given the recent developments, we are quite embarrassed. I hope you understand." Kangjoon bowed deeply, excusing himself before heading towards the King's corridors. Jungkook gazed out towards his spot, his hand lashed out gripping the canopy of his bed and in one swift move, it crushed in his hand. It almost landed on his snake had Morte not had fast reflexes. Jungkook left the room searching for his beloved fiance.

Soojin had never looked worse. The purple welts around her neck were too small and thin to have been caused by human hands leading Jungkook to assume it had been Vito who’d done the damage and not YN. Still, Soojin’s usually perfect hair was a tangled mess that darted in every direction and her almond eyes were puffy and red around the edges. The second she saw Jungkook she let him know who was to blame, “She did this to me.” Jungkook didn’t answer simply kissing her forehead gently, Soojin leaned into his embrace. Soojin places her head in the crook of the prince’s neck closing her eyes. Her neck ached painfully, but she had refused any more medication not wanting to see the pitying look of the palace’s healer.

“Your cousin is here to speak to my father about our wedding.”

Soojin stills, raising her head cautiously. She recognizes the edge in Jungkook’s tone. “I’m sorry. It isn’t him, but my mother who insists we be wed. I told her about the king, but-”

“Shush.” Jungkook smiled tenderly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Soojin frowned, confused by his words, Jungkook hated being told what to do. Undermining him to go see his father would have definite consequences. “In fact, I think they’re right.” Soojin pulled away from Jungkook, needing space to properly comprehend what he was saying.

Jungkook smiles, dimples on show, “Let’s get married.”

YN had been walking for hours, it had been evening when YN had escaped but something told her it was nearing dawn. The corridors were cold and damp, unlike the rest of the palace they looked incredibly old. A testament to its legacy. The cold had been too much for Vito who was now nestled inside YN’s bosom, needing heat to survive. Being unable to properly see anything in front of her due to the darkness, it made her footing sloppy. So, when she stepped on a loose stone and twisted her ankle she went down with great force. “Fuck.” It was then that YN began to wonder if she would die inside the castle walls. Her body withering away until nothing, but a corpse remained. Would she join her brother? Or had her actions led to her having a reserved space in hell? YN was somewhat surprised Jungkook hadn’t found her yet but was also terrified that her thoughts seemed to always go to him.

It was as if she was under a spell. Though it was certain that Jungkook had found a way to bind Vito to her, she didn't want to focus on how she questioned if the prince had done the same thing to them. Before with Eun, she had not been herself. As if someone were coercing her into doing said things. YN trembled with fear if Jungkook could coerce her into murder then what else could he have her do?

“He’s a menace!”

Her head snapped left as she heard more yells and strange noises. YN pushed herself up from the ground with the little strength that remained and walked towards them. Soon enough, YN saw a light, getting closer; she saw what looked like a window peering into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a mirror that looked into someone’s private office though who YN couldn’t decipher. Not until the figure emerged from the corner babbling to himself in an incoherent way that explained his state of mind. “Jungkook has been a murderer since the day he was born and will lead this kingdom to ruin if I don’t stop him!” YN’s hands flew up to her mouth to stop the gasp. YN had heard much about King Jeon the II growing up, the man was ferocious in the way only a Jeon could be. Still, he paled in comparison to Jeon the I, and that meant the war and social injustices that had long plagued the kingdom ended during his reign, or so it seemed.

YN couldn’t see all of him now, his back was towards her as the King faced a portrait hanging on the wall. Nonetheless, she could recognize the familiar slope of his shoulders and rigid posture as something his son had inherited. Yes, Jungkook was very much his father but managed to surpass him at a young age in just about every aspect. Even the love of his people. For that, it was said the king would always despise him but the real reason lay in the portrait he spoke to. No one knew much about the late Queen only that she was effortlessly beautiful and seeing her portrait YN couldn’t agree more. She held a softness to her that contrasted greatly with her husband and son, though if YN looked deeper she could see Jungkook had parts of her too.

Jeon muttered to himself once more and it dawned on YN that he was speaking to the portrait. "You're right my love. If I do it the people will turn against me, but if we blame the Kim girl…" YN's eyes widened, she stepped back, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. At that moment, Jeon freezes as if aware he's being watched. "Come out." The king speaks lowly, all the anguish has gone from his voice. In a split second, he draws a dagger from his clothes and sends it hurtling toward its target. But instead of the mirror, it is the door. YN doesn't waste the opportunity and flees once more.

"Mistress Eun was found dead last night. Similar attack to the one that occurred to the princess, Miss YN is nowhere to be found." Baekhyung announces loudly, his back bent at a ninety-degree angle to not offend the crown prince. Jungkooks nods, wiping his hands free of blood before returning to the book on his desk. Baekhyung grimaces slightly at the sight before him, knowing it’ll be him cleaning up the mess as the maids won’t go near the body. “Make sure to find her Baekhyung and bring her back to me.” Jungkook picks up the book leaning back in his chair, the title ‘Golden Ones’ had always drawn the guards attention but he knew to ponder any further would get him killed.

“What is the official story, your highness?”

Jungkook cast one final glance at Kangjoon’s corpse, it was a bloody mess with the heart ripped out and blood still oozing. The prince would have to replace his favorite carpet. “The king was so upset with having his hand forced about the Seo matter that he lost it and killed their last male heir. What a tragedy.” Baekhyung nods, before tilting his head towards Jinyoung who sighed under his breath and helped him carry the body out.

By the time YN had managed to escape dawn had broken and the sky was a pleasant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples all blended. Perhaps it had been the fact that YN had remained surrounded by darkness all night, that it had been so long since she had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the beauty of nature surrounding her that caused YN to stop. Vito was still asleep, YN felt exhaustion spread throughout her body. She began to sway from one side to the next and knew it wouldn’t be long until she collapsed. YN forced herself to continue forward, attempting to reach the edge of the forest before anyone caught her. The more distance she traveled the farther away the forest seemed. YN wasn’t sure if her perception was muddled or there was something else at play here.

It wouldn't matter anyway for the prince's guard hounds were on her tail. "You there! What do you think you're doing?!" YN let out a sigh of frustration. Every damn time. YN watched a large man with dark hair and thick eyebrows approach her, a bit of tension leaving her body when she realized he must have been a regular guard and not part of the knighthood. “I’m sorry, I was visiting my sister in the servant’s quarters when I got lost.” YN couldn’t think of anything more convincing but figured something complex wouldn’t work well in her case. The guard’s eyes narrowed, “As if I’m going to believe that. You look like a common whore, probably hoping to snag some nobleman, huh?”

The guard gripped her tightly pulling her close so that their bodies were touching. Almost instantaneously, the man fell to his knees back twisting painfully as he groaned out in pain. “I would refrain from touching what isn’t yours.” YN recognized the voice and turned around to see Jinyoung accompanied by another man dressed in similar attire. “The prince wouldn’t appreciate knowing some lowlife dirtied his favorite toy.” YN’s face scrunched up in disgust at Jinyoung’s words, she began to wonder whether she could escape the men but it seems they were onto her.

“Miss YN, the prince has been searching for you all night. He requests your presence.” The shorter one spoke, YN raised her eyebrow at him but he simply smiled. “Kim Baekhyung, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” YN ignored him, “You can tell the prince that I dissent his request.” Jinyoung smiled, “Ah, I forgot to mention the prince never did say we had to bring you back in one piece.”

“Oh, how you always manage to surprise me, darling.” Jungkook’s smug smile was far too large for YN’s liking. She’d been brought to his chambers against her will and judging from the glint in his eyes, he had something planned. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken a liking to Vito.” He eyed the snake draped across her décolletagle. YN crossed her arms over her chest as Vito slithered down her body towards Morte’s resting bed, desiring to be with the other snake. “Look their friends.” Jungkook seemed too enthusiastic to YN which was the exact opposite of what he normally was.

“Morte could eat him alive.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

Jungkook turned his attention back to YN, noticing the state of distress of her gown before his eyes crawled back to her. “So tell me,” Jungkook leaned back onto the settee tilting his head slightly. “How did you escape?” If Jungkook knew about YN’s discovery then she’d be screwed. Though YN was beginning to pierce through the enigma that was Jeon Jungkook, she could never be sure whether she had managed to evade his game or play right into it. “Your fiance tried to murder me.” Jungkook shrugged, “I expected as much. Lions are volatile creatures, hot-headed too, best not to mess with them.” YN rolled her eyes, “The only reason Soojin attacked me was because of you. Shouldn’t it be you facing the actions of your consequences?!”

“You would blame a man in love?”

YN scoffed, “This isn’t love, it’s nothing but a game to you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a love game.” Jungkook smirked, enjoying intensely how YN’s brows furrowed in frustration.

“What did you call me in for, your highness?”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, YN's stepped back a few feet in trepidation, something that the twisted prince enjoyed. He lifts his hand and brushes YN's lower lip delicately, "I wanted to tell you to switch your m.o. Strangulation is far too noticeable. I'd hate for you to draw unwanted attention." Slowly he circled YN letting his hand trail above her torso. "It was an accident, I didn't want to hurt her." Jungkook chuckled, arms wrapping tightly around YN's waist. "Who, darling?" His lips brushed the long arch of her neck, his arms tightening every second that passed by. "Soojin or Eun? Which one was an accident?" YN cast her eyes downward focusing on the snakes noticing how Morte had wrapped around Vito and was embracing him, or was it the other way around?

"You made me do it." YN struggled to get the words out, all she could see was Eun's dead body. All she could remember was the feeling of wringing her throat out until nothing remained. Jungkook gripped her chin, "Did I make you do it? Or did I permit you?" When they kissed it was tender so opposed to how the prince usually was. Jungkook was holding her as if afraid she would break. The kiss immediately distracted YN and she couldn't help but give in to it, just to escape the darkness in her mind. That is until a bitter tang filled her mouth and went down her throat. YN pushed away from Jungkook, spitting out his blood from her mouth.

Jungkook smiles sadistically, his tongue swiping across his lips to clean any remnants of blood. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" YN screams wiping her mouth in utter disgust. The man in question rolls his eyes as if the answer was oh so obvious. "I love you that's what." YN knew it was never good to reveal a trump card as it may come in handy later on, but she would have given anything at that moment to knock Jeon Jungkook down a peg or two.

“Your father is plotting to murder you.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face crumbled, his eyes widening in shock as he numbly asked, "What?" He looked so much like a lost child and YN felt regret pool at her stomach until his expression changed to one of rage. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook stood in front of YN, hand wrapping tightly around her neck as he lifted her from the ground. "What did you say?" YN struggles against his hold, her hands clawing at his to get him to let go. The only did he did was place her back on the ground, but his clasp remained.

“I saw him speaking to a portrait of a woman. He was going on and one about how you were a murderer from a young age and a threat he had to put a stop to.”

The pupil had all but consumed the iris in Jungkook’s eyes allowing YN to see herself perfectly reflected in them. “I don’t fucking believe you,” Jungkook screamed though there was a hint of pain towards the end that YN latched onto. “I swear it’s the truth!” She searched her mind for anything, any detail, that could convince the distrustful man that what she was saying was the truth. YN was beginning to feel dizzy as if she could pass out at any second, finally, she remembered. “S-she had your eyes.” Jungkook’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he let go of YN, letting her crumble to the ground. YN wheezed as she tried to regain her lost breath, well aware of the glare the prince had fixed on her.

“And how exactly were you in the king’s private study?”

In her disoriented state, the words slipped right out. “I saw it through a mirror.”

A moment passed before Jungkook smiled once more, a small ‘Ah’ leaving his lips. “You found the corridors. That’s how you escaped.” He crouched down in front of YN, “Though I doubt you’re aware of all of them, so you must’ve stumbled upon the one behind the tapestry.” Jungkook reached out patting down YN’s frazzled hair and tugging one side of it behind her ear. “Don’t worry I’ll have it sealed soon enough.” YN shoves his hand away, climbing to her feet. “I should have never told you.” Jungkook nods, “If it weren’t for your kindness you might have had me off your hands.”

He went to continue speaking but suddenly paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Why did you tell me?”

“He was going to pin it on me.”

A pause, then. “You aren’t as selfless as you think you are.”

News traveled fast of the wedding meant to bind the Seo’s and Jeon’s, while Jungkook had yet to mention it to YN there were too many outside forces for him to be able to avoid going through with it. Something which caused her great satisfaction. Though it was a cloudy day, YN found she enjoyed being outside nonetheless. Sana was currently by her side enjoying how the king’s many hunting dogs pranced around the garden. They were in the balcony near the throne room, YN was once again dressed in the finest garbs money could buy - Sana having forced her into them.

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Sana reached out, squeezing YN’s shoulder comfortingly.

YN had told Sana everything one night after having one too many cups of wine and being cared for by the maid during her bath. Sana had assured YN that as much as the prince desired to wed her, as long as she was a peasant it wouldn’t be allowed. She wasn’t too certain that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to find a loophole, but it pacified her nerves. Not to mention her prompt meeting with the king had caused more rumors to surround her. Even while she was certain it was just Sana and her, YN could feel eyes piercing through her.

“Miss Kim?”

YN turned around to see Baekhyung bowing before her, instantly YN knew something was wrong. “They’re ready for you.”

When YN stepped foot inside the room it was filled with nobility, hushed whispers of incredulity falling from their mouth. Sitting perched upon the throne with a crown resting upon his perfectly styled hair was the prince of everything, Jeon Jungkook himself. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t have…

“Unfortunately, my father is ill and won’t be able to attend any of his royal duties today, so I shall do it in his place,” Jungkook announced to the crowd of people, the second he spoke a deadly silence weighed over the room. Whether it was out of fear or respect was yet to be deciphered. Jungkook fixed his stare on YN and she could swear the prince blinked at her, but it was to quick to tell. "As most of you are aware by now, Mistress Eun has suddenly passed due to her misuse of substances. This has caused her land and title to have been lost." Jungkook wasn't just speaking to YN, but everyone.

“Due to her lands needing to be tended for and properties managed, someone needs to step forward to claim.” His dark eyes fixed on YN, “I hereby name Miss YN Kim and her heir’s sole proprietor of Eun’s lands and assets. Thereby granting her the title of Lady.” YN stilled in fear, but aware of the eyes on her she bowed deeply. “Thank you, your royal highness.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Once again Jeon Jungkook had won.

“A Kim?!”

“The king must be really out of his mind.”

“Another Kim in court? Isn’t one enough?”

“Everyone knows the real reason she received them. Has she no shame?!”

“Lady Kim,” YN turned around to see the crown of someone’s head, the ashy blonde hair all too familiar. It’s him. The man who had found Eun’s body and helped her escape. But why? The man rose from his bow, YN being able to see the deadly look in his eye. “Lord Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” YN’s eyes widened, but Namjoon remained unaffected. Taking her hand into his and placing a small kiss over the knuckles. Though Jungkook was nowhere in sight, YN was certain she could feel him gauging her. If Jungkook knew it was Namjoon who aided her escape, heads would roll. Best to pretend then, it seems that is what Namjoon desired to do as well.

“Pleasure is mine, my lord. I was unaware there was another Kim in court.”

Namjoon smirked, “It’s not necessarily something the King would so openly acknowledge.” He tilted his head away from the crowd, signaling her to follow him. As they walked YN could hear more hushed gossip surrounding her, but most of it came from faceless individuals - no one of importance. “You’ve managed to cause quite a stir in your short time here, my lady.”

“It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

“Still I am not surprised, a woman as beautiful as yourself is bound to cause a ruckus anywhere.”

YN blushed, “You toy with me, my lord.”

Namjoon smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye that said he was. “I would never dare.”

They stopped moving and YN realized Namjoon had maneuvered her away from the crowd, still close enough that they were in the room, but too far away for anyone to hear what was being discussed. YN longed to know why he’d helped her but figured that it hadn’t been done altruistically. The young lord stepped forward, “If I were to be so bold as to offer a word of advice, my lady?” A chill went down YN’s spine and her hand tightened into a fist, wishing Vito was there with her. “You’ve been so bold already,” YN cast her eyes around the room seeing Sana standing by the door speaking to Jinyoung. Her brow furrowed as the two seemed to be in a heated discussion. “I don’t see what harm a bit more could do.” She turned back to Namjoon who seems to have followed her line of sight.

“Are you familiar with your family’s history?”

“I have no family.”

“You are a Kim are you not?”

“It is only a name.”

Namjoon chuckles, “Ah, but what’s in a name?” Once again the lord stepped closer, “May I recommend the story of Soo and So? I think you’ll find it quite an intriguing read.”

“As much as I’d like to, my lord, I own no such story or book. I’d doubt the king is stocked up on history books that do not relate to him.”

“Ah, that is true. What a shame indeed.”

Sana trailed behind her quietly, something YN found quite odd as the girl tended to be incredibly lively. Perhaps Sana pitied her given the circumstance, but that couldn’t be it. The girl had previously stated how much more she enjoyed being YN’s personal maid than having to run around the castle. Maybe she’s tired? Or maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Jinyoung - YN's guard dog. Before they reached the door leading to YN's bedroom Sana suddenly halted. "I'm sorry mistress, but if I could be excused? I'm not feeling all too well." YN was a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless. She was about to ask Sana if there was anything she could do to help, but the maid had already runoff.

YN sighed, unlocking the door to her bedroom. When she entered she noticed Vito was feasting on his latest meal, so YN shed her dress and headed straight for bed. Hoping to catch some sleep before dinner was delivered, her actions stopped when she noted the gift placed on her bed. It was nicely wrapped in fine silk with a ribbon on top, peeling back the layers YN found it was a book. When she opened it, a note fell out:

I could only find the abridged version, apologies - KNJ

YN’s hands ran through the spine and bold lettering at the front, the words ‘Golden Ones’ peering back at her in a metallic red.

Jeon Jungkook had just finished his bath when his peace was once again disturbed by the rasping of knuckles on his door. He groaned asking who it was as he imagined harming whoever deemed themselves important enough to intrude on his time. Imagine the surprise on the young prince’s face when none other than his lover appeared. “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” YN stood hesitantly by the door consciously trying to convince herself not to back out of the plan. If he was annoyed at her silence he didn’t say anything instead Jungkook tilted his head and asked, “What game are you playing?”

YN stepped into the room, closing the door behind her careful not to turn around. Jungkook was like a predator - eye contact was essential for survival. YN’s eyes danced around the room not finding Morte anywhere in sight. “I’ve decided to not play any games. I know I’ll never beat you.”

Jungkook smirks, eyeing YN's figure up and down. "Well then, this may be the most fun game we've ever played."

YN ambled towards Jungkook, their eyes remaining on each other. Waiting for the moment the other faltered to strike.

“Where’s your pet, my lady?”

“In my bedroom, your highness. He is shedding.”

“Where’s Morte?”

“Where she needs to be.”

As they neared each other Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed, encouraging YN to join him. YN straddled Jungkook, trying to calm her racing heart from giving her away. “What am I to you?” Her eyes were wide and honest, as she asked. It had been foolish to think the answer would change.

“My Queen.”

It was the intensity of the prince’s stare that caused YN to look away, her eyes landed on a glass and gold chessboard. “I’ve never been a good player.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyes-rolling. “I doubt that’s true.” His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to rise.

“Isn’t the king the most vulnerable of them all?”

Jungkook nods, letting his lips brush against hers trying to draw her attention back onto him. “Which is why he needs a powerful queen.”

YN chuckled, parting her lips and allowing the venom laced words to hit their target. “Good thing, Soojin will be your queen.”

The prince visibly tenses, his hand coming to grip YN’s waist tightly. He forces her to look at him as his eyes filled with a heady mix of lust and rage. “That’s a dangerous game you're playing, love.”

YN shrugs, “I’m not playing a game. I’m only trying to prove a point.”

“Oh?” Jungkook uses his grip on YN’s waist to push them closer together, leaving only centimeters between the star-crossed lovers.

“What you feel or think you feel is not love. It’s infatuation fueled by lust.” YN allowed her lips to brush Jungkook’s, though they never fully kissed. “I’m just a shiny new toy you want to play with until you get bored.”

"I will never tire of you YN, you can be certain of that." Jungkook's tongue swiped across his lips to moisten them. "Though if you are so certain, let's have a wager." Jungkook released his hold on her waist allowing YN to move away. Now that they stood feet apart, it felt as if this was a serious affair. "If what I feel for you is nothing more than infatuation, I promise to let you go." He lifted his palm as if taking an oath.

YN scoffed, “No. If I am right, then you will marry Soojin and make her your queen.” She wasn’t going to fall for his schemes any longer. Jungkook nodded, leaning back to rest on his elbows. When he failed to speak any further YN’s eyes narrowed, “Declare your wager.”

“I think I’ll save mine for later. Makes things more interesting don’t you agree?” Jungkook looked all too pleased with himself, the prince thought everything was under his control. But, just as YN often underestimated him, it seems he had now underestimated her. “So, what’s your big plan to prove your point?”

“Sleep with me.”

#yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #ykn #prince of nothing iii #pon #pon iii #girlmeetsliv3

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ilove-cedricdiggory · 4 years ago

Text

Remus Lupin and the Professor

Part 2 ❤️

I woke at the sound of my alarms, both magical and muggle. I wasn't really leaving anything about today up to the chance of tardiness.

Slipping on my clothes, feeling slightly strange not needing to put on my yellow hufflepuff robes and matching tie. I had woken slightly earlier than I'm sure I needed to, wanting to make sure that, if I forgot anything, I had plenty of time to fix it before classes started.

I quickly found myself in the Great Hall, moving to the teachers table - finding it already full of plenty of breakfast items. Sitting in my seat, I placed a few things on my own plate, enjoying that I could eat in a comfortable slow pace. I watched as the room slowly filled with students, the morning risers in a much better mood than the others.

"If I remember correctly, Miss. Smith, you were one of the sulky ones back in your day, were you not?" Minerva's voice filled my ears as i chuckled lightly, nodding my head slightly..

"You know, for a hufflepuff, you really aren't a morning person." Sirius' voice rang in my ears as my head laid on the table, attempting to get any more sleep before classes.

"Oh yeah, Siri. Hufflepuff discrimination. Not all of us are exactly the same you know. We do have characteristics and qualities that make us different." I mumbled out to him, glaring at him through a small hole in my eye.

"You know I'm only joking Ry. We know tons of hufflepuffs and you're the only one we let into our group. There has to be something special about you." He continued his teasing, eating a grape from his plate.

"You and I both know, the only reason you guys let me in the group is because Momma Potter would skin you each alive if she found out you guys were making me feel left out at school." James nodded his head at that one, but wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Come on, you know I didn't have to be told by mom to hang out with you. You're practically my sister."

That part was true, just like my own statement. My parents lived next door to the Potters, but they were both gone quite frequently, leaving me with the Potters. I was a year younger than the Maurauders, meaning that James protected me a bit more, therefore meaning the others did too.

"Practically your sister? I'm wounded. Here I was, telling everyone James Potter was my brother but to you, I'm only practically. I'ma tell momma." I teased, pulling out a quill and spare parchment, acting as if I was writing to his mother.

.."Momma P, I am in deep distress as I write to you. James is going around telling everyone I'm basically a stranger to the family. I don't know what to - HEY! James Potter, give me my letter back!" I laughed as he quickly tore the note to shreds, glaring at me. "You're gonna get me a howler, you go sending her stuff like that. I treat you better than the boys, and that's saying something." I laughed, nodding my head in agreement.

After their first year together, James was always bragging about the other boys to anyone who would listen, especially to us. I had heard so much about them, I practically knew them as well as James. What he had failed to mention was how attractive one in particular was. Although I would ask a few questions if he had written home each day telling me just how attractive his roommate was. But, when the three other boys floo'd into our living room later that summer, I found myself dreaming about the Remus Lupin standing in next to the fire place, shaking his hair free of the black dust that littered it.

"I can't really say you're wrong. Although, I bet I can say that - out of the five of us, you'd prefer me and my sour morning mood in your morning class than any of the boys." I laughed, smiling at the older woman.

"Now, now, that's not true. I do believe I could put up with Mr. Lupin before I could your morning grouchness." My breath caught in my throat as I heard him step closer, hearing his name brought up.

"What about me?" His voice rang in my ears, shaking me at my core. I hadn't heard it in years, 5 years to be exact. It was deeper than it was the last time we spoke. It was almost as he had gained more control of himself, even his voice.

"I am just reminding our lovely Miss. Smith about her horrible morning mood back when you both were students." She smiled fondly at him and I, watching as Remus took the seat next to me now.

"I do believe you're right. She was a bit of a hassle in the mornings then, wasn't she." I closed my eyes, begging the tears to not slip from their home.

Clearing my throat, I forced a smile onto my face and looked at my old professor. "I am so sorry to cut this short, but I simply can't wait to get to my classroom to prepare for my first class. If you'll excuse me." I quickly stood, waking as normally as I could to the end of the table and out of the teachers door, turning to the side and taking a deep breath.

"Rylee." His voice rang through my ears again, causing me to stand as straight as I could. "Mr. Lupin." I greeted, keeping my eyes from his entire frame, not risking it. "Rylee, come on." His voice was soft, much like his voice on my own first day, only many years ago..

I had bid goodbye to the boys, following the rest of the first years onto the boats. I hated that I had to be separated from them, especially James. I hadn't been nervous like this in a few months, the last time being when I met the Maurauders for the first time. I was absolutely terrified of how I would be placed. I didn't want to let anyone down. My parents, the Potters, James, and all of the boys were happily placed in Gryffindor, keeping their legacies proud.

I, on the other hand, was fearing my placement. I knew none of them would be mad at me, no matter what house I was placed in,but my mind did so much damage on it's own - it didn't really matter what reassurance I got from my family, I thought they would hate me.

Being so caught up in my head, I didn't even realize we had already stepped foot into the castle. I was over thinking so much, I missed the view of Hogwarts from the boats. Cursing myself mentally, my feet followed the rest of the first years as we waited for the large doors to open to lead us into the room filled with so many others.

As I walked in, my eyes scanned the room, in desire need to see my brother. Soon, my eyes landed on the four boys, all of them waiving at me. I nervously waved back, smiling a tense smile.

Listening to name after name called, I chewed on the skin surrounding my nails, a terrible habit of mine I had for years now. Soon enough, I glanced around to see myself standing alone, looking up as the sorting hat screamed the house of the student before me, "RAVENCLAW!" Cheers were heard from the table littered with blue robes. The boy smiled widely, walking as quickly as he could to his seat.

"Rylee Smith." I took small, shaky steps to the stool, sitting down on it. Before the hat was placed on my head, I took one last look at the four boys sitting at Gryffindor's table.

"Ahh, ahh, you're quite the student." I heard ring through my head. I bit my lip, listening to it's voice. "You are a nervous one, aren't you." I furrowed my eyebrows at this - weren't all the first years as nervous as I? "Some were, some weren't. It changes with each student." He reads my mind, duh. "You're entire family in gryffindor, eh? I see a lot in you, I really do. You can be brave - but only when you need to be. Incredibly smart, I can tell. Your ambitions are set..hmm. But one thing shines true with you. Yes.. you're heart sits with your loyalty. It doesn't waver, not at all, I can tell. I haven't seen a heart like this, well, sense Helga herself." My eyes widened under the hat as I gulped nervously. But what about James? He would be so ashamed to be associated with anyone other than Gryffindor, and the rest of the Maurauders, I'm sure. "I see one house meant for you, a house I haven't seen one made for quite like this sense it's creator. One that I say shone even stronger with that statement. I'd be incredibly wrong if I didn't say..."

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Rang out through the room, vibrating with it's sound. The hat was taken off my head as I heard the cheers coming from the table of yellow. But, before I took a step to them, my feet were carrying me into the arms of my brother. "I'm so sorry, I really am. You must hate that I'm hufflepuff, you just must. All of you." I sniffed, hating that I let them all down.

"Hey, hey." I was pulled at arms length, listening to James speak. "Rylee, I don't hate you, none of us do." He spoke, looking down at me, "Right boys?" He didn't even have to look up before they were all nodding in agreement. "Ry, in all honesty, if you weren't put in hufflepuff, we'd have thought the hat would need a check up. You're the most loyal person we all know. Hufflepuff just got the best first year in the entire class, and that's all you." Remus was speaking now, having come out from behind James. His voice incredibly soft and caring. The three others nodded their head to agree, before James pulled me back into his arms.

"Now, if you don't go sit with your house so we can all eat, I think I might have to send mom a letter and tell her you're not eating." He laughed softly, kissing my forehead gently before pushing me softly towards my table. I nodded, waving at them slightly before moving to sit down in the spot saved for myself, greeting a few of the hufflepuff's.

"You've gotta give me a chance to talk, Ryle's." That nickname, that stupid, stupid nickname that almost had me coming undone before him. "Like I told Minerva, Mr. Lupin, I do need to prepare myself for my first class. I will see you around." I quickly side-stepped the man before rushing off to the Herbology space, scolding myself for letting the tears fall as I went.

I made myself presentable for each of my classes, attempting to ignore the fact that he was here, wanting to talk to me. I had shrugged him off for years. I had fought off speaking to him sense their funeral. I didn't speak much to him before then either, refusing to come round' James and Lily's house for holidays in fear that he would be there. I was family, but so was he. I could never and would never make James choose between the two of us, but I never made it awkward for us all either.

The day of their funeral was when I saw him again. He was standing there, his body looking far worse than every single one of the full moons combined. I knew mine was too. I wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and let us both find comfort in each other like we did so many times. It wasn't really sexual between the two of us, at least, we never had sex. I had wanted to wait until after school before I had sex. But, we always comforted each other in a way I used to think only soulmates could. But, it turned out, we were further away from soulmates as two could be. He showed me that.

At the end of my first day, I found myself walking to the kitchens, much like I did in my school days. There was one thing that would always be there to comfort me like none other - baking. I had been in the kitchen so many times as a student, many of the house elfs had grown to expect me many times a day. Only, back then, I wasn't just baking for the comfort of it, but to make most kids in Hogwarts my notorious Snickerdoodles.

If there was one cookie I prided myself on, it was my snickerdoodles. They came naturally to me, being as good as ever with my first batch of them. Once I had begun sharing them in my age, I had plenty of students requesting them from me - from all the houses.

Entering the kitchens, I was met with the eyes of the elfs that I had honestly grown to love. "Rylee! Rylee's back!" It had taken just about all seven years, but I had convinced most of them to use my first name.

"Hey guys, I've missed you!" I said, greeting most of them before they let me to the oven. "We know what you're here for. You help you's self." I laughed, nodding at them and pulling out the ingredients to make the cookies.

"Rylee, Rylee, please tell me you have another batch." One of my closer friends from Slytherin was following me to my next class, begging in my ear. "I told you I did, but I gave you some this morning Lux. I don't even know how you could go through them that quickly." I stated, looking up at him. It was only my third year, but I had grown to meet quite a few people through my cookies.

"Leave me alone, Lucius." I heard, turning in my spot to see the man picking on a girl with vibrant red hair, a girl through a specific set of four people I recognized quite quickly. I excused myself from Lux, watching in horror as he pulled out his wand. I found myself stepping in front of the girl, my own wand now in my hand as I glared at the fourth year.

"She said to leave her alone, Lucius." If there was one thing I would be more than happy to do, it's stand up to my friends..or strangers... "Ah, the hufflepuff. Lovely to see you, love. If you'd kindly move, I was speaking to a different readhead." I stood my ground, my eyes as sharp as I could make them. "Lucius, now." Lux had now moved to stand next to me, the look on his face sharper than I had seen on him.

This caused the man to lower his wand and scoff, rolling his eyes. I placed my hand on my friend's arm as a thanks, but quickly moved to check on the older girl. "I told you she was off limits." I heard from the boy before all my attention was on the girl.

"Are you okay? I'm sure you had that, but I can't stand it when he does that to people." I growled, reaching into my bag to pull put the batch of cookies I had told Lux about. "Here, have one, it helps." I placed a cookie in her hands, smiling as she took a small bite. "Who are you? Holy Merlin these are good." She took a bigger bite from the cookie, causing me to smile at her delight. "Oh, sorry, I'm Rylee." I said, smiling at the slightly taller woman.

Her eyes perked, widening at me. "You're the Rylee? Snickerdoodle, Potter next door living, Hufflepuff Rylee?" I flinched at the association, sighing but nodding at her. "That's me." I said softly. "James talks about you so much, all of the boys do. James is always bragging to us about these stinking cookies, saying how amazing they are and rubbing them in our face. I never believed him - none of us did, but merlin they are good. He goes on and on about how he misses them, and you." I kicked the ground, biting my cheek at that.

"He said you've been avoiding him sense your first year. He didn't know why though." I nodded again, looking at the girl. "Yeah, after I was put in Hufflepuff, I didn't think he would want to be associated with one, or the rest of the boys, so I left him alone. He didn't put up much of a fight so I thought he appreciated it. But, here, you take the rest of this batch. Give them to him, and the boys. Tell them I miss them, please." I whispered, smiling at her.

"Oh, shoot, Tan!" I said, stopping a girl in the hallway. "I'm sorry, Lily, but I've gotta ask her about her potions exam." I said my goodbye's quickly, thankful for the excuse, and rushed to the sixth year. "Did you do well? I remember you telling me about it when I dropped the cookies off."

#remus lupin story #remus lupin #remus #lupin #professor remus lupin #professor remus #professor lupin #harry potter #james potter #sirius black #sirius #james #potter #black #lily potter #lily evans

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makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 271: My Hero Tokodemia

Previously on BnHA: Mic was all “goodbye X-Less don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and just LEFT him with Tomura, like. ???! X-Less was all “I’m gonna sit here and do nothing and wait to die.” Ujiko was all “this has nothing to do with ANYTHING but I just want you to know that I conspired to murder your husband 15 years ago and ended up killing his best friend instead!” Tomura was all “what up bitches I’m in this chapter too” and had trippy dreams about hands and buildings and his family was there and also All for One (the dude)! Because guess what, Tomura has All For One (the quirk) now! Because AFO gave it to him! So yeah! And now he’s waking up, and Deku can apparently feel it happening because he’s a horcrux probably, and so basically everything is FINALLY GOING TO SHIT AND IT’S ABOUT TIME BUT ALSO AHHHHH.

Today on BnHA: SHIGARAKI WHO TOMURA WHAT. Back to Gunga Mountain! So Dabi is all “you do know your beloved mentor just killed a guy right?” and Toko is all “!!” and Dabi is all “SO THAT MAKES HIM THE WORST CRIMINAL OF ALL!” and, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF IRONY, IMMEDIATELY follows up this bold statement by TRYING TO BURN A CHILD ALIVE. Anyway so this is why Dabi wasn’t the keynote speaker at the “murder is bad” convention though. So most of the chapter is like this, with Dabi (albeit somewhat halfheartedly) trying to set Toko on fire while Toko desperately tries to keep between him and Hawks. Eventually though, Dabi is confusingly thwarted by Otter Pops, making his triumphant return and spraying a bunch of ice just every which way because things weren’t chaotic enough I guess! And then the chapter ends with everyone’s favorite Guy They Hoped Wouldn’t Be Waking Up In This Arc, Gigantomachia, waking up!! :’) :’) :’) etc you get it.

okay so I am please to clarify that the spoilers I received were not actually all that big of a deal, and that pretty much all I know is that we’re cutting back to Dabi and Tokoyami probably, and there’s a good chance we might not even see Tomura at all this chapter in spite of last week’s cliffhanger. so even if I’d have preferred not to know that up front, it’s all good! though I will say Horikoshi has a real knack for cutting away from things right when you’re at your most invested though. reminds me of what it was like reading Lord of the Rings for the first time. “nooo I don’t want to cut back to Frodo -- WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON -- NO I DON’T WANT TO CUT BACK TO MERRY AND PIPPIN DAMMIT -- WAIT WHAT”

anyways! lol guys guess what

so then! those spoilers did indeed have the ring of truth! well this should be interesting

lmao he’s forcibly clawing his way out of Fat’s belly via aggressive use of Dark Shadow oh damn

oh man you guys. time to catalog some feels

Fatgum you do realize you were in the running for #2 hero but have now bled serious points by letting a child run back into danger and doing absolutely nothing to stop him! although to be fair you do have other children to protect, and this one child also should not have been able to do what he just did! and also Child Endangerment is U.A.’s unofficial motto and you didn’t even go to U.A. but you would fit right in though let me tell you. but anyway so the point is this isn’t really anything new, but still

HIS BODY JUST MOVED BEFORE HE COULD THINK ahhhh Toko. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT!! THE MY HERO TOKODEMIA ARC BEGINS NOW

I hope we get a followup panel of Kaminari freaking out and trying to go after his pal (but not actually succeeding though, because I swear to god Fatgum, if you fuck this up again all of my remaining goodwill is just gonna fly right out the window. and it’s a lot of goodwill too! but we don’t screw around when it comes to children’s safety!!). just would be a nice touch! ah well if they don’t show it I’ll just headcanon it

last but not least, it’s also worth noting that while I love how brave and selfless and concerned for his mentor’s wellbeing Tokoyami is here, this was still an incredibly stupid move on his part! least of all because he actually had no idea that Hawks truly was in danger. is it weird to say he lucked out? “you’re so fortunate your teacher actually was being burned alive you reckless little goose!” but like, you know what I mean though right

anyway

-- oh they are showing it!!

YAY HE IS A GOOD BOY. THAT IS ALL. CARRY ON

Toko’s shouting over his shoulder that Hawks is “probably” in trouble. for fuck’s

I mean yeah, it’s probably just some gut instinct which funnily enough happens to be absolutely right. but I’m sorry you guys, there’s just this small part of me that just can’t get over the fact that he briefly saw Hawks flying for all of .2 seconds, and saw some flames, and just IMMEDIATELY leapt to the worst-case-scenario conclusion. you know what this is? it’s the decision-making process of a kid who is actually WAY more powerful than we’ve been giving him credit for. enough so that his self-preservation instincts don’t even kick in at all because it doesn’t even occur to him how dangerous of a move this is. goddammit Tokoyami. you kids think you’re all grown up now and ffff just please be safe

and okay, I’ll give Fatgum some benefit of the doubt for just letting that happen because apparently this is literally the first and only time

seems he didn’t even think it was possible up until now. so that’s fair

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT FATGUM YOU ARE REDEEMED

THAT’S RIGHT!! YOU DON’T JUST UP AND LEAVE THE FATAXI WHENEVER YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT. FARE DODGERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW!!

so he’s immediately following after him, but is smart enough not to put the other kids in danger! good split-second decision-making there. certain other people in this chapter could take notes! and of course my one fear now though is that the other three children will not listen to him at all, but you know what, let’s deal with one thing at a time

hmmm

dammit Horikoshi, what...?? you really like to toe the lines of what is and isn’t problematic huh? literally if you wanted to go for a cool barbarian look all you had to do was stick with the same kind of costume scheme you had going in the second and fourth popularity polls. but no, you had to go and give him a fucking war bonnet. was that one guy back in the Hero Killer arc not enough. at least this is only a cover page, sigh

also I see that Tokoyami was asked to name his own feature chapter. I’m just happy that he’s happy

would you fucking look at this

first of all, why is Dabi suddenly twenty feet away from them. and second, would you just look at how ridiculously intact Hawks fucking is. Dabi really was microwaving him on the defrost setting only huh

so now everyone’s just looking at each other. sizin’ each other up and stuff

yeah no shit it’s bad. you rushed in thinking you could somehow handle a situation which had even the second strongest guy on the ropes. and handle it alone, no less. lord help me why are the bravest ones also always the most stupid

EEP

HIS WINGS??? also his fucking BACK jesus christ. meaning he’s completely immobile for now at best, and probably soon to be in critical condition and going into shock if he isn’t already. okay so maybe it wasn’t just the defrost setting, fuck. Hawkssss 8|

oh???????

holy shit. an opportunity to actually find out how much of a bastard Dabi actually is?? we of course know he had no problem whatsoever with kidnapping a kid back in the day. but would he go so far as to seriously fight and/or try to kill one? a kid who’s no older than your little brother?? oh gosh oh golly oh intrigue

I literally have not made up my mind on Dabi redemption one way or the other, just to be clear (he’s just been too mysterious up till now and I feel like I don’t know enough), so I am super curious to see how this plays out so I can finally form an opinion!

OH SNAP

SCORE ONE FOR “HE MAY BE AN A-HOLE, BUT HE’S NOT, AND I QUOTE, 100% A DICK”? MAYBE?? but on the other hand he’s definitely not just gonna let Hawks go either so ahhhh???

(ETA: so it seems we’ve arrived at a solid “mildly bastardish!” idk. it definitely seems to me like he’s trying not to murder this teenager for no good reason. ironically he’s in much the same position here that Hawks was less than a dozen chapters ago; facing against someone who’s just trying to protect his friend, and trying to talk him down at first, but then attacking once it’s clear that he’s not going to back off. ah well. still as morally gray as ever.)

ah I see, we’re gonna start by shattering his naive illusions!

(ETA: fucking christ, the scan is so dark I didn’t even notice Twice’s charred corpse just LYING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND the first time I read this. and now that I have noticed it, I would just like to say, sincerely, what the fuck.)

welp, there it is. finally the kids are getting properly involved in this arc, and AS EXPECTED, they are promptly being traumatized. oh Toko ;_;

Dabi this speech you’re making would feel more original if literal scores of tumblrs hadn’t spent the last two months exhaustively analyzing every single last possible angle of this debate lol. everyone has already made up their minds on the “is Hawks worth saving” controversy one way or the other but okay sure, go ahead and throw your hat into the ring too

lmao whaaaaaaat. “as a last resort, after his attempts to take him peacefully were thwarted, Hawks killed a man so as to prevent that man from killing countless others during our coup to take over the country because our boss wants to destroy everything. clearly, Hawks is the worst out of everyone else involved in this equation!” now that! is a take! lol

OH NO OH GOD

“PEW PEW PEW ENJOY THOSE FEELS” HORIKOSHI WHOOPS WHILE SHOOTING LASER GUN FINGERS AT ME, AND HEY, NOW

HEY, I SAID!!!

WHAT THE FUCK -- WHAT EVEN IS THE FUCKING SCREENPLAY FOR THIS THING?? “A BARELY-CONSCIOUS HAWKS MURMURS HIS STUDENT’S NAME WITH AN ACHINGLY WEARY LOOK OF SHAME AND REGRET! AS DABI LOOKS ON, TOKOYAMI GENTLY LIFTS HIS FALLEN MASTER AND WRAPS HIS CAPE AROUND HIS BACK, LOOKING OVERWHELMED, BUT DETERMINED. TOKOYAMI: I’M JUST... CONCERNED FOR MY TEACHER.” who the fuck wrote this shit and how much pleasure were they taking in ripping my heart out and violently slamming it against the wall

sob, and unfortunately Dabi doesn’t look particularly moved himself by any of this

DAMMIT DABI PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. GO AWAY AND HAVE YOUR REVENGE SOME OTHER DAY GODDAMMIT

DABI!!

Dabi I swear to god!! if you seriously try and burn my gothbird son I will...

DABI WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY. LEAVE THE KID ALONE

Tokoyami... sweetie...

IF ONLY YOU COULD JUST. fly back out?? the exact same way you came??? if only that was a thing you could do??? or can he not fly while he’s carrying another person, maybe? dammit I forget

wait what?? is he implying that Dabi isn’t seriously trying to kill them yet? is that what this is? I should just read on since this is clearly only the first part of something longer that he’s saying and I have to stop this bad habit of trying to analyze half a sentence before I go on and read the rest of the sentence

well whatever it is, he’s absolutely right; Dabi as it turns out is still standing there 25 feet away like a social distance champ, monologuing from afar

this panel gets more hilarious to me the longer I stare at it you guys. someone please make a comic where Hawks is all “he’s still talking...” and Toko looks to see Dabi RAMBLING ON and slowly inches further and further away while Dabi completely fails to take any notice lmao

so Tokoyami is just staring back, and then suddenly he’s all “orders from Hawks!” which I think is just him asking Hawks what to do now??

and fucking look at this lol

“just slowly inch away while he’s monologuing. I just found out he’s secretly a Todoroki so now I know his weakness: he will literally drop dead before he ever stops being dramatic”

OH MY GOD

ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS ISN’T A JOKE AND THAT’S HIS ACTUAL WEAKNESS LMAO. HAVE WE CROSSED PLANES INTO SOME KIND OF SATIRICAL REALITY. WHAT IS HAPPENING

LMAO OKAY NO HAWKS IS SAYING THAT DABI IS JUST BULLSHITTING THEM BECAUSE HE’S USED UP ALL HIS FLAMES OR SOME SHIT. LOL OKAY THEN. ALL I HEARD WAS “HE WASN’T ABLE TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE HE NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP.” WHERE IS THE LIE

OH SNAP THERE HE GOES

he is running away in the background, right?? Dark Shadow is just a distraction? you better not be seriously trying to fight him oh god please be smart about this

okay yes good!!

bringing back some unpleasant memories of the last guy who took a tumble off this balcony, but whatever! I’m sure he’s got some kind of plan in mind here

yep okay so he’s using Dark Shadow as a bungee cord

Hawks is so fucking short he somehow looks the same size as this little bird hobbit who’s carrying him. this is just a battle of tiny, tiny people

OH MY GOD FUCKING OUCH OH GEEZ

I FELT THAT OH MY GOD

AND OF FUCKING COURSE THAT KO’D HAWKS FOR GOOD, BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS A FUCKING BACK, AND HE JUST TARZANED OFF A BALCONY AND TOKOYAMI LANDED RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM JESUS CHRIST. R.I.P.

TOKO IS ALL “HE MUST HAVE BLACKED OUT FROM THE IMPACT JUST NOW” AND YEAH, YOU THINK?? WOULDN’T YOU?? FUCK

OH MY GOD HE’S PICKING HIM UP AND HE’S SO FUCKING TINY OH GOD OH JESUS

STOP BEING DRAMATIC AND JUST CARRY HIM OUT OF THERE ALREADY CAN WE GET A MOVE ON PLEASE? YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD BUDDY AND I’M SO PROUD, BUT ALSO THE REST OF THE LEAGUE IS STILL OUT THERE AND NOTHING IS SAFE AND AHHHH

-- AND ALSO THIS GUY STILL!!

no doubt. no doubt whatsoever the blood that runs through those veins. the theatrics are more of a dna marker than the flame quirk could ever be

also!! ARE WE SURE HAWKS IS ACTUALLY TWENTY-THREE?? COULDN’T THE HPSC HAVE FORGED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE?? THIS IS A BABY PROVE ME WRONG??

anyway so since Dabi is now saying “joke’s on you, I can still use my flames whenever the fuck I want,” I’m going to take this as confirmation that he really was keeping his distance just so he could utilize forced perspective. I’m going to make a post about this as soon as I’m done reading lol

HORIKOSHI WILL YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE ENDLESS CLOSE-UPS OF A FRIGHTENED TOKOYAMI CLINGING TO HIS UNCONSCIOUS MENTOR SCARED BUT READY TO PROTECT HIM WITH HIS LIFE I REALLY CAN’T???

DABI’S REALLY OUT HERE TRYING TO BURN THESE LITTLE BABY CHICKS ALIVE. WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING CHILL MY DUDE

OH MY GOD

SOME KIND OF CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED AHHHH WHO

AHHH MT. LADY?!

(ETA: ngl, I’m still not sure how I feel about this sequence of panels but I did laugh good and hard though.)

-- holy shit that was ice??! oh lord don’t tell me

yeppp, looks like it’s our old buddy Dairy Queen back at it again

look... Geten?? is it?? nothing against you personally. but I have a deep-seeded and enduring dislike of everyone from the Meta Liberation Army still and that includes you pal

that being said, did you inadvertently save Tokoyami’s life, though? I originally thought those were just ~anime shockwaves~ from some off-screen attack, but if that was all actually ice, it looks like you might have cut Dabi off. which I approve of! but also that’s some serious friendly fire you tomfool

so he’s yelling that he’s disrupted the heroes’ siege, which it looks like he has! very sloppily, but still

and also, way to have both of your fire users currently 80km away, hero team! you knew Geten was here, no?? who even planned this

now this Bleach-looking dude is sneaking up on Gang Orca with what looks to be a hole-punching quirk which is freaking me out a bit ngl

Gang please take him out with your famous yeet as soon as possible, I don’t know if I can handle a prolonged fight against this particular quirk

YES TOKO GET THE FUCK OUT!!!

there is no fucking way this kid is anywhere near his twenties incidentally I might add. none at all. we’ve been had

NO STOP FEELS

HE’S CRYING JESUS CHRIST HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HIS TEACHER IS HURT AND DYING MAYBE AND THE VILLAIN SAID HE KILLED SOMEONE AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, HE STILL WANTS TO PROTECT HIM AND HE’S JUST A BABY TOO?! IT’S TOO MUCH??

AND I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SURPRISED OR SHOCKED BY ANY OF THIS AT ALL?? LISTEN UP EVERYONE, YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND INSIDE OF THIS BAG IN THE FRIDGE WHICH WAS LABELED “CHILD SOLDIERS LIFE-OR-DEATH BATTLE ARC.” THE CONTENTS OF THIS BAG... MAY SHOCK YOU

lmao yeah but GUESS WHAT! I’M STILL GONNA GET ALL WORKED UP OVER IT AND I’M EVEN GONNA LIKE IT! but also. my babiesss

oh for fuck’s sake this guy still??

okay so I’ve already scrolled down enough to see the very top of the last page after this, and I’m pretty sure that’s Gigantomachia’s hair lol. please don’t tell me the radio is still on and he heard Tomura’s voice oh fiddlefucks

YEP

:’)

welp. strap yourselves in, chums. 19 chapters in, and this arc is only just beginning

#bnha 271 #tokoyami fumikage #dabi #hawks (bnha)#fatgum #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #god this took forever to edit #and it's still a mess #long story short TOKOYAMI AND HAWKS #PROTECT THEM

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hawkinslibrary · 4 years ago

Note

What do u think about the new filming pics of natalia, gaten, and sadie? 😶

i’m gonna try putting this under a read more but if that doesn’t work please stop reading if you don’t want any kind of spoilers !! i’ll be using my spoiler tags, too, so remember to blacklist/filter out ‘s4′, ‘st4’, and the ‘spoilers’ tags !!

seriously -- this goes in depth about set pics, audition videos, and theories.

i’m so sorry this is so incredibly long lmao. i’m just sitting on all this s4 stuff and i want to talk about it.

bottom line, i’m excited. i’m just happy to see that they’re filming again tbh, and i hope that they’ll be staying as safe and healthy as possible and that there won’t be any more major delays.

as for the content, i’m pretty happy about that, too. i love all of these characters and dynamics pretty equally, so any content with any of them is great to me. i think there was also a pic of priah on set that day, too, but it was far away and you couldn’t really see her that well. ultimately, it seems like there will be a lot of s1 and s2 vibes with the whole school setting, as a large part of the main cast will be together at hawkins high instead of off doing their own things during the summer.

i know a ton of people want a winter season, but i personally think it’ll be spring and i think nancy’s outfit in particular kinda points in that direction. plus, i don’t think they’d skip past nancy, robin, and jonathan’s senior year or the party’s first year of high school/el’s potential first year of school ever. they could do fall again and start right where we left off in s3 with the 3 month time jump, or they could do flashbacks to the holidays and time we’ll be missing. but i think the bulk of the season will be set in spring. spring has easter, easter = resurrection, david keeps referring to hopper being alive as a resurrection, strangerwriters twitter specifically brought up making easter jokes with hopper’s name, etc.

i have to bring up the s4 audition tapes that surfaced a while ago. i know they’re a controversial topic (are they real? should we put any thought into them? do they actually reflect any part of s4 at all? why would these be open to the public if they’re legit? etc., etc.), but for this ask and for the part of me that’s grasping onto like... any potential s4 info, i’m gonna be looking at them as if they’re real.

this one is for ‘warden hatch’, who is the head of a psychiatric hospital. now, we know pennhurst is gonna be in s4. we know natalia filmed there before production shut down. people said maya was also on set that day. the scenes in this audition have him talking to two girls who happen to be very smart and have a taste for investigating. they’re obviously lying about being in college (or, at least, at that particular college with that particular professor), so i think it counts as confirmation that the two of them are still in high school, or at the very least working around hawkins. i just can’t see why nancy would be at hawkins high if she wasn’t still a student.

this one is for ‘eddie’, the ‘80s metalhead who is into metallica, loves d&d, and is a potential ally. he’s also apparently a drug dealer. so. his audition mentions hellfire a lot. ‘the hellfire club’ is the name of the first episode of s4. and now we have a picture of gaten on set in a shirt that says ‘hellfire club’. at the end of s3, in the news report, they allude to dungeons and dragons being linked to satanism. it seems like this is something the hellfire club (apparently, a club for lovers of d&d) will be dealing with. there’s also a present rivalry of ‘jocks v. nerds’ with the club and the basketball team, which we know will also play a part in s4. in the audition, ‘eddie’ is talking to ‘paul’ (”you were wearing your weird al shirt”) and ‘curtis’ (”you were wearing whatever shit your mom got you from the goddamned gap”), who are... obviously dustin and mike. they tell him that ‘fred’ (lucas) will be missing the club meeting because he has to play basketball.

which brings us to ‘jason’ and the most uh... obvious? of the audition tapes. this is a scene from a pep rally for a championship basketball game, where ‘jason’ literally name drops heather, billy, and hopper, who all “perished in that fire” (aka the cover up for the battle of starcourt). now, ‘jason’ is dating ‘molly’, a cheerleader who goes to ‘eddie’ to buy drugs (which i think is the second scene included in ‘eddie’s’ audition above). this second ‘jason’ audition has the pep rally scene as well as a scene where ‘jason’ tells the basketball team they need to hunt down the ‘freaks’ in the hellfire club (but especially ‘eddie’) because something happened to ‘molly’ and he blames them (bc of the whole drugs and satanists thing). one of the basketball players speaks up to tell him that they aren’t satanists, it’s just a d&d club. i believe this basketball player is lucas (”and how exactly is it you know all that?” “my sister, she’s like.. a total nerd. she plays sometimes.”) and the basketball team/jason have no idea that he’s affiliated with the hellfire club.

so there are a few different situations which could lead up to the scene in the pictures with dustin and max, but there’s one more audition i need to talk about first. this isn’t the full audition because the original was deleted, but mrs. kelley is the new guidance counselor at hawkins high. her audition video seems to be a scene where she’s talking to a student about their home life and their grades. the situation in the scene is very reminiscent of max’s current situation and i think the full scene even mentioned the loss of a brother or something ? so, one parent is drinking and having to work two jobs after one asshole stepparent leaves, but things are still better with them gone. i think max might be retreating a little, pulling away from the party. in fact, i think both physical and emotional distance is going to be a theme in s4. like, not only is everyone in different places, but they’re going to be drifting into new situations with new people and new interests and all these new personal conflicts, i guess.

so, if we’re operating under the assumption that the audition vids are legit, maybe the scene is after the pep rally and dustin is checking up on max. she’s been hit pretty hard by billy’s death bc despite everything, despite how messed up and complicated everything was, he’s still been right there with her for years and she had to watch him die brutally. maybe she doesn’t want to think about it and maybe when ‘jason’ mentions his loss, it brings everything to the surface. or, maybe the scene is after the hellfire club meeting. dustin could be asking if she’s seen lucas or if she wants to be his replacement at the meeting. whatever it is, it doesn’t look like it ends on a very positive note.

uhhhhh in conclusion, nancy’s outfit suggests a spring season, she should still be in school along with robin, dustin is a part of the hellfire club, max is emo, and i’m very excited and happy.

#you literally just asked what i thought of some pictures i am so embarrassing #thank you for the question though !! 💖#answered #Anonymous #s4 #st4 #spoilers

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Belamour - Chapter Five (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing, murder plot ig

wc; 8.7k

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The second that you walk into the apartment, you’re surprised to see that the place is entirely clear, except for the avoxes that stand off to the side. There’s not even a note left behind. You find yourself grateful that you aren’t being bombarded with questions right as you walk in.

Finnick is, of course, nowhere to be seen. Assuming that he’s in his room like he normally is after long days, you head straight to your room, dreaming of a cold shower and a moment alone to your thoughts. After what happened this morning, you think you’re in need of a good moment alone to your thoughts.

The second you step in, you see that Finnick is sitting in front of your window. You know Finnick said that you have a good view and all, but that doesn’t mean that he has to come in uninvited, especially when you’re not here. You don’t say anything, and he barely acknowledges your presence.

He watches you disappear into the closet, and you don’t peek your head out once to get a look at him. Instead, you gather your clothes for after the shower. When you step out of the closet, Finnick is now turned to you, legs straight in front of him.

“Are you still going with the careers?” he asks.

The entire wording of the sentence makes you bite the inside of your cheek, staring right at him. He can’t be serious, right? But the longer that he stares, without saying a single word and not laughing once, makes you boil.

“That was the original plan, wasn’t it?” you ask sourly, throwing your clothes onto the freshly-made bed. Your right hand forms into a fist, and you place it on your hip, “That was our original plan.”

“It was, you’re right. But I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“I know, and I knew days ago. I’m not stupid, Finnick. In fact, I’m a whole lot smarter than you think.” when his eyes drift to the window, clearly not wanting a lecture, “Your alliance is going to get you killed.” you snap, watching his eyes find you again, “But you don’t know that, because you’re too caught up in making best friends with people that are going to die.”

“You don’t know that.” he says back.

“You’re accepting defeat.” you gather your clothes in your arms again. You don’t need him around you, not with that mindset. If he accepts the fact that he’s okay with dying and letting his friends win, then that’s his problem, “You’re a sinking ship.”

“No, you are.” he says, and you turn your back to him, “What would your brothers say?”

“They’d say to do whatever it takes to come back alive. If that means teaming up with the people that’ll carry me for most of the games, then so-fucking-be it.” when you look at him again, he’s halfway to the door.

“No, they wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Finnick!” you shout, slamming your hand into the wall on your way out of the bathroom, “You’ve talked to me for years and it’s like you’ve learned nothing. They told me I can win. And I can, and the process will be a whole lot fucking easier without you in the picture.”

His eyebrows push in, mouth opening, but you finish, “So yeah, I’m with the careers, and I fit in just fine. Get the hell out of my room and stay on your side of the hallway.”

You watch to make sure he leaves, and then for good measure, you lock the doors shut. Your shower is cold, and it feels even colder after what had just happened. You sit on the floor, forehead on your knees as you close your eyes. Your body begins to cool down, no longer feeling so warm.

You’d really wanted to come in here to think about this morning, worried about the nightmare resurfacing only days before the games. It’s recurring, and typically happens when you’re about to enter a part of your life that you’ll never be able to go back and change.

The first time that really happened was when your mom died giving birth to Alyssum. You went from having her around in the house after school, to her being gone completely. She was replaced by a baby that you loathed for months, until you realized that she wouldn’t be so bad once she got older.

There was a tension between you and your brothers even before your dad died. When he did, it broke it entirely. All of you were broken, and you buried a casket without a body. It was a fishing accident, a handful of fishermen had died. No bodies recovered, the boat was never found. One day you had a parent, and the next you didn’t.

The recurring nightmare is normally drowning out at sea. The boat malfunctions and sinks, and you swim for as long as possible, sometimes trying to get back to land. But it’s always too far away and you never seem to find it. In fact, you’re turned around most of the time. So, you could be swimming away or parallel to the land and you’d never know.

You’re a fantastic swimmer, it’s the worry of getting tired and giving up, slowly sinking into the deep blue depths. You run out of air and will to swim, limbs becoming heavy. By the time you take in your first breath of water, you always seem to realize that you don’t want to die. But it’s impossible to swim back up to the top. You drown every single time.

It’s exhausting. There’s some point where you always recognize that it’s a nightmare but can’t wake yourself from it. You have to go through with drowning, and wake up with puddles of sweat on your sheets. Normally after them back home, you won’t bother with a shower or bath. Instead, you’ll go out and do some mind-numbing task that you’d never do willingly. Like fold the laundry or do the dishes.

You scrub your skin free of all the grime of today, and when you’re dressed you go ahead and lay onto the bed, back turned towards the window because of the sunlight. It takes a long moment before fatigue finally drags you under, and when it does you’re so incredibly grateful.

Anchor is the one to come and wake you up this time. He tells you that dinner is ready, and that Laurel and Pleurisy are here so don’t be shocked. You thank him, and when he leaves the room, you go straight to the bathroom to fix your messy hair. After trying to brush through it, you give up halfway through and pull it up.

At the table sits everyone but Mags and Finnick. You pick the seat furthest from the two open spots, and slowly but surely, the others settle in, leaving two open spaces. You pick at the lamb stew and rice, not too hungry because you just woke up. Mostly, you listen to the conversation between Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy, until they all turn they all turn their attention to you.

“How was the session?” Anchor asks, he’s playing around with red wine, you think, “We couldn’t ask earlier.”

Your eyes move to the hallway, you see no shadows, “I don’t want to give it away if he’s listening.”

“He’s not, I promise.” Elysia says.

You take a deep breath, stirring the soup, “Well, I had their full attention the entire time. They kinda laughed at me when I stopped in front of the knife throwing because of how bad I was yesterday.”

Elysia gasps your name, and Anchor seems disappointed too. This is exactly the same reaction that the gamemakers had earlier. Until they saw you throwing the knives, the room went entirely quiet and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears and your quick breaths. It was entirely satisfying to leave them speechless like that.

“But out of the nine knives I threw at the dummy, I only missed two, above the shoulder and between the legs.” you twirl the spoon handle between your fingers, “I got a few vital places, that’s all that matters. I was mostly focused on the legs towards the end because that’ll hinder running away.”

Laurel’s got a smile on her face, “Is that it?”

“No, I used the tenth knife on the spear throw and I still nailed the middle. It had to be at least fifty feet or more.”

“That was smart.” Anchor says, “To keep that as your skill.”

“Really, it was my first time throwing. I’m surprised I didn’t miss more.”

Before they can ask anymore questions, a door is opening and Mags appears in the hallway first with a quiet Finnick trailing behind. Automatically, the mood seems to sour. When they try to drill Finnick next, he shuts them down immediately, making it all the more worse. You think it’s clear to them now that you and him aren’t getting along. It was a matter of time.

After dinner, you’re brought to the living room where you sit next to the arm on the right side. Anchor sits to your left, yawning and eventually leaning on his elbows on his knees. Mags and Finnick sit together on the other side, talking about something. And Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy share their own couch, talking excitedly.

Then, Caesar Flickerman comes across the screen with a wide smile, saying that it’s time to get started. Naturally, it starts with District One, boys first. They’ll pull up a picture of the tribute, and have the numbers flash beneath. You watch as Lennox and Trink both get ten’s.

With Allio, he gets a nine, and Eytelle manages an eight. It’s typical for the careers to get anywhere from between eight to ten. So, Eytelle isn’t that far off but she’s teetering on the edge. You’d say it’s a way to make people underestimate her, so that they think she’s useless and therefore won’t be as worried about her, but the careers don’t work like that.

They want people to be worried, they want the sponsors to have their eyes on them. She just did something wrong inside of the session, and you can imagine that she’s not exactly happy right now. The next time you see her, she’ll probably talk about it.

Blaire scores an eight, Verda a six. The only reason why Blaire’s number is so high is probably because of the hand to hand he did on the second day. That was the only time you really saw him do anything physical, and he likely did that again inside of the private session. Verda isn’t much of a surprise, she’s small and pretty weak.

Then up comes Finnick, scoring an nine. There’s cheers for him, shaking his shoulder and congratulating him. The only reason why it’s impressive with him, is because of his age. It’s expected of the both of you, though. You’re District Four, not District Eight or whatever.

Your face appears on the screen, and you hold your breath. Heart pounding in your chest, you beg for anything above an eight. Something that’ll impress the sponsors, your career friends and everyone back home. Show them that you’ve learned something while you were here. Prove to your brother’s that you’ve got a fighting chance.

Below your picture flashes a ten.

You let out all the air you were holding in. The whole room seems to explode with excitement, feeling your shoulders shake, praise falling upon you. You guess it was for a number of things, the spear, the climbing, the hand to hand and the knives. All of those things combined did something to them.

You’re allowed to leave the living room. You give Laurel a hug and she assures you that tomorrow you’ll be beautiful and looking like you deserve a ten. Before you can actually leave, your arm is grabbed by Anchor, holding you back until Finnick has left entirely, and then turns you to him and Mags.

“You and him aren’t allies anymore, what happened?” Anchor asks.

It’s just the three of you here, and hopefully Finnick isn’t eavesdropping.

“I thought we had a plan with the careers, and I guess I was wrong. He changed his mind and never told me. I saw the people he was trying to be allies with, saw what he was trying to do, and decided that I’d rather go on my own. And I told him that earlier, after the session.”

Anchor nods, letting you go and looking over to Mags, “This is going to sway the citizens.”

“They still think they’re allies.” Mags agrees.

“Let it be a surprise, then.” you say, pulling on your fingers, “They all like a good plot twist, right?”

They don’t have a chance to say anything else, because you’re heading back to your room. You change into pajamas, steal a bowl of ice cream from the food station in the corner, and curl up by the window. You’re not all that tired because of the nap you took earlier. So, you’ll sit here and fantasize about being back home instead.

Your brothers and sister were probably gathered in a house with Naida’s family. Calandra probably brought sweets from the sweet shop in preparation of a high score. Even if you did score low, they’d eat it anyway. But you can imagine that they’re all thrilled right now, with some guilt mixed in too.

You’re only fifteen. So young to be scoring so high. And you’re about to be losing that precious innocence that you’ve been preserving for so long. Actually, you thought you’d get longer. That either you wouldn’t get chosen at all, or you would have been older and more knowledgeable about things.

They all must be conflicted. Celebrating the dangerousness of a fifteen year old child. Caspian is probably cracking jokes about it, much to Naida’s chagrin but Reed’s finding it funny anyway. It’s lightening the mood, and they all nibble on the sugar and try to ease the anxiousness in their bellies.

If they’re nervous, you can’t imagine how you’re feeling. You have tomorrow, the interview night, and then the morning of the games. Two and a half days before you’re inside of the arena.

After you finish the first bowl of ice cream, you go ahead and get a second one. There’s no point in worrying about a sugar rush. The higher you are, the better the crash will be and hopefully it’ll happen soon. You don’t want to stay up too late, but going to bed now will just mean you’ll be laying there for a while.

You hope that the score will ease their worries for one night and they’ll sleep soundly. One full night of sleep with no nightmares. Something that you’d like too.

When you’re done, you set the bowls together in a neat pile and then brush your teeth. You curl up on the bed, facing towards the window this time. You stare out of it, blinking occasionally until your eyes grow tired. Only then do you close them, and find yourself falling asleep quickly.

You wake by yourself in the morning. A look at the clock tells you that it’s nowhere near early, it’s fairly late. It’ll be reaching the afternoon in an hour or two. You should probably get up and take a shower.

With a groan, you stretch your muscles and stiffly make your way to the closet. You pick out an outfit that will be comfortable, and then move your way back towards the bathroom. The shower is quick and warm. Not wanting to deal with your hair in your face all day, you pull it out of your face once it’s semi-dry.

At the table, there’s one empty spot, far away from Finnick. You sit down, watch as a sandwich is given to you, and listen to what Mags and Anchor have to say, now that you’ve appeared at the table.

“You two will be working with Elysia today.” Mags says, “(Y/n) will start.”

You look over to Elysia to see she’s got a polite smile on her face, but when the corners of her mouth twitch, you feel hesitant all of a sudden, “For how long?”

“A couple of hours.” Elysia says, “Then I’ll work with Finnick.”

After eating, you’re brought right back into your room. Elysia disappears into your closet, and when she emerges, she’s got a floor-length dress and a pair of heels in hand. As you change, you watch as she moves some chairs out, and when you’re done, she immediately gets you to work.

You both quickly found out that you’re not half bad with the heels. You’re a little wobbly on some things, but the second after she corrects you and shows you a better way, you’re not wobbling anymore. She tells you that you shouldn’t ever pull the bottom of the dress up farther than your ankles if you need to. After walking, is literally everything else.

She makes you sit up straight, has you smile on almost anything you say. If you were to make hand gestures, they have to be gentle and lady-like. And then she has you doing a series of sentences that are so drilled into your head that you’re sure it’ll be hard not to use them during the actual interview.

“How did I do?” you ask the end of the session.

“Better than the girl tribute last year.” she rubs your back on the way out of the room, “If you remember all of that tomorrow, you’ll win over sponsors just with your smile.”

You’re traded for Finnick, leaving you with your mentors. You have a small snack before sitting down in the living room with the two of them. You cross your legs, feeling the ache in your feet after walking in the shoes so much earlier. By tomorrow, the feeling will be gone. But for now it hurts.

They stare at you for a long moment, until Anchor snaps his fingers, “Sweet.”

“Sweet?” you ask.

Mags has a smile on her face, nodding in agreement, “Yes, that’ll work.”

“Sweet.” Anchor confirms.

You feel stupid, “Like, kind and nice?”

“Exactly that.” Anchor says, “You’ve already had that air since the tribute parade, it’ll be easy to play on.”

“What about my score?”

Mags has the answer this time around, taking a seat in a long armchair, “Mysterious.”

You hum, it can work. You can make it work.

With the interviews, tributes tend to play up a certain act. Cunning, mysterious, stern, dangerous, sweet, sexy, stupid, decieving, the possibilites are endless. It’s not a surprise that this is what they’re doing, finding an adjective that will fit you, and then demanding you to play that role.

Sweet is easy. As long as you don’t over-sell it, no one will suspect a thing. And Caesar can’t ask you why you got the score you earned, he can allude to it, though. That’s where the mysteriousness can come in. You can change the subject and make sure you leave everyone on the edge of their seat.

“Easy peasy.” you tell them, they look pleased with your compliance. It makes you wonder if Finnick was a nuisance, “So, what now?”

“Mags will ask you questions, and I’ll pretend to be the audience.”

The questions that Mags ends up asking, reminds you of all the years before. All those other interviews of hundreds of now-dead tributes. She’s definitely reusing some, and making some up by herself. You make sure to cross your legs, do the gentle hand motions and smile when you get the opportunity.

You give up information about back home, you know that’ll capture some of the audience’s heart. It always seems to scoop them up, you have family back home and they’re waiting for you. They’ll be at the train station with open arms and tears in their eyes. When you say this, Anchor’s got a wide smile on his face and encourages you to keep going.

You don’t push your luck. Mags then asks the golden question about how you, a fifteen year old, could have scored so highly. And you smoothly and slyly answer the question without really answering it, “Yes, it was a surprise to me too. I’m sure my family back home is excited.”

After the first round of questions is an intermission. “Very good,” they tell you, “now try complimenting the Capitol.” and so you do your best to try and make the Capitol admirable. But it’s hard, and it’s definitely a weakness. The entire time your mind keeps going back to that magazine on the train, and you struggle to not use the titles of the sections directly.

They see that this is hard for you, and instead suggest to keep it all vague. Mags starts again, and you’re doing much better this time around. By the time you’re done, you’ve got a headache, and your thighs hurt from all the chaffing of switching back and forth on your crossed legs.

At dinner, you eat a lot, enjoy the chocolate lava cake that’s served, and even get seconds while requesting ice cream. An idea pops in your head then. Since you’ve grown so comfortable, what would the harm be in trying to align yourself with the Capitol? When you ask your mentors this, they tell you that it’s a good approach, but will be hard with what you’re supposed to be doing.

Nonetheless, you note this and call it a night. You fall asleep easily, feeling exhausted after the day’s work.

When you wake, it’s because Cleo is ringing some annoying bell in her hand. Once she realizes that your eyes are open, she gives you an innocent smile and orders you out of bed. Today is the interview, and you need to get to it.

They shower you, pressing buttons that you’ve never considered before. Once your hair is like silk and your body is sore again, they pull you out. They lather you with the lotion, dry your hair and get to work. Laurel is nowhere to be seen, and Cleo tells you that she won’t be showing up until last minute, when you’re supposed to be wearing the dress.

You watch as they work together. Beth is sitting on the floor, holding onto your hand, applying baby blue nail polish to them. After one finger, she’ll spray something onto the nail, order you not to move it much, and then move onto the next finger. By the time she’s done with the first five and has moved onto the next, your nails are dry. She goes from your hands, to your toes.

Cleo blows bubbles of pink gum. She’ll pop it without flinching, ignoring the loud sounds that it makes. When she had first started the body spray paint, you were confused on what she was doing. Now you realize that she’s spraying on shimmery purple-blue scales here and there. A sort of mermaid effect, you guess.

Leo sits back at first, watching it all come together. Every now and then he’ll point out a spot that Cleo had missed, and she’ll go back and fix it. Soon, your nails are done and dried, no more scales are needed and they’re all heading to work on the most important part. Beth straightens your hair, and then curls the ends of it. When she sprays the hairspray it smells vaguely of vanilla and cinnamon, a smell you remember from when you first came onto the train. She pins half your hair back with a silver, wave-shaped comb. She lets a few hair strands occupy your face, but not enough to overwhelm you.

You don’t know what Leo does. For most of it, he makes you close your eyes. What he does comes in layers, until he’s eventually working at your eyes. All you know is that it has something to do with blue with the way Cleo is swooning over the color. Leo mutters something about glueing silver sparkles to the corner of your eyes to symbolize tears.

They put on fake eyelashes, and that’s the first time you’re allowed to open your eyes in thirty minutes. Before they actually let you get a look in the mirror, they cover your body in a soft glitter. Every time you move, you catch light and sparkle. One look into the mirror, and you’re instantly denying that it’s you.

They’ve accentuated a lot of aspects to your face. A sharper jawline, a slimmer nose and high cheeks. The blush makes you look childlike, but the blue makeup around your eyes with small pieces of glitter and big eyelashes completely ruins the idea. When you move your face from side to side, you can see a blue shimmer. They tell you its highlight. You’re not allowed anymore time in the mirror when Laurel arrives.

You’re not allowed to face anything reflective, so you end up in the corner of the room, facing the wall as you slip the dress on. There’s a clear difference in weight, considering you’ve been walking around in underwear for the past couple of hours. Cleo puts the shoes on for you, and when they’re done, they get to gawk at you before you get to see yourself a second time.

“Oh Laurel, she’s gorgeous.” Beth’s voice is soft, and she leans into Cleo.

“She’s going to completely sell it tonight.” Leo says, “There’s no way she won’t.”

“You’ll have them lined up around the block, (Y/n).” Cleo assures you.

“Give her the last of the accessories.” is all Laurel says.

More wave-themed jewelry. A silver necklace, a pair of earrings that look like water droplets, bracelets that are simply round or continuing the theme. And Laurel pulls out your mother’s engagement ring, slipping it onto your right ring finger.

“It’s been approved.”

In the mirror, you think you look like a princess from one of those books you read as a child. The dress is unreal, the whole experience feels unreal.

The dress is off the shoulder, a beautiful baby blue, around the same color as your nails. It relies mostly on your upper arms to stay in place, and no matter how you move, it never slips. There will be no readjusting tonight. Your collarbones are clearly out for show, but there is no cleavage. That’ll be a win for your brothers, but a loss for the sponsors.

Around the top of the dress are gems shaped like water droplets. They’re irregular in both shape and where they’re placed, making it look unpredictable. It makes you think of the days in Four where you’ll watch water droplets race down the window, always unpredictable on where and how fast they’ll go.

It’s long-sleeved but the material is mesh. It’s extremely breezy, and you know that you won’t be feeling hot on stage. It’s poofy, nowhere near skin-tight. The fabric on the top half of the dress creates wrinkles that end at the middle of the dress. More gems appear at the waist, before the bottom of it flares out. There’s a leg slit on your right leg, showing off the fake scales that don’t seem to smudge no matter how often it rubs against the material.

The inside of the dress is made up of silk, while the outside is mesh to give it volume. All together, the dress reaches just above the floor, so there won’t be any holding onto it when you move around. The heels that they had you step into are while, around the same height that Elysia had you walk around in. There’s thin, criss-crossing straps around your ankles, and they’re open toed too.

Cleo makes Leo apply highlights to your collarbones, and then all four of them circle you like a pack of vultures to try and find anything out of place. They don’t find anything, Laurel is satisfied, and you’re allowed to leave the room now. You resist the urge to play with your curled hair, and instead go for your ring.

Your team is the last to arrive at the elevator, because everyone else is standing there already. Elysia gasps and immediately launches into compliments that you accept humbly. Deciding that it’s a nice time to practice what you had learned yesterday. Even Mags and Anchor are dressed up for the occasion.

You all squeeze into the elevator, with you and Finnick promptly up front. Finnick wears a snowy white suit, with an undershirt that’s the same color as your dress. You guess that Mags and Anchor have taken the plot twist idea into consideration.

At the base floor, you’re greeted with some of the tributes already lined up against the wall, ready to get on stage. The way it works, is that you’ll all be sitting behind center stage, but still in sight of all the citizens. When it’s your turn, or your name is called, you’ll get up and join Caesar in the center. When you’re done, you go right back to where you sit.

You’re going to be on stage for a long time. You’re just glad you won’t be standing the entire time.

You line up right behind Blaire, still playing with your ring. Him and Verda turn slightly at your approach. Verda is wearing a deep green color, and Blaire is in an all-black suit. They utter out a few quiet compliments to you and Finnick, the two of you returning the gesture.

Once everyone has arrived, you’re walking towards the stage in a single-file line. Even though you were sure you wouldn’t have to bring the dress up when you walk, you were thinking about solid ground. Not actual steps. You bring the bottom of the dress up just high enough to get up, and then quickly drop it back down again.

The seats are comfortable, and the gamemakers, and Capitol citizens point and whisper among themselves, excited about how you all look. You tuck the dress beneath yourself when you sit down on the soft, comfortable bubble chair.

Staring out to the people is enough to make your heart jump in your chest. The entire place is packed, it’s like the entire population is here. For the ones who couldn’t make it, there’s cameras ready to catch every angle. People in the Capitol and districts have their tv’s on. Betters are eager to see their competitors, families anticipating the moment their member gets on stage.

Reed is probably huddled up right next to Mox and Caspian at Naida’s house. Just like the day with the training scores, they’re all together. Waiting for the moment they finally get to see you again, this time bedazzled and grown up. You look nothing like you did during the tribute parade. Then, you looked young. Now you look old.

Then, Caesar Flickerman is coming onto the stage, a white smile and a friendly wave to the crowd. This year, he’s got green all over his body. A light green suit, emerald green hair. The makeup on his face is some sort of medium between the two colors.

He warms up the audience first, and right after he’s calling up Trink. Her blonde hair is in waves over her shoulders, she wears a maroon dress that’s complemented with black and sparkles in the light. For an entire minute, she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, until the fun questions are done and Caesar’s taking a dip for a more serious air. Now, you can see the viciousness.

“I am going to win Caesar. There’s no question about it.” and then she smiles, and lets out a laugh, and the tension is automatically diminished. She made it seem fun, but it’s like a threat. She’ll kill anyone in her way.

Lennox, Eytelle and Allio are all the same way too. You start to get nervous when Verda is called up, because it’s Blaire and then it’s you. She blushes her way through her interview, but leaves a lasting impression on the audience even after she sits. Blaire makes a performance, even you’re on the edge of your seat. He’s so easygoing that it makes him look like the interviewer and Caesar the tribute.

Blaire takes a seat, and you take a deep breath. Eyes are on you now. You sit up a little higher, letting the smile naturally come to your face.

“Now onto District Four, with (Y/n) Gallows!” Caesar introduces, you carefully uncross your legs and stand from where you sit. His arm is outstretched in your direction. Every move you make towards center stage makes you feel nervous.

Three minutes starts the moment you stop in front of Caesar, shaking his hand. Your hands are surprisingly dry, even if they were wet, you wouldn’t be able to dry them off anywhere.

You take a look out to the audience. So many people to impress--no. Actually no, not a lot of people to impress. You’ve already done that with your abnormally high score. Now you just have to sell it to everyone. Sweet and mysterious. Two things that can mix if you do it just right.

Your eyes glaze over the camera. Your brothers are watching.

You can do this.

When you look at Caesar, he’s already giving you a daring look, “(Y/n), you are absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Me?” you ask, eyes widening, “Caesar, I am nothing compared to you.”

“I have to disagree. Don’t you, folks?” loud cheering follows.

You’re a little surprised that he isn’t taking the compliment. Normally with others, he takes it gratefully and ends up spinning it back to you. He’ll share the spotlight somehow. There’s a difference here. Something is different.

“I love that outfit. The running water effect is absolutely gorgeous.”

“Yes, I think so too. My stylist is very smart with her themes. She was even kind enough to incorporate my token.”

“Where?” Caesar asks, the audience seems to rile up at the thought. You hold your hand out for him to see, and he takes your hand in his delicately, turning to see the ring. Then, he shows the cameras and the audience, which projects onto a bigger screen for those who are too far away to see, “Does it hold any sort of significance?”

“Of course.”

He laughs, “Besides the fact that it represents District Four.”

“It was my mother’s engagement ring.” you begin to explain, “She wore it all the time before she died. My brother’s gave it to me as a surprise when they said goodbye. I think they were anticipating the day I’d get reaped, which is why they were holding onto it.”

Caesar looks sullen, as does the audience, “Do you think they’re watching back home?”

“I would hope so.” you laugh, he does too.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say to them?”

This is perfect. A perfect lead up to steal the hearts of everyone, and show them that you can be more than just sweet and slightly mysterious. You can be mean too, just like the other careers.

You find the nearest camera, smiling lightly at first, batting your eyelashes. You lift your chin, staring right into the lens. They better realize that this is personal, “I will come home to you. I will win for you. I miss you. I love you. And I will see you soon.”

Caesar doesn’t have a chance to say anything else, the buzzer is going off. The audience is loud, cheering and screaming. They jump to their feet, clapping and some even demanding for a little more time. Caesar pulls you in for a side-hug.

“Ladies and gentlemen, (Y/n) Gallows from District Four. Best of luck to you, (Y/n).”

“Thank you.” you smile, waving one last time to the crowd and turning right around to head back to your seat.

You’ve got the eyes of a lot of tributes. All either captivated or suddenly intimidated. Maybe they’re suddenly realizing what they’re up against. Everyone wants to get home, but you just told your family outright that you will win, after scoring a ten. You know something that the rest of them don’t.

Hopefully that’ll keep them on the edge of their seat.

Next up is Finnick, and you spend most of the time fidgeting with the ring, unfortunately not being able to tune him out. You try to get your thoughts to stir, imagining what your brother’s look like back home. But your mind is blank, and you’re forced to watch your former ally dazzle the audience.

It’s only a minute in and they’re already swooning over him. When Caesar asks if he should expect any surprises inside of the arena, you think Finnick alludes to the fact that you and him are no longer allies by saying; “Not everything is what it seems.” and then moves on before Caesar can ask.

Caesar doesn’t even skip over the fact that he’s handsome, “How many girls do you have falling over you at home?”

“More than you’d believe.” Finnick says, “Would you like me to name them?”

You realize then that his motive is casanova. There’s no other way to describe it.

Him and Caesar shake hands at the end of his interview, and Finnick sits down next to you with a smirk. Under his breath he mutters, “That’s how it’s done.” and you bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to embarrass him right now by leaving him a nice, red handmark on his cheek.

At the end of the interviews, you stand for the anthem, chin directed upward because it’s required. At the end of it, you’re all filing off the stage, starting with the first district and others following behind it. By the time you reach the lobby, it’s crowded.

Before you can even make your way over to an elevator, Trink is slithering up next to you, tucking some hair behind her ear, “Here’s our formal invitation to have you be in our alliance.”

“I accept.” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the cornucopia?”

Allio lets out a laugh, “Are we going to race?”

“I’ll easily beat all four of you, don’t even dare.” Eytelle, and suddenly a small argument breaks out between you all. Lennox tells her that just because she’s tall, doesn’t mean she runs faster.

She tries to back up her claim, but it’s too late and she’s rolling her eyes. You all have to split anyway, so you bid them goodbye and good luck, to which they do the same. The lobby has mostly cleared then, so you get onto an elevator with a couple of tributes you don’t know the names of, and get off at the first stop.

Inside of the apartment, you’re welcomed with the sight of everyone already at the table. Your mentors, the stylists, the prep teams, your fellow tribute and Elysia.

You skip up the steps, a smile on your face. You gracefully take a seat at the table, and it’s hard to make the smile go away. Not with how you were confirmed in an alliance with the deadliest tributes there is. You are golden. All your ducks have been lined up since the beginning, and now all you have to do is execute it.

When Anchor finally cracks and asks why you’re so happy, you tell them, “I have an alliance.” and let their thoughts take it from there. Dinner is loud, and animated. You listen as the prep team and the stylists talk about what they did and didn’t like on the other tributes.

You decide it’s a good time as any to bring up the fact that Caesar didn’t accept the compliment, and Elysia agrees that it was a little odd. Then, they’re moving on to how well you sold the part, and how you didn’t even need to worry about the training scores. Cleo says, “Just because he didn’t mention it, doesn’t mean that people aren’t thinking about it.” which eases worries you didn’t even know you had.

After dinner, you’re allowed to watch the interviews over again. You have to admit that everyone sells their part very well. But the second you’re bringing up your dead mom and brother’s back home, you can hear Beth hold onto her breath and Leo is eating every moment up. You did good.

You part with your mother’s engagement ring for the final time, Laurel assures you that you’ll get it back when she sees you tomorrow. Her, Pleurisy and the prep teams all leave after that. The only people left are Mags, Anchor, Elysia, you and Finnick.

Elysia won’t be seeing you in the morning, neither will your mentors. She hugs you and Finnick tightly, and you want to apologize for the glitter on her now, but she doesn’t give you a chance to. She disappears off somewhere.

“Find water.” Anchor says, “Remember the three rule.”

The three rule, yes. Something one of the experts at a survival station had taught you the first day of training. Back when you and Finnick were still sticking next to each other. You can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air.

You already know that water will be at the top of the priority list. You hope that it won’t be a struggle to find any. A while ago, the gamemakers seemed to have learned their lesson about not providing water for the tributes. They’ll all slowly die off like flies from dehydration. It doesn’t make much for a show.

“Right.” you agree, yawning.

They don’t offer much else besides luck. You carefully hang up the blue dress in the closet, and then you scrub your body in the shower. You watch as the glitter runs down the drain, as the body spray nearly stains your skin.

Your hair goes from stiff to silky smooth again. You try to take care of your hair the best you can when you step out, but you’re so tired that you give up halfway through and collapse onto the bed. With your back to the window, you can hear the distant celebration of the citizens.

You’re done with living easy. Tomorrow you fight for your life.

And your win.

In the early morning, it’s only Laurel that wakes you. She has you brush your hair and teeth, but tells you that there will be no breakfast in the apartment. You’re to be transported to the hovercraft immediately, and she’ll meet you at the arena. She hands off a yellow shirt and black pants that are similar to the outfit you wore on the first day of training.

It’s only a temporary outfit. What you’ll be wearing inside of the arena will be given to you in the catacombs below the arena. Either way, the outfit is comfortable and you have no complaints. She brings you to the roof of the Tribute Center, giving you a slight feeling of vertigo and wobbly legs.

A ladder falls from a hovercraft above. You think you’re expected to climb the entire way up, but the moment you’ve got up the first rung, you’re shocked in place. No matter how hard you try to move, you can’t. It’s a good thing. The ladder is pulled up, and no matter how hard it’s jerked, you don’t fall off.

Inside of the hovercraft, you’re fully prepared to be released, but it’s not the case. A man in a white lab coat with a syringe in his hand gives you a polite smile, “This is your tracker. It’ll only hurt for a second.”

You grit your teeth, still very frozen as he inserts the needle deep into your forearm. You can feel the metal tracking device being pushed in. If you weren’t kept in place, this would have made your toes curl and teeth break. When it’s in, you’re released and helped to your feet.

The ladder is dropped once more, and this time Laurel is helped up. Once she’s on her feet, she directs you to a backroom where breakfast is laid out. You go ahead and load up on as much as possible. This is the last real meal that they’re going to provide you with. After this, you don’t know when your next meal will be.

Once you’re sure you’re full, you go ahead and drink a lot of water, too. Laurel lets you know that the ride is going to be long. For a while, you just watch as the city flies beneath the hovercraft, and then it eventually turns to a forest. You cross your fingers under the table, hoping that they’ve got an arena in favor of District Four.

Really, it could be anything. A frozen wasteland, a dry desert, a tropical island. Forest, city ruins, an old village. Every year, it’s a new place. This arena will only be used once, and after that it’ll be a playground for the Capitol citizens. To take vacations, go on tours, reenact fights.

Their deaths are always turned into some sort of joke. They don’t honor the dead, and you hope that one day that comes and bites them in the ass. It’s disrespectful. Back home, if you even did half the shit they do in the Capitol, you’d be yelled at until Reed’s face turned blue, and then be grounded for however long he feels like it.

Eventually, the windows black out, indicating that you’re almost there. You drink more water, and try to breathe evenly. The games start at ten, and you’d take a good bet right now that it’s an hour away. An hour before you’re inside of the arena. Now, the nerves begin to sprout.

The hovercraft lands, Laurel directs you back towards the ladder. She’s lowered into the catacombs first. You take this time to thank whoever is around you, just trying to be polite. When it’s your turn, you get frozen and you watch as you’re brought through a tube, down to the cement catacombs. From there, Laurel leads you to where your Launch Room will be.

The second you step inside, you begin to feel sick. You take deep breaths, reassuring Laurel that you’re fine and you just need to get a hold of your stomach. You pace, and press your hand against your forehead. She comes around with a cold water after that, and you mostly press it to your forehead, afraid that drinking it will trigger something in your throat.

When you feel better, Laurel makes you take a shower and offers last minute food. You take a small roll that’s the shape of a fish and tastes like salt. It reminds you of the time your mom bought you pretzels from the bakery one afternoon as a treat. You didn’t really like the salt, and had to brush most of it out. But you ate it anyway, and later you discovered just how much you liked it.

You brush your teeth, Laurel pulls your hair out of your face into a ponytail that you requested. You can’t have your hair in your face. You’ve seen all the years before where some tributes during the bloodbath will get their hair in their face while running. If you’re focused on getting your hair out of your face, then you’re not paying attention to your surroundings.

Finally, your outfit comes through in a box. Everything inside is brand new, and not even Laurel knows what’s inside. She didn’t get to choose this outfit, she tells you that you’ll be wearing the exact same thing as the other tributes. There’s complete fairness between all of you.

First is a sports bra and high-waisted underwear. She hands over a pair of black stirrup pants. It takes you a moment to get used to the feeling of the pants being directly attached to your feet. You’re worried about them being pulled down when you’re running, but out comes a thin, black belt to keep the pants from moving too much.

She gives you a thin, faded, blue-grey shirt, “Must be hot.” is all she says. Next is a jacket, which is also thin, but it’s white and has a hoodie attached. You pull on a pair of skin-tight socks. You do a series of motions, being sure that they won’t slide down. They don’t, but you pull them all the way up anyway.

The shoes are black boots, which you tie the laces tight. Once you’re sure that it’s not cutting off circulation, you make sure it all fits. You zip up the jacket halfway, not wanting it to get in the way of running. You have to go to the cornucopia, whether you like it or not. It’ll just be a whole lot easier if you get there first.

“Feels comfortable?” Laurel asks, you nod. Finally, she pulls out your mother’s ring and slips it onto your finger.

She offers food again, and you ask for water. The two of you sit on the couch together in complete silence. You fidget with the ring, rub your hands against the jeans to get the sweat off of your hands. You’ll be fine, all you have to do is breathe.

This must be how all the tributes before you felt. How everyone after you will feel, too. Absolute terror of the unknown. The second you’re raised and the gong sounds, it’s fair game. Anything can happen. It’s like what you told Reed; the arena is unpredictable. One second you could be fine, the next you could be covered in injuries and fighting for your life.

“I want to go home.” you suddenly breathe out, tears gathering in your eyes, “I just want to go home.”

“And you will.” Laurel says, she’s extending an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into her side and rubbing your arm. This brings a whole new wave of sadness. It’s the exact move your dad did after announcing your mom was dead, “You’re a fighter, (Y/n). You’ve beaten the odds so far, what’s a little more?”

It’s not little, though. You want to tell her that, but all you do is nod. It’s not a little. You have weeks in front of you. Events around every single corner if the arena is boring for longer than a die.

Then, a female voice is saying it’s time to prepare for launch. You take a deep breath, clearing your eyes of the tears. You and Laurel head over to the metal plate. Before you step inside, she’s readjusting your clothes, fixing your hair. It’s such a motherly thing to do. To fuss over things she won’t be able to control in a moment.

“I know you’re not with Finnick.” She says, “So be careful with the careers. You don’t know them as well as you think you do. They can act on whims, and bad thoughts will lead to bad moves.”

You nod, “I know.”

“Good.” she hugs you a final time, you can feel the butterflies start to swarm your stomach and begin to suffocate for you, “I can’t bet on you, (Y/n). But the prep team and I will be cheering you on, okay?”

You step onto the metal plate, “Thank you, for everything.”

The glass cylinder comes down from the top, slowly beginning to encase you. It’s like shutting the lid on the coffin. You wonder if your dead parents are watching you, right alongside your brothers, sister, and family friends. You wonder if they have the same feeling of impending doom dawning on them.

You hold back the tears, wave goodbye to Laurel, and then you straighten up, chin high. You have to look bold for Reed. No matter how awful you’re feeling, you have to pretend right now. You can’t screw up the chance you got, because it’s all you have.

Soon, you’re encased in pure darkness.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair lacuna #lacuna

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

Text

Ectober Day 28: Fall - Sinners Are We Chap.6: No More Idle Hands

And Dove could stay silent no more.

Neither he nor his brother got their father’s infamous wail. For Russet that made perfect sense, he simply didn’t hold up in the power department for such a powerful ability. And Orrin didn’t find such a brash brazen ability to be suited to him, so he rather didn’t care if he developed it or not. But Dove having it, and so young, was truly a surprise. And he loved those. So he feels he is quite justified in laughing as everyone else grasped their ears and collapsed, even father fell to the ground as everything shook. Everything around bursting, exploding, pluming even more smoke and ash into the sky practically blotting it out.

Who would have thought she’d have such a destructive ability.

He summons enough ectoplasm around his ears to muffle the sound, father wasn’t honestly smart enough to think of this quite yet. Then again, father was never on the receiving end of the Ghostly Wail. Orrin stands up, defying gravity to keep his balance on the shaky ground, sticking his arms out to the side and laughing, “WOW! I MEAN REALLY! WOW!”, grinning wide and a bit wild, if everything’s descending into madness and chaos then might as well behave a little mad to match, “KEEP THIS UP AND YOU MIGHT JUST KILL EVERYONE YOURSELF! HAHAHAHAHA!”. He absolutely knows father looks to him and notes his little trick to get around the wail, and will, of course, utilise it himself in a few seconds. The pressure’s on Dove, what will you do? What will you do.

But again she catches him by surprise, picking an option he never realised was on the board at all. She doesn’t stop, or aim it; no she changes octaves. Which, was father even capable of such a thing? She, she might just be stronger than him. Well fancy that. This octave though, oh it absolutely makes Orrin drop to his knees; the ectoplasm doing nothing to muffle the sounds.

All the mortals groan and roll over, many simply watching or backing away in stunned silence as three of the -apparently- four present Gray-Phantom’s pass out, the little girl- the princess losing the human disguise in the process.

Rio pushes herself up, staggering to run over to the little glowing gray-haired girl with her little head tilted skyward as green/purple sound-waves pulsed out of her mouth, sparkling pale blue tears streaming down her face from amber eyes. Rio collapsing next to her and hugging the little girl she’d grown to know as so gentle it almost hurt, “ROBIN! DOVE! STOP! SWEETHEART IT’S FINE! IT’S FINE! NO ONE’S HURTING ANYMORE! BUT YOU NEED TO STOP!”, and practically smushes the girl into her as the horrific sound peters off and the girl shakes violently.

Rio looks around as everyone starts to stand, some very cautiously looking towards the downed Gray-Phantom’s and chucking things at them from afar. Rio squeezing Dove/Robin closer and snapping her head towards Rex as he walks over, “she’s never hurt anyone”.

“She’s one of them”.

Rio snarls, “do I look like I care?”. Rex just huffs and wanders off, waving over his shoulder, “this is your problem then. Remi’s fine though”. Rio sighs at that. Then looking around as she stands. What the Hell are they going to do?

Spotting one of the hunters moving to put anti-ecto braces on Lark -Orrin, she staggers over, minding her twisted ankle and other injuries, “wait. This- this utterly insane nutter is to thank. He did this. Planned this. He-”, glancing to the girl she’s carrying in her arms who looked to just be staring blankly, “-got her to take them down. At least wake the twit up”.

The hunter huffs and cuffs him anyway but does give the... prince a good zap to wake him up. The guy groans on the ground in a way that makes it sound like he had simply been taking a nice afternoon nap, “well. That was certainly interesting”.

Rio grunts down at him, slightly out of pain, “and that was a stupid choice of first words. I don’t think I need to point out that you’re at gunpoint, cuffed, and surrounded; Orrin”.

He chuckles faintly, sits up, and crosses his legs. Cool, calm, demeanour never faltering, “well I would certainly hope so. These fellows wouldn’t be doing what they’re supposed to otherwise”, he looks around and shrugs a little, her following his gaze towards Russet. Him chuckling faintly, “well damn, that imbecile’s still alive”.

Jester loses it at that, “you wanted us to kill him?”.

“Arguably, why not? He’s a real bastard”.

One of the hunters makes a wheezing sound, “oh gods”, looks to Rio, “how in all the worlds did you turn one of the princes. Seriously”.

Orrin apparently won’t let that statement fly, “oh no. Blame the little missy. Real gentle doll that one”.

Rio looks to the side as Dove/Robin stirs at that, looking down at Orrin. Rio holds on to her, unsure, when the girl moves to reach for him. Orrin just chuckles and stands up while the cuffs just fall off and takes the girl from her in a swift motion. Everyone near -who aren’t helping with clean up or medical care- gape at him and follow him with their guns, Rio turning around gapping herself. Orrin chuckles again, looking at them with a smirk, “what? Did you really think I wouldn’t have altered everything to have little to no effect on me?”, he grins, “I’m the smart one you know. The sneaky shadow. Guess it’s true what people say that no one notices what their shadow does until it does something they don’t expect”. One of the hunters shoots him in the foot as if to check, which he rolls his eyes at. It, of course, does nothing more than leave a bit of ash on his black spandex high-heels.

Everyone looks to the two Gray-Phantom’s that could actually be cuffed. One guy clearing his throat, “so... what are we supposed to with this? Did... did we just win”. It takes only a bit of murmuring for most of the people around to break out into cheering or crying. No one stops pointing weapons at Orrin though, which he obviously ignores as if they don’t even exist.

Rio does smile at Dove when she seems to hum slightly happily over the cheering. Though Dove straightens up and leans away from Orrin a bit, reaching her fingers out towards Russet. Everyone jumping and staring as both Russet and Phantom move across the ground to the other two Gray-Phantom’s inhumanly fast, yet never waking. Orrin putting Dove on the ground who goes over, takes off her teddy bear backpack, and bops Russet on the head with it; pointing at him with puffed out cheeks like she was scolding him. Then moving to do the same to Phantom. Orrin blinks at the scene, “I do not claim to understand that girl”.

Rio is the only one willing to stand anywhere close to him, her crossing her arms, “I think you just don’t understand being nice and innocent”.

“You may be right there. Though I doubt most would be any different in my shoes”. No one really argues him there, because he was probably right. How could anyone be raised by those monsters and not wind up one?

Rio scowls at him, “I almost feel bad for you. But you’re probably as much a murderous monster as the rest of your family”, scowling more when he chuckles and grins meanly. Making it very clear to everyone that he was perfectly fine with that fact, and that he has, in fact, actually killed people. Rio draws her eyebrows together, “then why, why effectively save us”.

Orrin quirks an eyebrow, “didn’t I already tell you? Oh well, mortal minds are hardly of quality”, then steamrolls right over multiple offended objections, “me and brother dearest started out like terrible terrors”, pointing at Dove, “she, did not”, smoothing his jacket, “be a shame to turn gold to brass, don’t you think? Further, this seemed like a far more interesting course of action, I dare say”.

Everyone pauses and looks to Dove and Russet as the latter stirs. Orrin actually smirking when Russet spots Dove glaring down at him with crossed arms and Russet actually flinches. Orrin saunters over with a very wicked-looking grin on his face, “now what was that? Did the big scary bad Rusty flinch at the sight of a little girl?”. Which fine, more than a few people around laugh at slightly. Though many find this to be incredibly surreal and way too mundane after everything; petty sibling bickering between those framed to be the worst of monsters in the middle of what was just a battleground that had promised nothing but death for all the mortals there mere seconds ago.

Russet scowls up at the younger prince, “fuck you you fucking piece of shit demon child bastard. Ancients fuck you are a psychopath-”.

Orrin cuts him off with a shrug while everyone else just watches wide-eyed, “I appreciate the compliment, though really this seems more like a situation where you should be aiming to be insulting”, he shoves Russets head with his boot, making Russet squirm and start spewing profanities at noticing the cuffs and everything. Orrin just talks over him, “be glad I’m not power-hungry like you. Otherwise-”, Orrin grins and everyone tenses as he bends down, “-I’d find it quite tempting to take advantage of this and just do away with the first prince entirely. I find doing so would hardly be difficult, considering your current predicament”. Everyone relaxes when Dove hits Orrin with the plushie backpack, and he just chuckles faintly and gives her a head pat as he straightens up.

After a second though, all the hunters and rebels nod to each other, marching over and move to grab up both the still unconscious Phantom and snarling Russet. But Dove grabs both of them and squeezes them, somehow knocking Russet back out, and puffs out her cheeks defiantly.

Everyone glancing at each other awkwardly. Orrin breaks their awkwardness slightly by sighing, “and she still doesn’t know how to snarl properly”.

Rio shakes her head, personally glad for that, and walks over the kneel in front of her, “sweetheart, we can’t just leave them in the street. And remember what I said about bad people needing to be punished?”, when Dove nods she continues, “well we punish people by locking them up. Besides-”, side-eyeing the hunters, “-I doubt you’d let us seriously hurt them. Right?”. Dove nods immediately and repeatedly, puffing her cheeks more. Rio can tell that the hunters got the damn message that this was a losing battle. No Gray-Phantom was dying/being destroyed here today. This tiny girl just effectively took out all of the ghostly Gray-Phantom’s with one attack and practically instantly, even nearly destroyed the city and everyone in it at the same time. They were very lucky she was a kind gentle soul. Very. It would be better to not tick her off or do something to change that. Not that Rio was entirely sure it was possible to piss that girl off. Annoy? Sure. Piss off? No.

Dove huffs again, turns almost dramatically, and starts marching off in the direction of the -probably wrecked- jailhouse; dragging Phantom and Russet under her arms across the ground.

One of the hunters pointing out, “she does realise we can’t put them in regular cells, right? Like, those things need special ecto-containment cells. Especially Phantom”, grumbling, “with that bloody crown of his”.

Orrin grins and turns to him, sticking his hands in his pockets and giving a smile that’s close to charming, “actually, no”, tilting his head, “well, yes, but no”. Rio glares at him so he explains himself without any further prompting, “I think it is fair to say that father was quite efficiently and effectively bested, yes?”.

One of the hunters scowls, “your point, monster”, scowling a little more, “and know that regardless of this, you still belong in a cell or obliterated out of existence”.

Orrin only chuckles instead of seeming even slightly threatened, “oh I’m well aware how others feel of me, no need wasting your breath. After all, you need it and you have so very little of it”, grinning meanly, “why it could be snuffed out just like that”.

Rio pinches the bridge of her nose, “for the love of- stop being threatening just because you can be now that it won’t make you suspicious”.

Orrin rolls his eyes, “you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tear off your pretty little head”.

“Uncalled for”.

“And yet you still seem to put up with me. Strange”. Rio absolutely scowls deeper at the Gray-Phantom for that. “Anyway, my point is, when you best a royal, what is it that happens?”, he taps his chin in obviously fake contemplation before sounding rather condescending, “why you usurp them of course. You take their throne. Their crown. I do believe you get the message this time”.

Rio blinks at him, bullshit, “there is no way your... mother will go for that”.

He wags a clawed finger at her, “ah but her role as Mortal Queen is entirely made up and her claim as High Ghost Sovereign is that of a Consort”, shrugging, “normally in chess, you kill the queen, you win the game. But in this case, it’s the king”, smirking, “or was”. Needless to say, everyone starts freaking out.

Rio watches him smirk as people panic, it was mostly a good or confused panic though. “You just like chaos, don’t you”.

He doesn’t even look to her as he speaks, “I find it enjoyable yes. It’s more that I like to be entertained. I’m a creature of novelty and I had been rather bored as of late”.

Rio squints at him, “I can’t figure out if you’re genuinely on our side or are just dicking around”. Scowling when he winks before sauntering off in the direction of the jailhouse. More than a few hunters and rebels following largely to ‘keep an eye on’ the Gray-Phantom they could do nothing about; though some were conflicted on their feelings over the halfa that they had become familiar and even friendly with over the past while.

They walk in to Dove sitting on the floor attempting and succeeding at braiding Phantom’s flaming hair. Orrin furrowing his eyebrows at her, “why? What purpose does this serve”. She predictably just hums at him, rocking a little. Many of the hunters and rebels mutter, “you've got to be kidding me”. Rio and a few others barely hold back cooing ‘awww’s at the girl; the fact that it was Phantom getting his hair braided rather killed the cute effect of the scene.

Everyone but Orrin and Dove jumping at a portal swirling open on the wall and the FrightKnight waltzing through. All of the fully living aiming their weapons but doing nothing when the ghost bows to Dove, who pats his helmet with a small smile.

The FrightKnight looks to Orrin, “I must say, you frighten me. It will never cease to amaze me how so many call the first prince the demon rather than you”. Orrin bows very exaggeratedly with a coy grin, “you flatter me so”. The ghost shakes his head before turning and kneeling before Dove, “shall I take these two to the dungeon for you, my queen”, she just hums but the ghost seems to understand and before anyone can do anything the two captured Gray-Phantom’s are whisked away by the ghost.

All the fully living around are stunned stupid, Rio looking to Orrin, “you were serious”, then screwing up her face, “wait”, throwing her hands out to the side and scowling at Orrin, “Dove obviously doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Isn’t she just going to let them loose?!?!”. The group giving the halfas panicked looks as they come upon the same worry. The princess -Queen?- was practically a newborn and those two monsters were her family.

Orrin waves everyone off, “oh it’s no matter. Crown’s hers all the same. Dear brother isn’t strong enough to beat her and father wouldn’t bother to even try. He never genuinely harms family in any long-lasting or permanent ways”, Orrin looks around and gives another mean smirk, “though you should thank little Dove for stopping you from killing Russet. I sure wouldn’t have”.

One of the guys squints at him, “why? Also, them being free is the problem, not them trying to challenge her. Though fine, that would be an issue too”. Everyone had officially decided without question that they’d take the sweet little Dove as a ruler over her monster parents or siblings.

“Why that’s so very simple. You may think father is bad already, but that is nothing compared to what he’s really capable of. I wouldn’t put it past him to annihilate everything he could get his claws on if one of us were destroyed”.

Rio almost can’t believe that she’s hearing the Phantom, the mass-murdering monster of monsters, had a ridiculous soft spot for his family. A genuine one. Turning to look at Dove and going wide-eyed at her floating/walking over while tugging at a flaming glowing green crown. Which pulls down over her face before springing back over her head every time she lets go of it. The girl humming and purring in clear joy and amusement. Then kneeling down to poke Rio’s ankle which suddenly doesn’t hurt. Rio blinking, “sweetheart... did you just... heal me?”. Dove hums and nods before running off poking people.

Orrin sighs and shakes his head a little, guess she thought the hiding game was over; he does follow her with his eyes though. Which doesn’t go unnoticed.

One of the hunters kneeling down to let the little glowing girl poke his head, then staring off after her as she moves on, “this is going to take some getting used to”, then noticing Orrin’s staring that’s boarding on a glare, “chill out ah... for the love of everything take your human form again, this is too weird”. Some others nod, some laugh though it’s weak.

Orrin rolls his eyes but promptly shoots the guy lazily with an ecto-beam; the guy hissing from the impact and being caught off-guard, “that’s for proposing the idea of kidnapping Dove”. Unsurprisingly everyone points their guns at him again before lowering them and glaring at the halfa after he spoke. He just grins, “just keeping things interesting”, the grin turning rather mean as the guy brushes himself off, “besides I think you’d prefer a weak little ecto-beam over my original idea. Which involved cups, mice, and your eyes. Make of that what you will”.

Rio scowls, “I think I preferred when you didn’t randomly threaten people, let’s go back to that”, sighing and glancing to Dove, “at least you’re protective I guess”.

Everyone goes silent, which becomes slightly awkward till Remi comes running in looking for her ma only to get practically tackled by Dove. Gently tackled, but still tackled. Remi just looks confused and kinda scared, “w-who”. Resulting in Dove looking almost heartbroken and making gestures at Orrin, who rolls his eyes but twirls his fingers dramatically; both of them suddenly looking as everyone was rather more familiar with. Remi gets over her shock instantly and starts worry babbling at Dove.

Orrin grins faint and amused as he leans his arms on the windowsill, watching as Dove finishes poking people outside, everyone exchanging glances before basically shouting, “LONG LIVE THE QUEEN”. Oh there were so many possibilities to be had. Especially when father wakes and mother hears of this. Would she be proud ‘her little girl’ bested the ghost she never could? Would Dove ‘talk’ them into being peaceful ‘or else’? Would the dead accept her as a High Sovereign or would she need to prove her worth?

Looking down, she obviously had little idea what was going on. Possibly none at all. She was simply smiling and moving her hands around because she was enjoying their happiness and cheer. Such a strange thing. Her enjoying... joy. He truly has little clue how their parents made her. And he rather doubts they understand it either. Even when those two were ‘good guys’ they certainly weren’t able to be called ‘innocent’ or ‘gentle’. While those were the first words that came to mind with Dove.

Turning his head slightly as Rio comes in, her closing the door and leaning against it with crossed arms, “so... are you guys going to be staying or...”, and quirking an eyebrow.

“Is this your mortal way of asking me to”.

She huffs, “Remi would be sad, that is all”. Which Orrin isn’t even close enough to a fool to believe for even a second, “yeah. Sure it is”.

“...”.

Orrin shakes his head a little and turns to look back out the window. The mortals were giving her sweets. How quaint. “I doubt I could keep Dove away. As I find I doubt she would really let me try to in genuine”. She had clearly grown fond of this place and it’s creatures; and clearly not as simply pets, servants, or loyal manipulatable underlings.

He can hear the raised eyebrow in Rio’s voice, “wouldn’t ‘let you’? You don’t seem like someone who’s controllable”.

He elects for vague, not as if he needs to explain in the first place, “there are ways”. Far be it for him to mention that the Crown makes the wearer able to control the dead, or part dead for that matter. He doubts Dove would make much use of that, which is quite fine by him. Not that that wouldn’t make things interesting regarding father.

“Riiiight”.

He outright ignores that. Him speaking again as she joins him by the window, “regardless, no we will not be staying. Dove has her castle and throne to attend to”, grinning both mean and mischievous, “and I have a brother to torture”.

“... I can’t tell if you mean that literally”, she sighs, “so she’ll come back then”.

“Indeed”.

“And you?”.

That does catch him just slightly off-guard. Apparently he wasn’t completely deplorable to these people. Fancy that. Though he had a level of feeling that this particular member of the living was more than just tolerant of him. “Oh I doubt Remi would care if I did or not”, him smirking a bit, “unless of course, that particular question has nothing to do with her happiness at all”.

He glances at her as she audibly scowls at him, “you’re an emotionless asshole without a caring bone in your body”.

Which only makes him chuckle, “then clearly you’re rather nuts for getting feelings involved”. This entire escapade was bringing plenty of interesting surprises and twists that he hadn’t yet experienced it would seem. “Particularly when you know said asshole has wanted to at the very least mildly murder you on multiple occasions”. Why that of all things gets her to promptly give him a chastised kiss he isn’t going to claim to understand in the slightest. Instead he furrows his brows at her, “I find I don’t understand you much either at times”. Did Phantom’s just have a habit of attracting living women? That could be an idea to look into at a later date.

She rolls her eyes and looks back out the window, where Dove is now chuckling flowers at people. “Good. I’d probably bore you otherwise”.

He dips his head slightly to acknowledge that is rather true, “accurate”.

“... so, will you come back?”.

“Well I dare say my curiosity is rather peaked now, so I hardly can find a reason to not”.

She scowls at him, but even his moron of a brother could tell she wasn’t actually upset with him. “Yup. You’re still a jerk”.

He snorts, “don’t go expecting change. Dove’s the ‘sweetheart’, not me”, running a hand through his hair and smirking, “I’m definitely more charming though”.

“Annnd there’s the ego”.

“It’s far too late for you to make denials-”, pausing and tilting his head at sniffing mothers scent. Looking up to spot the red suit and hoverboard far up in the sky, clearly she was watching, was seeing this. Dove frolicking with a bunch of mortals, a green crown flaming over her head all the while. “Mother’s here”.

Rio immediately jerks to attention and puts her hand to her blaster in preparation for assault. Orrin tilts his head though, watching as mother seems to shake her head and laugh before shooting off into the distance. “She... left”, he’s never felt genuinely shocked by something before. Why?

Rio blinks at him, obviously in shock herself, “what?! Why?!”.

“I... don’t believe I know”.

Rio blinks at him before shaking her head and stiffly leaning on the windowsill again, “well I'm not about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth”.

He squints before smirking after a bit, “she may very well be going to mock father and berate brother for being a moron again”.

“Still not even glancing at the gift horse”. He chuckles at that.

Suddenly Dove’s floating in front of them, tugging gently on Orrin’s sleeve. ‘Come’. He feels the unspoken command deep into the core of him, and he can’t very well deny it. Now can he? So he floats off the ground and moves to head out the window, though smirking meanly and grabbing Rio at the last second to yank her out too.

“You bastard!”. That only makes him chuckle more.

Him speaking quiet enough that the living won’t hear, “you truly ought learn to be more sparing with the KingSpeak, being forced to do things is hardly enjoyable. Particularly for a Gray-Phantom”. Dove just hums pleasantly at him as he’s effectively dragged into the silly dancing thing. And while the mortals keep their distance mostly, they don’t outright flee from him. How quaint and a rather peculiar turn of events.

End.

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aurirising · 5 years ago

Text

Another potentially unpopular/controversial opinion

From the girl who brought you the long defense of Kal/call out of the squad, comes the thrilling and really rather contradictory sequel. I humbly present to you A Defense of Squad 312 because nuance is fun and important and I'm nothing if not fair in a situation like this.

Okay, so, to clarify, I'm not necessarily going to be saying that their actions were morally right or that I agree with them per se, but, what I am going to do is explain why some of them make sense and are understandable given the circumstances and who the characters are as people.

I'm gonna go character by character here and first up we have Scarlett. Go big or go home right?

So, Scarlett has possibly the worst reaction, but also the most justified. Everyone in that squad has gone through absolute hell but Scarlett has at this point suffered the most, second only to maybe Auri (who has had time to process and let go and move on and stuff in the Echo but we can get to that later). Let's remember that both books in their entirety span less than 2 WEEKS and in that time Scarlett has:

Had a death scare for her brother on the very night all this started

Been shoved into an incredibly dangerous mission which she, along with everyone else, was completely unprepared for

Been attacked by God knows how many different groups of people almost everyday INCLUDING AURI, even if that wasn't really her and she didn't want to do that

Lost her absolute best friend in the universe thanks to this mission neither of them really signed up for

Had to watch her brother, the only family she has left who she absolutely adores, fight a monster with a TINY KNIFE and almost watch him get killed right in front of her

Watched all the people she's grown to care for and feels at least somewhat responsible for get hurt and nearly killed over and over again

Actually lost her brother to the clutches of the very people/being that took away her best friend maybe a week ago and doesn't know if he's even still alive or what might be happening to him

Been thrown into a leadership role she has never wanted or trained for under the absolute worst circumstances and doesn't have time to grieve anything that's happened to her and is now being slowly crushed under the pressure of leading the squad and keeping them safe that even Tyler - the best Alpha in their year - struggled with

And this isn't even to mention the fact that the Starslayer killed her father and his relation to Kal did in fact put them all at higher risk from the Unbroken even if, like I mentioned in my Kal post, this can't all be blamed straight on him.

Now, although this isn't all Kal's fault and, if Scarlett was thinking more rationally, she'd realise that, you have to remember that she ISN'T thinking rationally. Look at that list and tell me that if you'd been through all that, you'd be thinking clearly and I will straight up call you a liar because we humans are incredibly emotional beings and stress and loss makes us do all kinds of things we'd not normally do. And Scarlett, well Scarlett is one of the most deeply emotional people of all.

Throughout both books, it's repeatedly said and shown how much and how deeply she cares, even about these people she's only just met, and, I mean, she's a FACE for gods sake, feelings and caring about people and being in touch with the emotions of others to better negotiate is literally part of her job and one of her core personality traits. If that kind of stuff would destroy any one of us, it would without a doubt destroy her too. And then to get such an earth-shattering piece of news that could at first glance link directly to most of her problems? Well that is just the straw that breaks the Camel's back and so she lashes out. It makes sense, it's understandable and an emotional response that doesn't come out of nowhere. It's been built to all this time and no, it's not fair and it's not right, but when you snap, you snap and Kal is about the only thing right in front of her that she can see having caused her some of these problems that she can let it out on.

I want to reiterate once again that this isn't right. It's not an action that's supposed to be okay, it's one that highlights the flaws in good people and that doing what's right isn't always easy and people sometimes act selfishly. But the fact remains that she had a reason for behaving how she did, even if it wasn't a good reason, and though she acted incredibly harshly, that doesn't make her a bad person, it just makes her a person.

Also like, if I remember rightly it wasn't her who was first to tell Kal he needed to leave but choosing as the leader to do so also makes sense in circumstance. Something like that reveal will create something of a rift whether people want it to or not. When you find something like that out, you absolutely would start questioning what you know about a person in even the best of times and, as we've already established, this is far from the best of times. With everything going on and the crushing weight of grief and anxiety and fear and doubt and everything else she's feeling, it isn't surprising that she would opt for the simplest solution to this. Whether Kal was trustworthy or not and regardless of whether he'd been the cause of any problems before or would be in the future, if he's not there, he can't possibly cause any further problems and they can focus on what they have to do without that extra worry on their minds. In both a tactical leadership sense and from a highly emotional view, it makes sense and I get why she and the others chose that.

Once again, I'm not saying it's fair or right or just, but it is understandable and one poor and somewhat cruel decision does not make Scarlett a mean person.

Okay, moving on. You'll be glad to know I'm not gonna go on so much with the other characters because there was significantly more to talk about in regards to Scarlett than any of the others.

I'm actually gonna talk about Fin and Zila together because I feel a lot of their reaction comes from a similar place and they handle it in ways not too different from each other.

So for both of these guys I got the impression that they were more shell shocked and a little hurt rather than truly angry like Scarlett. They don't do or say a whole lot in this scene in comparison to Scar and Auri and Zila even tries to mediate just the tiniest bit at the begining. Both of them really seem to mostly be puzzling it out and trying to deal with the hurt of being deceived somewhat (especially Fin after he'd shared some meaningful bonding moments with Kal and had also come to him about the note and been lied to then) and barely get involved in the whole thing. Fin really only does when it looks like things are about to get physical between Kal and Scarlett and it's more out of worry that her rage is going to get her hurt if she tries to punch him or something (which is exactly what happens). And Zila is just in distress throughout the whole thing and again this doesn't seem to be specifically because of Kal but more from the fracturing of this group she'd started to feel at home in and like she belonged. She'd been coming out of her shell in the last few days after finally letting these people in and starting to feel safe with them and then this huge fight and breaking up happens and it's like another family unit is all being ripped away from her again and it triggers that trauma response that makes her start shutting down again.

Similarly I can see some of that response happening a little bit in Fin because he also has never felt like he belonged and has always been cast out and he finally found a group that cared about him and didn't consider him a burden because of his disability and he's also having that torn apart which can't be easy even if he seems to handle it better than Zila since it's more traumatic for her.

They both have milder reactions that are able to be somewhat more logical in approach since they comparatively have less emotional investment in some of the implications of this reveal than both Scarlett and Auri do. However, they're both still deeply hurt by the fracture this has caused within the group and Kal is in fact part of the cause of that fracture for them so they go along with Auri and Scarlett (who is literally their leader now and following orders and sticking together is so important to these two now that they have this group. They don't want to lose any more of it). And like I mentioned in the Scarlett section, they're smart and they recognise that distrust within the group as they head into what's next is incredibly dangerous and a huge detriment to the mission so since they are understandably hurt and a bit unsure now, they make the logical decision to reduce the potential risk in keeping him around.

Okay so a quick bit on Tyler. He, like Scarlett, is understandably hurt by finding out about Kal but his reaction is muted and more reasonable after what he's gone through with Saedii on the TDF ship and also due to the gravity of his situation and everything going on with Cat somewhat overshadowing it all. I don't think anyone is really mad at Tyler so I'll move on, but I think his level of hurt, betrayal, and anger is more in line with what I'd expect from him and probably Scarlett if she hadn't been through all she had and was being more rational.

So, where my irritation starts coming into play more is with Auri. She's spent 6 months with Kal in the Echo where they grew closer and more in love and I guess I can see questioning all that because if he lied about that for all that time then what else could he lie about? But there's also the debate to be had about certain point of view like in Star Wars and whether omission of something that might never really have needed to be said is acceptable. And the thing is, I can't give a definitive answer on that because every person is going to have a different opinion on that idea in general and on Kal's handling of this situation in particular based on what we've experienced in our own lives and where we draw the right/wrong line or handle the grey area of morality. With something like this, there really isn't much in the way of a right answer and that's okay.

But I think the thing I see with Auri which makes her a bit more understandable here is how she's using Kal's OWN WORDS to rationalise this and figure out how to feel. "And I remember you said our past makes us what we are." That part in bold is what Kal told her, what she knows he believes. When you know someone holds that belief and then you find out THAT is their past, there will be a question mark over them no matter how well you think you know them.

Also, Auri has dealt with so much loss lately and time and again people and systems she should have been able to trust and feel safe with have let her down or turned against her and, speaking as someone with some level of trust issues, I know it's incredibly hard to get rid of doubt after it's started to set in and all too easy to call up any small moment that might support that doubt, so I can see why Auri might be doing that now.

I am still personally of the opinion that Auri should have reacted better and known him well enough to not have acted that way but remember this is a defense post and I already gave the other side (at least most of it) on my Kal defense post.

I think we're gonna leave it here now. And in conclusion of both of these posts, whichever side of this you come down on more (or even if you sit in the middle like me), that's completely fine and valid and you're not wrong for feeling a certain way about a situation like this. Fundamentally, it comes down to which characters you most identify with and who's experiences most resonate with you.

It's not a clear cut right and wrong thing because literally every single character handled something badly and everyone's motives, including Kal's, were understandable in some way and believable. They're all people and people are flawed and selfish and jump to conclusions and lash out and although we have to remember that those aren't morally sound things to do, they're a shared human experience.

I know no one asked for this long-ass analysis of this scene and situation but as a writer and film student, scene and character analysis is kinda what I DO so I thought I'd go ahead and make this post. Something like this is actually brilliant writing from Jay and Amie because there's a lot more nuance to it than a quick glance at the situation might suggest and since it's such a hot topic in this fandom after Aurora Burning, I wanted to address it and make sure a bit more of an in depth look was taken into exactly what happened.

Anyway,

Tl;dr: this is something of a counter point to my Kal defense post and every member of the squad had understandable reason for reacting the way they did in this situation, even if they may have been too harsh. People are flawed and these characters are no exception, but that's okay.

#aurora cycle #aurora burning #aurora burning spoilers #again I'm really sorry i can't put this under a read more on mobile #discussion #rant

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.9

The Secret

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, (one-sided Matt Murdock x reader)

Word count: 2600

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. You went on a date with Matt aka Daredevil. The outcome is… interesting to say at least and strange to be more precise. And while you don’t want to talk about, Nat clearly does. Well... like you have a choice here.

Warnings: some awkwardness, swearing, light angst, and tons of fluff... and Natasha being the sneakiest sneak to ever sneak

Story Mastelist

────── ·❆· ──────

You were sitting in your room, dully staring at your wall, the scene replaying in front of your eyes over and over again. Well, not really; you hadn’t seen much at the moment.

Everything had been great. You and Matt had gone to a date – a dinner date, the most classical date of all and he had been wonderful. He had been a gentleman, pulling out a chair for you, which had been a little ridiculous, given the fact that at least to untrained eyes, he had been the one that needed help, but you had thought it was sweet. The food had been good, the wine as well and the conversation flew surprisingly easily for two people who had recently beat up someone together as their first meeting.

Matt was nice, sweet, funny, smart and… very objectively attractive. When he had taken off his glasses as the restaurant had started to empty, you had been reminded that he was also objectively cute.

Then you had left the restaurant, the night air pleasantly refreshing, his hand on your elbow for guidance and possibly more and about a half of a block from the Tower – which you had considered a safe distance for avoiding Tony’s sniffing around – you had said your goodbyes and kissed goodnight.

Matt was a fucking amazing kisser. His lips were soft and as smart as his talk, perfectly balanced closed-mouthed kissing, nibbling and teasing and— and for some reason, it had left you completely unfazed.

It had been awkward. Incredibly so. You had kissed him back of course, but quickly had said goodnight once more and the only reason why your heart had been freaking out in your chest had been because you had thought you had been a total freak. You were spooked to death, trying not to run the last metres to your place.

You had attempted to sneak into your room, but of course you had run into Steve; you managed to tell him that the date had been nice and once you reached the safety of your bedroom, you locked the door and leaned your back onto it, sliding down.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

That had been two days ago. You practically refused to leave your room. Natasha had come to check up on you and so had Steve – twice. You cowardly hadn’t opened the door and had said you weren’t feeling very well. You hadn’t lied. You had barely slept, thousands of different thoughts in your mind, tiptoeing around one single topic.

For some reason, you hadn’t fallen for the incredibly charming man women and men would kill for. There simply must have been something terribly wrong with you.

You whined, burying you face into your pillow for the thousandth time in the past few hours.

A beep announced a received text. You whined louder, expecting it to be from Matt; every single one of people who had your number lived in the tower except him.

It was Matt indeed.

Can I call you?

“No,” you muttered, planning on throwing your SIM card away. Opening the phone, you realized what a ridiculous creature you were. Such a coward.

You took a deep calming breath with zero effect and dialled Matt’s number yourself. You could do this. When you heard Matt saying your name through the speaker, you were positive that you couldn’t.

“Hey Matt,” you breathed to the phone, your quiet voice shaking.

“Are you okay? You sound… tired,” he noted with concern and you huffed out a laugh. That was one way to put it.

“Uhm… yeah, I am. A little. You? How are you, Matt?”

You found yourself genuinely caring about how he was. You cared for him. And when you thought back to the mission…. Why the hell did you feel the way you did? Or rather didn’t feel? What had changed? Why were you… broken?

“Oh. Okay. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I… I wanted to talk to you. It would probably be better in person, but… I want to give you an easy escape route,” he muttered nervously.

You heart skipped a beat. Shit. Here it came.

“O-okay. What is it, Matt?” you asked, feeling bad for playing dumb.

“I… I wanted to— to say I really enjoyed our night out-“ WHAT?! “-it was great.”

You gulped, panicking even more than before. Oh fuck. Matt liked the date. Probably liked the kiss and everything. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck-

“You okay?”

“What?!” you shrieked, horrified you cursed out loud.

“That’s a no to the okay question then-“

“No! I mean-“ you blurted out, you fist hitting your forehead too lightly. God, you wished you could just bang your head against a wall and knock yourself unconscious. Come on, coward, out with it. “Matt, I gotta tell you something.”

“Alright. So tell me,” he encouraged you gently and you mentally screamed. He was so nice to you and you were about to be a total bitch. Again.

“I… I loved our date night. I did. You were so amazing, you are amazing and there must be something seriously wrong with me and I hate it, because I just don’t understand why— why-“

“Why the kiss felt like kissing your brother?” he offered silently and you whimpered out loud as he caught up. He didn’t sound mad, but of course Matt wouldn’t be mad, he was so fucking nice (and deadly as Daredevil) it hurt.

“Incredibly hot and skilful brother-“

“Skilful, huh?” he hummed, light teasing in his voice. Great, now he was being cocky, trying to cheer you up.

“Matt, I honestly doubt I’m the first person to tell you you’re an amazing kisser.”

“Touché. But thanks anyway.”

You would swear he understood what you were saying, but he would make you say it in plain English, wouldn’t he?

“I’m so sorry, Matt. Any woman would be lucky to have you, hell I swear I would be lucky to have you, it’s just… I don’t know. I swear I don’t know,” you whispered miserably, resisting the urge to hide you whole face in your hands.

“Hey, don’t worry about it-“ Excuse me? “That’s not something you can turn on and off— poor choice of words, sorry-“

You giggled involuntarily and absolutely inappropriately.

“You can’t control that, Gerda,” he said softly, the same tone he used when he was navigating you through keep-Steve-cold-and-alive mission. “It’s why I called. I… suspected you were torturing yourself over it a little.”

Wait, hold a sec-

“What do you mean you suspected-“ Oh fuck. OH FUCK. “You could tell. You could tell with your freaky senses, couldn’t you?”

Oh, wow, this was whole new level of awkward.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Oh my god, someone just kill me already.”

“Gerda. Calm down. I’m not mad.”

“But I am! Jesus, I really should just dig myself a hole to crawl into and die-“

“Stop with the blasphemy and especially with the talk about dying,” he growled and you jumped at the threatening tone, immediately obeying.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you already said that…. Do you think… do you think we can meet again? Not now, not this week, or yes, whenever you would want to. I like you, Gerda. If you let me, I would like to be your friend.”

You almost choked on your own spit. The idea was likeable for you in a way, but it would be incredibly unfair to him.

“You sure, Matt? I mean… that’s… I’m not being too full of myself, I swear, but…”

“But you know what it’s like to fall for someone and be by their side only as a friend?” he offered kindly and your jaw fell. Come again?

“What? I’m not sure-“

“Really, Snowflake?”

You blood ran cold at the addressing, your heart positively stopping this time. That wasn’t— wasn’t-

“You told me you loved him, Gerda.”

“Yes. And that he was family,” you added, panicking. Yeah, okay, so you had a stupid crush on Steve that was lasting embarrassingly long, but that would go away and— alright, you had no idea someone had noticed that.

“Yes. And you weren’t lying, I could tell. But I think we both know it wasn’t the whole truth.”

You turned into a statue with the loudest heartbeat on Earth. In the silence of your room, it felt like the sound was ricocheting off the walls, coming back to you. You loved Steve, that was no news, sure, but… but… never mind. It didn’t matter, because even if you did love him more than as a family, he didn’t, so— so that didn’t change a thing about the possibility of your inability to momentarily fall for another man.

You groaned loudly, falling back into your pillows.

“And finally, the blind man opens her eyes…”

“Shut up,” you muttered, caught between too many emotions to recognize either of them.

“Talk to him, Gerda. You deserve to be happy.”

“Excuse me?”

“…you know he loves you back, right?” Matt asked matter-of-factly and you wondered when the heck had you slipped in the shower to hit your head hard enough to come up with this craziness of a dream.

“Matt. You’re being really sweet, but please don’t make up stuff like that-“

“I’m not making up-“

You whined again, pulling the phone as far from your ear as you could. This was not something you needed to hear now. Or ever. False hope sucked.

Two loud knocks interrupted your misery.

“Hey, it’s Natasha, can I come in? You’re okay in there?”

“Matt, thank you for being so cool about all this, but I gotta go. I’ll call you – or you call me when you feel like it, it was good to talk to you, bye.” You hung up before he could say a word. For once, you welcomed the interruption and actually walked to the door, unlocking it.

Please, tell me we have a mission. Preferably without Steve, because right now I won’t be able to look him in the eye.

You met with Natasha’s worried gaze. “You okay? You sounded a bit…”

“I was on the phone,” you explained shortly, your tone indicating how much you didn’t want to talk about it.

“Okay. Uhm… are you ready to talk about you two days isolation? Are you sick? Because JARVIS can tell you weren’t sick.”

“Fucking AIs.”

“Sorry, madam,” the AI sounded from above and you yelped. Right.

“It’s fine, J.”

While you were talking to the AI, apologizing to someone who had no emotions thus probably couldn’t be offended, Natasha invited herself in and seated herself on your bed. For the first time, you noticed she had brought two glasses of red wine. You grimaced.

“Yeah, sure, come in, Tasha,” you noted sarcastically and she smiled innocently.

“Thanks. So… wanna talk about boys?”

You opened the door you had managed to close just before she asked that stupid question.

“Not really. Thanks for the visit. Door’s this way”

The spy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Come on. You were on a date and unless you were… taking care of yourself whole two days, too stunned to leave your room-“ Jesus, Tasha.. “-it’s didn’t go well. So. I’m all ears.”

You eyed her as if she just announced you were about to be a subject of torture. Which wasn’t exactly inaccurate. You closed the door again. “It was nice, okay?”

“Uh-huh. But?” she guessed and you let your shoulders slump, heavily seating yourself next to her. She offered you a glass and you just shook your head. You hadn’t really eaten in the past two days and drinking on empty stomach was never a good idea. She set the glass on your nightstand either for later or for herself. “Too much tongue?”

You looked at her deadly serious expression and you couldn’t help yourself. You just burst out laughing, the loud noise hurting your own ears after your time alone. The corners of her lips twitched.

“You really wanna know?” you checked and she wiggled her eyebrows. “No. Just the right amount of tongue. If I could take a guess, he took kissing as an elective in college.”

“Whoa, okay. So why are you making that face and why did you shut everyone down? Including Steve?”

You bit the inside of your cheek – it wasn’t exactly a secret you and Steve were really close, but… well. You really didn’t want to think about Steve now.

“I don’t know,” you said, realizing it wasn’t the truth. You knew. You were just having troubles to admit it and come to terms with it. “I… it just wasn’t there. I mean… Matt’s amazing. Like… I-would-pay-him-for-being-my-date-again amazing, but… the spark was missing. Which possibly means I’m frigid, but…”

Natasha covered your hand with hers – you didn’t even realize you were clutching the sheets.

“You know that’s not true, you’re not an actual Ice Queen,” she teased you lightly, but with the genuinely caring tone that made you realize that the whole team was already so much more than your team.

You had considered that before, but this very moment… you were paying more attention to your emotions than ever; which made you discover another thing. They were all your family. And family trusted each other.

“I guess I’m not.” She smiled at you, handing you the glass with no objections permitted. You chuckled and sipped the crimson liquid. “You know, you don’t need to get me drunk to make me spill all of my secrets. I told you about Matt rather willingly.”

Natasha grinned and sipped her wine too. “Oh, good. I need you sober.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

“Later. Since you told me about Matt, is it time to tell me about Steve too?”

You choked on the next sip of the wine, utterly shocked at the words. Natasha’s reflexes saved your carpet when taking your glass away.

“What the hell, Romanoff?!” you rasped, another cough fit hitting you. She wasn’t impressed.

“Please. You could as well have the ‘desperate pining’ and ‘clearly platonic cuddling’ signs above your head.”

You were speechless, staring at the redhead, tears from the coughing fit blurring your vision.

“Don’t look at me like that. So I know you love him, it’s not a big deal,” she exclaimed with a shrug as if she was saying what the weather was tonight.

“Why does everyone keep telling me that?!”

“Everyone?”

“Well… you’re only second today, not that it makes me feel any better,” you mumbled, running your hand down your face.

Who else knew? Did Steve know too? The thought made you nauseous. What if he knew but never said anything, because he didn’t want things to be awkward between the two of you? Oh god, oh god…

“Huh. Gotta say that guy really is perceptive. I mean, he barely met you and Steve.” She sounded genuinely impressed. You hid your face in your palms, muffling another whimper that escaped your lips. “It’s not that obvious. I mean… I know about at least one person, who is perfectly oblivious. Otherwise he would have actually had the balls to tell you that he loves you back.”

Natasha’s tone was rather flat, informative, but you had learned to recognize the nuances in her voice. You could tell she was telling you something huge, yet, your mind was very slow with realizing what each of the words meant and what they meant together.

Then you finally made some sense of the sentence. Except you didn’t. You looked up, baffled.

“I— I’m sorry. I think I already had too much wine. Could you repeat what you just said?”

A smug smile appeared on the spy’s lips as she pulled out a flash drive from her pocket.

“Have a laptop lying around here somewhere, Snowflake? We need to process some evidence.”

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Part 10 (final)

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek

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Last part ahead... and not to spoil a thing, but yes, you can expect enough fluff to drown in it ;)

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x imagine #steve roregs #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #avenger reader #avengers #hands too cold but heart of gold #anika ann

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honeybeesiness · 4 years ago

Text

SUNSET LOVER.

word count :: 1.3k.

~~~

Tanjirou flexed his fingers one by one in a slow fashion, almost as though he was just beginning to register the fact that he had fingers and could grasp things. The bed he was laying on felt foreign and the sheets against his skin were scratchy, but he was sure that he was imagining all of this. This bed was the most comfortable bed he's ever been on, but the circumstances made him feel otherwise.

A bead of sweat trickled down Tanjirou's temple. The room was cool, courtesy of Aoi, but the boy felt as though he was on fire. He had been told that he had acquired a fever and that it was best to relax and wait for it to pass as his body recovered from the mission he recently completed.

It had also been at least a month after he sent his letter reply, and you had yet to respond. Tanjirou's worry increased with each passing day that went by without a letter until his mind had begun to assume the worst, but he had never been able to find a time where he could take a break and go visit your estate. He was a promising Demon Slayer and was slowly gaining recognition, so he had started to receive more and more missions from his crow. If he got injured during a fight, he would be sent to the Butterfly Estate for recovery, and when he was fully healed, he would be sent on another assignment. There was no gap period for him to sit back and relax on his own accord.

Tanjirou wept soundlessly on his bed. He missed you. Even if he did end up getting a letter from you, he wouldn't be able to write a reply. His fingers felt numb and his arms were made of lead, and he could only move his head left and right. The rest of his body felt fine (aside from a few minor wounds), but his legs or his torso or his feet weren't needed in the writing process. To put it plainly, Tanjirou Kamado was sad. Incredibly sad. He had grown attached, and this was his consequence.

The door opened and a figure clothed in warm colors slipped in, approaching his bed. It was Nezuko. She didn't say a word, but she used her thumb to brush away tears that were sliding down the side of her brother's face. He couldn't see her other hand, as it was covered by the edge of the bed. The image of Nezuko's face was blurry from the tears, but Tanjirou stared at her, wondering what she could want.

"A letter," She beamed and it was beautiful. "has arrived for you."

Tanjirou laughed— It was one of happiness, and the tears were now of joy. He knew that it was from you without Nezuko even saying it, because you were the only one who would take time out of your day to create something handwritten.

Nezuko held up her other hand to reveal the item of interest, and Tanjirou was left only somewhat disappointed; The paper was not folded into a shape, so he was left staring at an envelope.

"Can you read it for me?" He asked, his throat dry.

"Of course." Nezuko chimed as she knelt and pulled the flap of the envelope upwards in order to remove its contents. Her eyes scanned the first sentence or two before she began.

"Dear Tanjirou,

Sorry that the letter is long overdue. My family hasn't been in the safest of conditions, so I haven't been able to set aside time to write something. My father, he... Well, he's not around anymore, and I think you can figure out why. My mother is a very smart woman but she doesn't handle pressure very well, especially since she's now the head of the house. Things have been stressful lately, so I'm sorry.

To explain what's going on, since I'm definitely not cliché enough to be vague, my brother had broken free of the restraints we had gotten him, completely decimated the door of the room he was in, killed my dad, and put us all in danger. It's just my mom and I now. We are currently in this underground bunker thing that one of our ancestors apparently built. I am pretty sure my brother's still roaming around the area, as I think I saw him when I snuck out to send this. My theory is that he simply is confused on where to go, and just doesn't know what to do with himself. Our estate is familiar so he's sticking with what little he knows. Or remembers.

We don't know what to do exactly. Neither my mom or I are good with weapons, and we care too much about my brother to leave him. We are biased fools stuck on the line between giving him up to be killed by the Corps, or hanging on a little while longer in hopes that you can find some sort of cure soon. I am starting to lose faith in a cure— But don't take it the wrong way, Tanji. I will never lose faith in you because you have neve failed me. It's just the solution is the thing that seems impossible. I'm not saying that you should give up, however, but I'm not saying that you should continue searching either. Do what you think is best, but just keep in mind that your actions might not impact the outcome.

My mother is pushing me to leave her to go live at either the Butterfly Estate or with Giyuu, but I just can't. Yeah, I might be at risk by sticking around, but at least I know that my mother will be alive. If my brother ends up having to be killed, then she would be the only one I have left. If I leave her... Then I would never know until it's too late. I'm scared to lose her, Tanji. Since most of my family live far from here, I don't talk to them as much, so I don't know them very well; I just don't love them as much as I love my mom.

Please don't come here just yet. If you go, then that means the Corps will be aware of this situation too and that's the last thing I want. I'll send you another letter if anything good happens."

Nezuko lowered the paper and Tanjirou looked at her, bewildered. "Is that all?"

She nodded solemnly and folded the note back into the envelope. Tanjirou stretched out his fingers in hoped that Nezuko would get the message, and she did, placing the material into his outstretched palm. Tanjirou felt the surface with his thumb and closed his eyes.

From beside him, Nezuko said confidently, "She will survive. She doesn't have it in her to let herself die!"

Tanjirou managed a smile— A weak one at that. What Nezuko said was true, but he couldn't stop himself from worrying. You were a soft soul, empathetic as well, and you had inherited your mother's weakness to stress. Tanjirou was concerned that the peer pressure of your needs and wants and the situation at hand would result in a breakdown or something similar. And Tanjirou knew that in the situation you were in, a breakdown would not benefit you in the slightest. It was not what you needed.

Tanjirou didn't know what to do. He wanted to beg his superiors to give him a few days break and go to see you, to help you, but he had specifically told by you to not do exactly that. Tanjirou felt as though you two were at a turning point in your.... Friendship. If he went to go save you, then he would be betraying you by going against your trust, but you would be safe. If he didn't go after you, then you would still be able to trust him, but then you wouldn't be safe. He was conflicted, and his head hurt. He knew what was best for you, but did you know what was best for you?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #tanjirou kamado #tanjiro kamado #tanjirou #tanjiro #x reader #anime #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #drabble #drabble fic #angst #fluff

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lov3nerdstuff · 5 years ago

Text

Somebody to love

Part 1 Part 2

Loki x reader

Imagine: After the New York attacks Loki is sent to prison in Asgard and you, his queen, are to be executed for helping him. Will you be able to save both of you in time?

Original request: @mirtaqueen Hi 😄 can I have a request , we are in thor2 and when Loki go to Odin in chains to talk to him, odin didn't say to him that he never see friga again but he say that marriage between reader and Loki is over and reader will be banish from asgard and that really hits Loki and brake him, so Loki try do everything to change odin mind, he will say with tears in the eyes that he can't take his queen from him and Frigga maybe say something and odin will change mind, pure fluff in the end 😄😄😄🙏

Words: 2.5k

Part: 1 / 2

A.N.: I just couldn't resist to make this story my own and do two parts 💗✨ I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you imagined, but I tried my best to do your awesome prompt justice 😄

"Your birthright was to die!" Odin shouted, sitting up straight in his throne and leaning forward as a gesture of attempted intimidation. His voice echoed so loudly through the room that it seemed to cut through the silence as he glared down at a chained Loki. "As a child… Cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."

Loki took a quick step forward and the guards jumped into action to hold him back by his chains. "If I'm for the act, then for mercy's sake just swing it." He looked down at his chained hands with a frown. "It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just…" His eyes shot back up to meet his father's. "I don't love them."

Odin leaned back in his throne, only acknowledging Loki's words with a dismissive look. "Y/n is the only reason you're still alive and you will never see her again."

Loki's expression went from boredom and anger to shock and sorrow, but Odin continued without a change in his demeanor. "You'll spend the rest of your days in the dungeons."

The guards started pulling Loki backwards by his chains, urging him to return to his prison.

"And what of y/n?!" Loki yelled and refused to be dragged back, leaning harshly into the restraining metal which left bruises wherever it dug into his lean body. The thought of what would happen to you now that he had been arrested had occurred to him before, but only now did he realize that the chances were high that he'd never see you again. And that, to him, was absolutely no option.

"Y/n will be executed for helping you. She asked me to let you live and take her life instead, which, after thinking it through, I agreed to."

Loki felt the tears stinging in his eyes even before Odin had finished the sentence. Oh, his sweet y/n… he equally loved and hated that about you. That you always put him first.

"You can't do that…" He said and his voice broke, just like his heart did. Shock numbed his body like a dive in icy water. "She doesn't deserve it."

"You, my son, do not deserve for her to be yours." Odin replied sharply. "She is way better than you will ever be."

"I know." Loki breathed, more to himself than as an actual answer. But then, through the sorrow and pain, he willed himself to fight, to beg even if it only would save you. "She is the future queen of Asgard, you can't execute her! She is your family too! I beg you, switch our fates and I shall do anything you ask of me."

"One day your brother will marry and give this kingdom the queen it deserves. Someone less cunning and less vain. Y/n doomed herself when she married you." Odin commented coldly.

If Odin's constant praise of Thor made Loki angry, him insulting you had Loki burning with rage like two damn gold particles smashed together.

"How dare you!" He yelled and lunged forward, the guards hardly able to hold him back with four men on each side. "She is my queen and if you dare harming her I swear I will end you and everyone who tries to stop me."

Odin instinctively jumped a little, but quickly covered it up by raising to his feet and striding down the steps to stand in front of Loki. "You are just as vain as her if you think that empty threats will stop me from separating the two of you." He said quietly.

Loki glared at him for a moment, but then grinned wickedly. "You are afraid of her! Y/n threatened you to agree to her wish!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Odin's voice thundered through the room, making the guards flinch. But not Loki. He knew what he needed to know and now was the time to plot.

With a small wave of his hand, Odin commanded the guards to return Loki to his cell and this time, he let it happen with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, and Loki… She will die in three days, at sunset." Odin added just before Loki was out of the room. And despite taking note of it, Loki's mind was too far gone to reply.

_______________

You were walking up and down in Loki's and your shared chamber, anxious and deep in thought. You hadn't had a chance to talk to Loki since he had been arrested. You must leave that to Odin, he was smart enough to realize that together, you and Loki would've plotted your escape long ago. But separated with no possibility to communicate, chances were high that this time he'd be able to keep Loki locked up for good. Locking you up, however, wasn't an option. You had your ways to escape and Odin knew that.

Before that, when you had heard that Odin wanted Loki executed, both you and Frigga, who you liked way better than Odin, had protested heavily.

But only upon your threat to reveal Odin's 'colorful' past to the entire kingdom, including his wife and sons, Odin finally agreed to have you executed instead. It hadn't been your intention to offer him your own death, but it was the only way to let Loki know you were working on something.

Rumor had it Odin had spoken with Loki in the throne room and you sincerely hoped that Loki had received your message.

Now all he needed to do was to wait and hope that you wouldn't screw up your plan.

You sat down on the bed and ran your hands through your hair. It all was such a mess… and only because that large purple asshole by the name of Thanos had gotten hold of you, tortured you and thereby forced Loki to attack midgard and convince everyone that it was him who wanted to rule over it. You sighed and absentmindedly traced your fingers over the already faint scar on your ribcage. The memory of Loki's panicked face when he had first found out what Thanos had done to you made your heart squeeze painfully. He'd been the closest to breaking you'd ever seen and the memory of it still stung. But then again, Loki and you had spent months of plotting to make sure to kill Thanos before he could hurt anyone else. That alone should be enough to be forgiven, but for the sake of universal peace, you had agreed to keep it to yourselves for now. After all, who'd believe you or even remotely understand what it had taken to end the titan? It was the single last advantage you had, the ace up your sleeve.

A knock on your door pulled you back to the present.

"Come in." You called and the door was opened slowly, revealing a servant girl. As your eyes met, she looked away quickly.

"Your majesty, I'm sorry for the interruption." She said quietly.

"It's fine, you're always welcome. But I told you a hundred times before to not call me 'your majesty'! I'm not the current queen and I'm not going to be one either." You laughed and waved the girl inside.

"I think you will be a wonderful queen one day, and prince Loki a great king." She said sincerely, and you felt bad that no one had told her the truth. It was a well-kept secret that neither of you would live to see that day.

"What's the news?" You asked overly cheerful.

The young girl smiled at you. "Her Royal Highness Queen Frigga wishes to speak with you."

"Ah." You smiled back as convincingly as you could in the dire light of your situation. "Just as I expected."

_______________

Loki was sitting in his white cell, eyes closed and trying to concentrate despite the awful noises the other prisoners were making. He'd cast an illusion of himself reading peacefully, because right now, he couldn't be bothered to answer to guards asking what he was up to. If he was honest with himself, he was equally proud and grateful that you were so incredibly clever: You had sent him a clear message and were working on getting him out of this mess. However he also felt utterly useless; every time something happened to him you were there to save his sorry ass in the last second, but when you were in danger, he felt like he failed you. You were so strong, his solid rock in a raging ride, and he was merely the pebble on the shore. He shook the thought out of his head.

Now, he needed to understand his part in the plan, the plan that most likely included some way to save him at any cost and if fate would allow it, also yourself. He'd never forgive himself if he survived and you didn't… without you, living wasn't worth a single thing. If only he could hold you in his arms one more time, kiss you with his last breath and tell you that he loves you more than words could fathom. If only he could be with you right now, somewhere far away… You should've ran when you still had the chance. But the chance was gone and he needed to act.

So he jumped to his feet and started pacing from wall to wall with a deep frown.

If you had found something you could use against Odin, that was a huge advantage. Loki didn't know what it was, but he could imagine that it didn't matter either. He trusted you and your judgement, maybe even more than his own in some cases.

First things first, he needed to make sure that you weren't harmed, maybe buy you some more time.

With a snap of his fingers the illusion vanished and he stepped towards the open end of his cell.

"I'd like to see my mother!" He called out to the guards down the hall. "I'd very much welcome it if you could send her to me."

_______________

A few minutes later Loki heard footsteps of approximately four people coming down the hallway towards him. When he looked up from his book he found that indeed, four people were standing in front of his cell. Three of them were guards and the fourth looked like his mother.

"Hello, dear…" She said and gave the guards a sign to open the barrier for her to enter, then a sign for them to leave. With a formal bow they hurried off back to their posts.

Loki walked closer to her until there were mere inches between the two of them.

"Hello y/n." He breathed with a slow smirk.

The illusion faltered and finally vanished, revealing your grinning face.

"How did I do?" You chuckled.

Loki grinned at you, opening his mouth to say something, but closed it again and shook his head slightly.

"Last time we met you couldn't do that little magic trick." He finally remarked, looking at you so adoringly that you felt your heart beat faster.

"Oh I can do way more than that." You winked. "Your mother has been teaching me for quite a while now… I wanted it to be a surprise, but then all this happened… and well. Surprise!"

"God, I love you so much…" He sighed and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, filled with the longing and despair of the last few days.

After what seemed like a little eternity of just holding each other, you finally pulled away.

"Listen, I know you will hate my plan, but you need to trust me with this. Okay?" You asked quietly, resting your forehead against Loki's.

"I always trust you, with everything I have." He said sincerely. "What do I need to do?"

_______________

A high pitched scream echoed around the dungeons, followed by heavy crying and finally, a loud cracking sound. When the guards came rushing towards the cell a few seconds later, they stopped dead in their tracks and stared into the cell. It was pitch black, holding a darkly opaque smoke inside.

"Loki, stop this nonsense!" One of the guards exclaimed. "We know of the illusional games you play! What's happening in there?"

The smoke slowly dissolved and the guards could see more and more of what was happening inside. There stood Loki, in the middle of the room, his clothes covered in blood and leisurely smirking at the guards. In front of him lay your dead body. Your neck was twisted in an unnatural way, and your wide eyes were staring lifelessly towards the guards. The once white walls of the cell were now bright red, smeared and covered in blood.

At the shocked glances of the guards, Loki merely smirked. "She was becoming beyond annoying, and she wasn't even supposed to be in here! I did you a favor!"

Immediately they opened the barriers, pushing Loki back into a corner with their spears while he had his hands risen in defeat, showing them he was no threat. A guard checked on your body while three others kept their weapons pointed at Loki.

Suddenly the barrier closed behind their backs, locking them into the cell. Shocked, they turned to see Loki and a perfectly alive y/n standing outside, smiling innocently at them while their doppelganger illusions dissolved inside the cell.

The guards shouted and tried to make the barriers go down again, but of course they failed miserably.

"Whew, that worked…" You chuckled, giving Loki a high-five.

"I'm so proud of you." He said and kissed your forehead. "My sweet little y/n can do magic now…"

You punched him in the shoulder with a small laugh. "Call me 'sweet and little' once more and I'll put you right back into that cell."

"Yes ma'am." He winked at you. "What's next? Do we run?"

You let out a small sigh, pulling him with you down the hallway and out of the dungeons. Just when you reached the top of the stairs, you stopped. With another sigh, you concentrated on the task at hand and changed your appearance to that of Loki, who stared at you in confusion.

"C'mon, we don't have a lot of time. From now on just go along with whatever happens, okay? I've got this figured out..." You said to Loki in his own voice, making him snort.

"Alright…" He sighed, changing into you.

"Promise me you won't freak and ruin the whole thing! Oh, and you should trust your mom. She's in on this. Now watch what would happen if we would just run." You said quietly just as a small army of guards came rushing towards you.

In the matter of mere seconds, they had you in chains and dragged you back down into the dungeons, while Loki was pushed towards the throne room. It all happened so fast that Loki couldn't even say goodbye. But one thing he was certain of: your plan was working and he didn't know if he liked it.

______________

This is part 1 of 2 so if you'd like to be tagged let me know down below ✨💚

Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille

#loki fanfic #loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki story #loki (marvel)#loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki x y/n #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you

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