#*sorry Pierre & Natasha. WHEN HE SPEAKS!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-a-word-2214 · 4 years ago

Text

Wise Beyond Her Years

summary: Pierre realizes he’s in love with his childhood best friend

pairing: Pierre Bezukhov x reader

word count: 1,489

warnings: fluff, soft Pierre moments

My dearest (Y/N),

Helene has become unbearable. She admitted to not wanting children although I persuaded her with having any amount of money she could ever want. I would like children one day, maybe Helene isn’t meant to be in my life after all. Thank you for listening.

Pierre Bezukhov

—————————————

As you carefully read Pierre’s letter, you cannot help but feel his unhappiness. He didn’t even originally want to marry Helene, her father thrust marriage upon them.

You’d known the man since you were children, you always felt a growing sense of love when you saw him but it was much more than a friendly love, it was a romantic one.

Once Pierre had come into the sum of his father’s inheritance, women were falling over themselves to get to him. It’s as if the socially awkward man they once saw had been erased from their minds.

He was still your Pierre though, the man that you loved and had since childhood. Your heart leaped anytime you saw him, but that was long ago. After getting thrown out of St. Petersburg, you hadn’t seen him in many months.

Once you received his letter, you immediately wrote back.

—————————————

Pierre,

I’m sorry to hear about your misfortune with Helene. Just know that there is a silver lining to your problems, my dear. You must come visit me, I get lonely most days without you here. The ice has frozen solid over the lake, it is now perfect for ice skating.

(Y/N) (L/N)

—————————————

The wind whipped through your hair as you skated across the frozen lake. Your warm coat kept out the cold. You skidded to a halt as you saw a figure in a fluffy ushanka marching towards you. It was Pierre, your Pierre.

He rushed towards you, nearly falling on his face. You met him in the middle, squeezing him tightly in a hug.

“Pyotr! So good to see you.” You exclaim, your mouth buried in the fur of his coat.

“Dearest (Y/N), it has been too long.” He mumbles into your hair as you pull away to look at him, your hands on his forearms.

“Come, let me show you how to skate.” You carefully pull him onto the ice with you as you skate backward, your eyes remaining on him. His gaze is wary as he slowly begins moving on the frozen water.

“This is much more fun than I ever anticipated.” He laughs softly as he looks down at his feet.

*******

Once you both return to the warmth of indoors, you take off your coat. You run your hands down the length of the smooth fabric of your dress. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you sit down next to the fire, the only sound being the popping of the fire.

“How have you been, (Y/N)?” Pierre startles you with his voice as he sits down in a chair next to you.

“Oh my! You gave me a fright.” You laugh softly as you put a hand to your chest.

“I’ve been lonely, Sonya and Natasha keep fine company but I miss our talks. I miss the way you used to make me laugh.” Your eyes flit to him, taking in his appearance. His hair a little longer than what you remember although the same glasses adorn his face.

“I see. I’ve missed you too, dearly. Helene only thinks of me as an oaf and a brute. She’s decided that she won’t mother any children either. The words she used were ‘you know I’m not the motherly type.’” He sighs, running a hand over his face.

“You deserve someone who will treat you better, Pierre. A kind woman who will happily bear your children.” You gently take his hand, he looks down at it. His eyes turn to you as he moves your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly.

Your breath catches in your throat as you turn to look away, your cheeks dusted with a faint blush.

“Pierre, you always flatter me.” You whisper as a smile graces your lips.

“You know that I’ve always found you to be wise beyond your years. You’re extraordinary! I’m four years your senior and yet you could outsmart me in almost any situation.” He’s doting on you now, making wild gestures with his hands. It always humored you when he became over dramatic.

“Oh, stop it Pierre. You’re too kind.” You laugh softly as he stands up, pulling you with him by your hands.

“It beguiles me that you can’t see your worth. You deserve a good man, (Y/N).”

*******

Pierre begins writing to you once more after he sees you. He would tell you about how many times Helene would be out and about and how each time he was more and more tempted into divorcing her.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was the truth of him finding out that Fedya Dolokhov, his own friend, was having an affair with Helene. Her restless behavior when he was around made sense now.

Pierre had challenged Dolokhov to a duel, in which he won. It was a miracle that he remained unscathed through it all. He wrote to you about his good fortune and each day after that. He began writing so often that you couldn’t keep up.

—————————————

My dearest (Y/N),

There is a ball being held soon. I would hope that you would be in attendance. This will be one of the first times that I make an appearance in public after separating from Helene. Please consider my proposal.

Pierre Bezukhov

—————————————

The thought of seeing Pierre again enticed you enough to bare the festivities of aristocratic life. With a heavy sigh, you prepared for the ball that’s taking place in the evening.

*******

The gold that lined the walls of the palace was illuminated as the darkness from outside seeped in. Everyone looked regal in their white clothes, especially the girls who lined up to meet their suitors.

You stood by your lonesome with your parents at your side as you surveyed the crowd. Andrei was somewhere in the crowd along with Pierre. You followed their gaze to see Natasha playfully looking away from their watchful eyes.

You felt wrong for coming, you felt like a fool. Of course Pierre could never love you when he was always so close with Natasha. Tears filled your eyes as you rushed off to another part of the palace, leaving your parents and the emotions of the ballroom behind.

You cried softly as you sunk to the floor, the only other bodies in the room being that of the footmen. The sound of boots against the tile filled your ears as you remained in your previous position.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? What is the matter?” Pierre squatted down to your level as he beckoned you to look at him.

“I saw the way you looked at her, you love her don’t you?” You sniffled as you whipped your head up to look at him.

He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, at a loss for words.

“...Never mind.” He stands up again as he begins to pace the small space.

“Never mind what? What is it, Pierre?” You demand as you approach him.

“I don’t love her, I love you.” He blurts out, his eyes a mix of fear and sadness.

You choose your words before vocalizing them.

“I love you too, Pierre. Ever since we were little.” You whisper the last part, staring at your shoes. He pulls you closer to him, his hands on either side of your face. He leans down and captures your lips in his own. The kiss is tender and soft as your lips move together as one.

Once you finally part, you feel as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Your feelings no longer harbored, now out in the open.

“I’m delighted to hear that you feel the same way. Now, might you allow me the honor of dancing with you? If you’ll have me, that is.” He holds out his hand to you. You take it without a second thought, his deft, gloved fingers warm in your own.

He leads you out to the ballroom, this time your view of it is different. The faces seem a little more welcoming and you now notice just how handsome Pierre looks in his pale grey jacket. His eyes never leave yours as he holds you close. A slow melody fills the air as you hold him close.

Your hand in his, the other on his shoulder. You feel peace for the first time in years as you gaze at the man who loved you in return. That’s all you ever wanted in the end, is to be loved and love in return.

This was just the beginning of your new life with Pierre. Just the start of something wonderful.

#paul dano x reader #paul dano #pierre bezukhov #pierre bezukhov x reader #war and peace 2016 #war and peace

214 notes · View notes

bastardtetsu · 4 years ago

Text

{day 07} charming | saeko x reader

pairing: tanaka saeko x f!reader

genre: fluff, gay tension, saeko tries to do her brother a solid by talking to a girl for him but that plan backfires

wc: ~800

warnings: f!reader, shameless flirting, doing tanaka ryu absolutely dirty

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

you are such a lovely thing oh, where have you been? it's such a shame to bury pearls in the country

—charming; natasha, pierre, & the great comet of 1812 (music & lyrics by dave malloy)

it’s a sunday afternoon, and you have the house to yourself to try on the new clothes you’d just bought. the dresses are far from casual, but that just gives you more reason to twirl around in them, putting on a show for yourself in the mirror as you imagine yourself as a movie star or an elegant countess - until a loud knock at the door interrupts your reverie.

rushing to the door, you throw it open to reveal a familiar blonde standing there, her thumb tucked into her belt loop, hip cocked casually to the side. saeko’s eyes glimmer as they take in your appearance.

“well hello,” she drawls, sizing you up, “what do we have here?”

“oh, i—“ you stammer, suddenly remembering your attire, “sorry, i was just trying some stuff on—“

“no worries,” saeko interjects, taking a step closer to make her way inside, “it suits you.”

your cheeks flush with warmth as she grins at you, unsure of what to say as she breezes her way in.

though you had met, you don’t exactly know saeko well. you go to school with her younger brother, but you’ve only had a few conversations with him since he always seems really tense and awkward when speaking to you. you’d seen saeko around too, even spoken to her a few times at social events, but nothing more.

you can’t imagine what could’ve prompted her to show up at your door like this - all you know is that she and her brother share the same fiery stare, and that for some reason it intimidates you more when it’s coming from her.

“ooh, these are some nice dresses!” she muses upon seeing your new purchases laid out. then, with a mischievous glance, “you got somewhere to wear ‘em to?”

“n-not in particular,” you falter, eyes falling to the floor nervously. you can still feel the heat of her keen stare as you fiddle with the fabric draping your body.

saeko smiles, taken by your bashfulness. you really do look stunning in that dress.

“i can see why ryu likes you.”

“huh?” your eyes shoot back up to meet hers.

“i had lunch with him yesterday,” she continues without missing a beat, “poor thing hardly ate, he wouldn’t shut up about you!! he’s been too scared to talk to you, but he wouldn’t leave me alone until he convinced me to come over here and talk to you for him - what a dork, right? and besides,” she adds, leaning in closer to whisper, “he should be more careful, or i just might steal you for myself.”

your face is burning now, heart pounding in your chest as you try to process all the information you just received, on top of the red-hot stare boring into you as you try to get your bearings.

you hadn’t realized your classmate had feelings for you like that - that would certainly explain his odd behavior with you - however, it’s difficult to think about that (or anything else, for that matter) with his intimidatingly attractive sister staring you down hungrily, her face just inches away from yours.

suddenly, she throws her head backwards in a boisterous laugh.

“you’re so cute when you’re blushing!” she exclaims, before flashing another cheeky grin, “you’re a charmer, you know that?”

“um… thank you,” you respond tentatively, still flustered. is she joking or being serious? you can’t tell.

“listen,” she says, shifting closer to you again, “if you need somewhere to wear that dress, we’re having a party tonight at our place. you should come!” then with a wink, “you’ll be the prettiest one there.”

“oh, um,” you stumble over your words. saeko can’t help but grin at your reaction, mesmerized by your wide, awestruck eyes.

“so, what do you say?” she purrs.

“i…” you hesitate. the situation is still a bit confusing, but her unabashed confidence and carefree attitude give you a strange sense of comfort as her intense stare melts away your reservations. “sure,” you answer.

“great!!!” she exclaims loudly. you aren’t quite sure who you’re saying yes to - saeko or her brother - but you can’t help but smile back at her enthusiasm. as she pulls you into a tight hug, you can feel her breasts squeezing against your body, separated by just a few layers of fabric. heat rises through your body again at the sensation.

“ryu’s gonna be thrilled,“ she says, before a wry smirk befalls her face, eyes meeting yours with another heated stare. the slender but surprisingly strong arms encircling you tighten their grip. “at least for now.”

those wide eyes of yours are gonna be the death of her.

a/n: so uhhhh yeah sorry tanaka, this is just me being h word for saeko and amber gray at the same time… technically this song isn’t supposed to be gay but personally i feel to believe otherwise !! anyways if you haven’t heard of great comet i definitely recommend checking it out — definitely an all time favorite show, plus i’ll be posting my terushima fic based on another song from it soon! :)

taglist: @izagraceee @musicgetsmeoutofbed @azo-musxas @tsumurai

#tanaka saeko #saeko x reader #saeko tanaka x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#25 days of ficmas #e writes #.txt

75 notes · View notes

irreplaceable-ecstasyy · 4 years ago

Note

Could we perhaps get a part 2 to the Marya and Helene running away fic?!

YOU WANTED A PART 2?!?! I GIVE YOU A PART 2!!! SORRY FOR THE WAIT BUT HERE IT IS!!! <3

Part 1 here

Vanya Vorobev trudged her way through inches of snow after a long day at work, boots heaving to free themselves from the ground that trapped them. Snow coated her short locks of red hair that pooled at her shoulders unceremoniously in a mess of tangles and knots. How dreadful the winters could be. It was no different than what she had had in Moscow and her dislike for these horrid days only grew. If work had ended any earlier, she would have beat the stir of the oncoming blizzard but here she was battling her way through with the residue of her strength. A full day’s sewing garments had drained her but there was something that kept her going. Or to be more precise, someone. Someone at home waiting to welcome her with open arms and preferably a cup of hot tea laced with rum to shake the cold away.

The walk to work was never an issue for the morning weather was always pleasant but it was always unkind during the evening. Work was even more unpleasant for her supervisor would never allow her colleagues and herself off early. The weather was no excuse to dismiss everyone early as they had deadlines to meet and quotas to fulfil, both which Vanya despised with all her being. She had filed complaints before to her higher ups but was met with harsh laughs and mockery for being so bold. They would jest at her for being a woman then threaten her with their class and gender. God, how she despised those pesky imbeciles and their horrid perverted words. She always gave in and she hated it. If only they knew the power she possessed. What she once had before this life but she had left all that behind for this one and she did not regret it for a moment.

Amidst the blizzard, her eyes were squinted to see through the haze of white, a hand raised to shield the snowflakes that might obscure her vision. Aggressively, she stormed through the building blanket of snow at her feet, unbothered by the way the cold seeped into her boots. Warmth awaited her as a reward for her efforts and a little water never hurt. Eventually, she defeated the storm. She collided against the gate of her home with a soft grunt then yanked it open after fumbling about with the lock. As she stepped into her garden, the gate slammed shut behind her with a very unsatisfying thud and that was when the door of her home swung open. She bolted towards the entrance and was greeted by a graceful breeze of warm air blowing in her face, accompanied by the scent of soup and fresh bread.

The door closed and Vanya was engulfed in a warm embrace. A face pressed against her back, arms wrapped around her waist in a firm hold and a light giggle filled the air. Sighing softly, Vanya leaned into the arms of her lover… her wife, to be more precise… and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder at the head of curls in her line of vision. Roza Sorokina Vorobev. Or, Hélène Vasilyevna Akhrosimova, as we all know. Vanya Marya turned around and pulled Hélène into her arms, burying her face in her hair to take her all in. Hélène moved her hands to hold Marya’s cheeks within her hands, lifting her head to kiss her gently on the lips which Marya happily returned. They had been deprived of affection for too long. Yes, in their terms, a day was long. The kiss lasted for a while then it was followed by another and then another one until Hélène pulled away to speak.

“How was your day at work?” Hélène murmured as she removed Marya’s bonnet, tossing it onto the couch lazily.

“Awful as always. Today could have been worse but thank heavens for my colleagues. My supervisor insisted that we worked until the wind died down but we demanded that we returned home since we weren’t getting paid for overtime,” Marya told her with a scoff.

“What did your colleagues do that saved your day?” Hélène inquired, taking Marya’s coat to hang it up on the coat rack.

“They had my back,” Marya simply answered.

Raising a brow, Hélène’s gaze followed the woman as she walked to the kitchen to help with dinner that was still cooking. “Okay. What did you do?”

“I raised my voice.” Marya shot Hélène a smirk and it earned her a small round of an applause.

“How terrifying~ Oh, you’re truly my feisty dragon!” Hélène exclaimed.

Marya picked up a spoon, stirring it in the air dramatically. “If there’s anything I’ve kept from my previous life, it’s that name,”

“I’m not complaining. I adore it.”

“Keep it in your pants, Kuragina.”

Hélène hugged Marya from behind and kissed the back of her neck. “It’s actually Akhrosimova now~”

“Oh?” Marya smirked lightly. “How cute.”

“You’re not supposed to praise your own name.”

“I was praising you, stupid.”

“Ah. Thank you~ I appreciate it very much.”

“You had better.”

Marya abandoned dinner just for a moment to attend to her wife, drawing her into her arms to press a kiss to her lips. She ran her hands through Hélène’s curls and rested her forehead against hers gently. Hélène hummed softly against Marya’s lips and cupped her cheeks delicately. Before they could lean in for another kiss, a voice cried out. A loud shrill sob filled the house and Marya pulled away from Hélène to look towards the corridor where the cry had come from. Hélène acted quickly. After a kiss to Marya’s cheek, she dashed down the corridor and entered a room that appeared to be where the wailing came from. It went quiet, save for the occasional sniffles and reassuring whispers, and Hélène came out of the room carrying a little girl who was no more than the age of 3. Their little girl.

Her cheeks were stained with tears pouring down, eyes red rimmed from crying too hard and her little fists clutched Hélène’s blouse tightly. When the little one saw Marya, her face lit up and she held her arms out to her with grabby hands, finger wriggling insistently for Marya to pick her up. Children were funny little beings. Their moods could switch within a matter of minutes and Marya was not one to complain for she found it very easy to figure her way around the ways of parenting. The girl squealed in excitement as Marya plucked her from Hélène’s arms and she buried her face against the woman’s neck where she was perfectly comfortable. Hélène stood beside Marya, a hand on their daughter’s back to trace circles in a comforting manner, and she smiled at her wife.

Etoile Kuragina Akhrosimova. That was her name of their little one. She was not their biological daughter but they loved her as their very own. They had adopted her on the day she was born. Prior to her date of birth, a co-worker had confided in Marya about an unplanned pregnancy which peaked Marya’s interests. All it took was a question, one that changed her to love not only as a wife but as a mother. This colleague of hers trusted Marya with the birth of a new life and she had never been more honored to have the privilege of raising a child of her own with the woman that she loved. This was God’s greatest gift to them, a sign that he had given his blessing and Marya, until this day, was eternally grateful. She prayed to God every night, thanking him for all that he has given them and praising his generosity. There was nothing more in the world that she wanted.

“She’s been asking for you all day and when the blizzard came, she thought you were never coming back,” Hélène stated quietly, a solemn look settling upon her features.

“Oh… Poor dear. Please don’t tell me she’s been crying all day.” Marya looked at Etoile who was beaming up at her, her wet cheeks dried from rubbing her face against her mother’s shoulder.

“She didn’t, and thank goodness for that… She started crying when you did not show up on time. Sat in that very spot”- Hélène motioned vaguely to the sitting room- “and stared at the clock for hours.”

Etoile held up two fingers. “You said 4… You came back at 8.”

“I’m so sorry, Etoile. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Marya cooed softly then kissed the little girl’s cheek.

“Promise?” Etoile lifted her pinkie finger which Marya hooked her own pinkie around with a smile.

“I promise.”

Etoile was more than pleased. She hugged Marya tightly and nuzzled against her neck, tucking her head in between the crook of her shoulder and neck. Hélène giggled softly and wrapped her arms around the both of them, her little family. Every day was just perfect among the three of them; though, they did yearn the company of their families back in Moscow, the place that was once their home. Marya missed her goddaughters as well as her old friend, Pierre. She wrote to them as frequently as she could but with how letters were being tracked, it would risk revealing their location to those who were searching for them so her stuck to a quota of two letter per month; three in case of emergencies or festivities.

It had already been two months since Marya sent her letters to her dear family but it was not forgetfulness that created the hiatus. It was the incredibly patient wait both her and Hélène had to endure as well as the receiving end of the letter which consisted of Pierre and Natasha who branched out to Sonya and Mary. Hélène’s receiving end consisted of her brother, Anatole, whose letters also were addressed to Dolokhov. Waiting was never a simple task, unless one were disciplined like Marya or as easily entertained as Etoile. Hélène was terrible at passing time and two months had felt like an entire year to her. On the bright side of things, she did not have to wait any longer.

A knock echoed through the house and it was followed by a drumming of fists that were much gentler than the former. The door rattled with every knock, especially with the overly-enthusiastic rhythm and Marya feared that the door might cave in soon. Hélène went to answer the door hurriedly for she did not want their guests standing in the middle of a snowfall for too long, Etoile waddling closely behind her after Marya had settled her down to lay out the table. When the door swung open, Hélène was greeted by a pair of arms flinging over her shoulders which pulled her into the tightest but warmest hug she had ever received in a long time.

“Vanya! It’s so good to see you again!” Natasha exclaimed but she paused her excitement. “Wait… Or is it Roza?”

“It’s Roza, ma charmante.” Hélène leaned in to whisper into the young girl’s ear. “But it’s exclusively Hélène for the lot of you~”

Natasha beamed and squeezed Hélène tighter in the hug. “It’s been so long!”

“It has! Your godmother and I are so happy to have you here.” Hélène noticed the way Pierre shuffled awkwardly beside Natasha and she pulled away from Natasha to greet him with a hug. Baffled, Pierre wrapped his arms around her and patted her shoulder. “Hello, Pierre. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Elena. Hélène… Uh- Roza,” Pierre stammered but he was smiling in amusement. “I apologize. You have quite a number of names and you didn’t specify which to use in any letters.”

“Hélène will do, my dear. I see you haven’t changed at all,” Hélène jested as she nudged him gently in the side with her knuckle.

“And neither have you,” Pierre jabbed back. His eyes widened at the sight of Etoile clinging onto her mother’s skirts, head peeking out from where she stood behind Hélène and he knelt down. “Is this little Etoile?”

Natasha gasped, a hand flying to her lips. “Oh, she’s gorgeous. Hi there.”

Etoile’s eyes twinkled in curiosity and pure joy to see the people that Hélène had shown her before in photographs. It was as if her picture books had come to life. She waved at Natasha then approached her slowly. These people in front of here were her own relatives she was meeting, other people who she could consider her family aside from her mothers. Leaping with joy, she buried herself against Natasha in what was supposed to be a hug and she stayed in Natasha’s fur coat for a while. Her fists clutched the furs and Natasha picked her up with a light giggle. Pierre watched them fondly and he placed a fairly large hand on Etoile’s back, rubbing circles in a familiar and comforting manner.

“She’s an angel,” Natasha swooned as she leaned into Pierre who kissed her forehead.

“She gets that from her mother,” Hélène said as she motioned to the kitchen where Marya came rushing out.

“Natasha, darling! How wonderful it is to see you! And Pierre, old friend, you’re looking well!” Marya cheered as she drew the two of them into a welcoming hug.

Pierre grinned at the sight of his dear friend. “Marya, it’s good to see you”- He was startled when Natasha interjected.

“Marya! Where have you been? It’s rude to be late. You taught me that lesson yourself,” Natasha scolded her godmother mockingly.

“I know I did but truth be told, I just got back home a while ago and I had dinner to prepare. Please excuse this minor inconvenience. I promise, it won’t happen again,” Marya swore.

“It better not. Now come give your favorite goddaughter a hug!” Natasha bounced into Marya’s outstretched arms and Etoile was sandwiched comfortably between the two ladies before Natasha passed the little one to her mother.

“Sit down at the dining table, my dears. Food is ready. We can’t have it going cold,” Marya insisted as she ushered her guests to the kitchen. “Hélène, dear, could you close the door?”

Hélène complied and skipped to the door to shut it as she was told but stopped when she saw four figures in the snow making their way to the door. Two men clumsily kicking through the snow and two women walking like completely normal humans with their arms linked. One of them, the tallest male of the lot, was mocking one of the ladies for her height and this small lady happened to be the smallest of the group. From what Hélène could see, she had quite a feisty attitude and very quick retaliation. As this tall figure ruffled the shorter figure’s hair, the shorter one struck, the back of her hand whipping the taller’s side swiftly and it elicited a loud high-pitched whine that Hélène knew all too well.

“Told you to stop bullying her,” Dolokhov laughed as he hit the taller man’s head.

“It’s not my fault that she can’t take a joke.” Anatole rubbed the back of his neck, scoffing at his companion before side-eyeing Sonya who was glaring daggers at him.

“Can we please be civil?” one of the girls squeaked out meekly, specifically Mary Bolkonsky who was clinging onto Sonya’s arm for dear life. “Marya won’t appreciate this behavior.”

“I doubt she’d appreciate anything we do,” Dolokhov added.

“Would you guys rather argue in the snow or come inside?” Hélène called out to the group which caught their attention and Anatole gasped.

“Sister! Oh, dear god, it is so good to see you alive and well,” Anatole cheered as he abandoned Dolokhov’s side to race up to his sister, swooping her in his arms for a big bear hug. “How are you?”

Hélène squeezed her younger brother with love as she leaned into the hug. “I’m fantastic! I’m glad to see you! Fedya, Sonya, Mary. Welcome!”

“All attention on me, please?” Anatole requestion politely and Hélène pinched his cheek.

“You always were a joker. Come in, otherwise I might get a scolding from Marya for leaving the door open for too long.” Hélène moved out of the way, allowing the group to come in.

“And now for my turn!” Dolokhov declared and embraced his friend, one hand tossing his coat right onto the rack with precision (finally living up to his name of being a crazy good shot).

Hélène could have sworn she heard Dolokhov sniffle but crying would be quite uncharacteristic of him. No matter the circumstances, Fedya Dolokhov never cried. The winter wind might have caught him with a cold which was not very good. Hélène did not want anyone to return to Moscow with a burning fever. That would mean that they failed to be hospitable. But once more, crying and falling ill were not words in the vocabular of Dolokhov. If either of that happened in one day, then something must be wrong. For all Hélène knew, she could be in another universe but that was irrelevant. Why fret now?

“My dear Feddy. How have you been?” Hélène purred.

“Never better. Has Marya been taking care of you?” Dolokhov asked as he threw a look over Hélène’s shoulder.

“That is your biggest concern? Of course, she has! She pampers me a lot,” Hélène answered dreamily.

“Good! I actually wrote her a letter asking if she was and she only responded with “Dear Fyodor, we are fine. Stop wasting parchment paper, yours truly, Marya D,” Dolokhov storied.

Hélène snorted and laughed. “Ah- I’m aware of that. She wasn’t very pleased by your doubts in her.”

“I’m just concerned!” Dolokhov debated and scowled.

“I know you are. Now, stop sulking and make yourself at home. You’ve received your attention. I have other guests to attend to.”

“Yes, ma’am~”

Dolokhov skipped off with a hum as Hélène watched in amusement, shaking her head lightly. As for the two very similarly quaint and bashful ladies, Hélène also gave them a hug. They were not close but they appreciated affection as a warm welcome, metaphorically and physically, after bickering in the snow and troika ride for too long. Marya, despite her well-known dislike for Dolokhov and Anatole, had shown an accepting attitude as she greeted them with a handshake far too polite for the occasion. At least she allowed them to touch her hand with their icy ones, unless one were to count the fact that she was wearing mittens to avoid direct contact.

Etoile, who had been in Marya’s arms, demanded for Anatole to carry her and without hesitation, the man picked up his niece and twirled around the room with delight. The blonde had screamed, “Is this my beloved niece?!” as he spun which sent Etoile and Hélène into a fit of giggles. As much as she trusted her brother, Hélène still had to keep an eye on his as he played about with her daughter. He could get a little too absorbed in his own mind to consider caution. At the same time, the sight of her own brother and daughter bonding brought tears of joy to her eyes.

Dolokhov slid into a vacant seat at the dining table beside Sonya who groaned loudly in dismay for him to hear and Natasha laughed opposite them. Mary looked away, girding herself. Pierre waved to them awkwardly and pushed his falling glasses up his nose, scrunching it from how his glasses slid off his nose once more. The house was filled with Etoile’s giggling and cheering as Anatole spun around the room with her. Her cheers were contrasted by the quiet hissing and snapping from Dolokhov and Sonya who had decide to strike up another petty argument over Dolokhov’s manners. Oh, the joy to have the familiarity of the orchestra of sounds Hélène and Marya had been so used to in Moscow. They never thought that they would ever have the homeliness of Moscow in their own house but with this family of theirs, they brought the entirety of their home with them.

In all honesty, Marya did miss the ambience of Moscow. She would never forget it though. The gossips, the opera, the parties. They were all part of her being. She stood at the kitchen door with great fondness for everyone in the room, breathing in a refreshing whiff of air. It would have been nice if it were not for Anatole’s overwhelming perfume but it would do. Clapping her hands together, she sat at the table and everyone sat to join her.

“I won’t speak long. I’m sure everyone is hungry a long journey but I would like to thank you all for coming such a long distance to see Hélène and I. We have missed every single one of you dearly and I don’t think there’s a day that is more blessed than today. I hope we can gather like this more frequently in the future. But for now, we will cherish what we have,” Marya spoke, glancing at Hélène who was swooning over her. “Enjoy your dinner and may god bless you all.”

“God bless you too,” Mary chimed in her seat and when everyone turned to look at her, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“How adorable,” Hélène cooed.

“If you responded like her, maybe you’d be adorable too,” Marya interjected which earned her a frown.

“Are you saying I’m not adorable?” Hélène gasped dramatically.

“And we eat!” Dolokhov interrupted which worked like a charm.

So, they ate their dinner as one loving family. Hélène had Etoile sat on her lap as she fed the little girl. While so, they chatted with Anatole and Dolokhov in their weirdly positioned triangle but it worked. Natasha, Sonya and Mary shared their own triangle where they whispered and giggled in soft whispers in stark comparison to the other trio but neither groups were bothered. Marya was far too busy for a conversation as she was gazing at Hélène who was speaking to their daughter and feeding her with some bread and soup. Her daughter and her wife. Her heart was so full and with everyone here with them, she felt as though she might just pass out from the joy. She could very well but she did not wish to make a fool of herself.

And Pierre. Dear old Pierre. He observed his old friend and his former betrothed with an easy smile that came to his lips, distracted to the point he had forgotten about his dinner. He had never seen Marya so romantically endearing nor had he ever seen her openly display her emotions towards Hélène who she had once despised with every bit of her soul. Hélène was kinder now; much more kinder than she used to be when she carried the title of ‘The Queen of Society’. The title she held now was different, a better one for a change. She was now a mother and a wife to the woman she loved, and my God did that make Pierre proud of his intervention in their plans to grant them such happiness. He too had found his own happiness fairly quickly with Natasha which he was grateful for. It appeared that everyone at the dining table found their happy endings, or beginnings.

A curious thought. He wondered how things had been if he had refused to help Marya and Hélène flee Moscow to start anew. Would they be this happy, decently happy to an extent or miserable? Pierre was not willing to make a bet. Whatever it was, he appreciated the moment. He thanked the Lord above who gifted them this life and began to eat when Natasha tapped his shoulder for his attention. All was well.

#nat.txt #marya dmitryevna akhrosimova #marya dimitrievna #helene kuragina #helene kuragin #maryalene #marlene #the great comet #the great comet of 1812 #Natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812 #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #runaway fic #nat.writes

15 notes · View notes

peachyteabuck · 5 years ago

Text

pull you out of here

summary: asgard needs a queen, thor wishes to defy his father, and you seem to be the solution to both

pairing: dark!thor odinson x reader

words: 4,971

trigger warnings: dark possessive thor, stalking, emotional manipulation, heavy dubcon, smut, slight breeding kink, heavy angst, cheating, unhealthy relationships

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

To say that Thor was mad would be an understatement. To say Frigga cared would be a complete lie.

“He’s trying to get me to marry, Mother,” he nearly screams. Nonetheless, the woman remains calm. “To cede some of my power to some woman!”

Frigga watches her son stomp around her chambers with a watchful eye, never moving from her seat across the room. She’s watched her son – her lovely, wonderful son – perform this long-winded act many times before; when Loki came into their lives, whenever Frigga had to force them to share. Thor, in classic eldest-sibling fashion, thoroughly disliked anyone impeding on what he thought to be his.

His toys, his room, his room, his power. All of it, everything he wished for, was his.

This included his throne, apparently, as is made obvious by his red-faced rambling.

“What, is he going to pluck some maiden from the streets of Asgard? Make her some puppet for during in my rule?” he’s stomping now, nearly spitting.

He stays like that – acting the same way he did when Loki stole a single potato from his plate when he was old enough to walk and talk and feel but young enough to not have a single muscle on his lanky body.

Just like usual, he eventually tires himself out, using his last bit of energy to bark in the general direction of a servant to get him some ale. He sits in the chair across from his mother, elbow resting on his knees.

Thor’s voice is quieter now, much more pensive. “Mother, what am I going to do?”

Frigga waits for the servant to bring the large drink and for Thor to gulp half of it down before responding. “What you father wants is for you to have a bride – it’s important to the people you rule over. What your father wants –“

“Is for me to give my power to some woman,” Thor scoffs into his drink. “I’m aware.”

Frigga rolls her eyes. “No, darling. What your father wants is to make sure the woman is to his tastes.”

Her son scoffs. “What does that mean?”

“It means, if you picked a woman from say,” the woman shrugs. “Midgard, then he wouldn’t be able to say no to her for fear of backlash from the Asgardians,” Thor smiles as she continues talking, now understanding. “They love their humans, you know.”

They laugh together, happy as their devised their plan: Thor would leave the next day for Midgard, spend some time there, woo some woman he knows will not impede too much into his duties as king.

So, when Thor saw you in that faded orange cardigan, the leggings that showed off your thick thighs, and a well-loved t-shirt that looked incredibly soft with your hair piled on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your feet and you yawning so adorably as you waited for your coffee to be finished, he knew he had to have you. Sure, maybe he was being shallow when he thought about being buried between your thick thighs or laying on your large breasts, and maybe he should’ve learned more about your personality before calling you his “dream girl.” But still, he knew you were the one and he needed to get you to fall in love with him ASAP.

There were a few problems with this mission:

First: he didn’t know your name, your job in the tower, or how to find you. He knew you as “the adorable one who likes coffee,” which doesn’t narrow it down, especially because they were in New York and more specifically Stark Tower, where everyone within city limits was running on two gallons of coffee, anxiety, and institutional access to research databases.

Second: after pestering every Avenger he could find, Thor found out that you had a boyfriend. A long-term one, too. About five years is what Steve begrudgingly told Thor after the God broke into his personal gym during his morning run on the treadmill (that day it was hailing, and Captain America will put up with a lot – but he refuses to get hit in the face with golf-ball sizes sphere of ice). A few minutes later, Barton (who admitted very quickly to listening through the vents) told Thor that rumor had it he was going to propose pretty soon – had picked the ring and restaurant out but hadn’t booked the reservation.

Third: very soon after learning that you were taken, Thor also learned that he would likely be spending a lot of time with you since where you worked and his favorite place ended up being the exact same. Tony’s personal lab (where he often worked with Bruce), was pretty much where you lived. Your official job description was akin to “personal librarian,” which meant keeping the lab orderly so Tony could on inventing things (or whatever else it is he does). Once, about a day before Pepper decided to hire someone, Tony spent four hours sorting screws.

Four. Entire. Hours.

You, with your degree in IT and concentration in database creation and management, were perfect for the job. He was even allowing you to use his lab for research – making you a pioneer in a field you didn’t realize existed until LexisNexis contacted you asking to moonlight as a consultant during their company-wide restructuring.

Some (mostly those who interviewed for the job and didn’t get it) called you a glorified assistant, a nanny whose only job was to clean up toys. Still, Tony spoke highly of you during parties and interviews and whenever anyone complimented his lab.

Given your dedication to your work, a few months in Tony offered you an apartment a few floors down. It was newly renovated, and since most Stark employees lived in Stark Industries-subsidized housing not located within HQ, you lived mostly secluded from everyone else.

To you, it was amazing. You never had to see anyone you didn’t intend to and you never had to brave the famously-bad New York winter weather just to go to bed. In all honesty, it was your dream life.

Thor, though, had to disagree. It made it impossible to “bump into you,” he never saw you when you weren’t working (you made it very clear you preferred to either a) work in silence or b) listen to music or an audiobook you picked). Even if he managed to catch a glimpse of you on your lunch break, you always seemed to be more interested in something else – a book, a conversation, whatever. Never, ever, did he seem to be able to catch you off guard.

About a week in, he realized this would be much harder than he originally thought.

Over the course of six months, Thor learned a few things:

First: you really like to read. He ends up asking Natasha (arguably the person you’re closest with) about every book you like in an attempt to have something to talk about.

Second (before he wanted to talk to you about the Poisonwood Bible but after he finally got Natasha to crack): You really don’t like your boyfriend, and your boyfriend doesn’t really seem to like you. When he asks why you two are still dating, Natasha just shrugs sadly.

“That’s a story for her to tell, not me, Odinson,” she said.

Third (the next morning, he sniffed around the kitchen to find anyone who would tell him anything about you): You were incredibly insecure about your body. He learned that from Steve. He learned from Sam that this was why you stayed with your emotionally distant romantic partner; because you thought you couldn’t find anyone better.

This, of course, was a lot of information to handle at once. So Thor did what a bunch of bubbly college students on YouTube called “mind-maps” so he could sort out his thoughts. What started as a fresh, clean, white sheet of graph paper ended up being a masterplan to win you over.

Step 1: Have a solid conversation with you

This happens much faster than expected. The next morning, to be exact. It’s sort of warming up, so you’re wearing a thin pullover and a pair of tight, light grey jeans. The pullover has some Midgardian logo on it, one Thor doesn’t recognize. When you turn around as you wait for the coffee machine, he asks you about it.

“What’s on your…” he gestures to said logo.

You smile bashfully, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s, uh, it’s just some concept art for a book I like. ”

Thor beams. He knows he’s got you. “What book?”

You shrug, grabbing the pot and pouring the steaming liquid into your peach pink travel mug. “It’s called Nothing, it’s by Janne Teller…

From there, you and him talk about what’s possibly the darkest book of all time. You explain to him the plot, the emotion it evokes from you. It truly is your favorite piece of literature; you really could talk about it for hours.

So, you do. Over your morning coffee, then a larger-than-usual breakfast, and then lunch. You make grilled cheese and tomato soup, biting every few sentences.

“God, my favorite line, like of the entire book is like,” you take a bite, chewing as you speak. “So Pierre is talking to these kids, and this one kid is Muslim, and gave up the prayer mat, or rather was made to give up his prayer mat. And Pierre is like ‘what price was your faith?’ And that line has like, continued to haunt me. It’s just,” you swallow. “What price do we pay to prove ourselves to others, you know?”

Thor listens intently as you speak, nodding and smiling as you go on. It’s amazing how much someone lights up when they talk about something they’re passionate about. It’s probably mid-afternoon when you finally realize that you’ve been talking for literal hours.

“Oh my god,” you gush, collecting the dishes and placing them in the sink. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been-”

Thor grabs your wrist, bunching at the sleeve. “No, please do not apologize. I have been meaning to talk to you for a long time.”

You blush, not meeting his eyes. “Why would someone like you want to talk to someone like me…”

That’s sort of when Thor’s suave facade cracks a little. You’re everything he’s ever wanted in a partner. Literally ever. And your inability to see that troubles him deeply.

“My dear, you’re so smart and quick and eloquent,” he tells you, never break eye contact. “Don’t even think I don’t want to be around you.”

You blush, not responding while scuttering off and mumbling something about having to go to a meeting for Stark.

Step 2: Get you to spend what Natasha and Wanda call “quality time” with him.

This one happens a little while later. Tony, in an effort to reward you, gave you some time off. The problem is that you hate taking off work, you always have. It’s impossible for you to feel good when you’re not being productive, and the idea of laying around for three days is unimaginable to you.

“Listen, you need some sun, you’ve been cooped up in here for weeks,” Tony tried to plead with you as he hanged upside down from the ceiling.

“C’mon, I’m not a house plant! What am I going to do anyway?” you cry out from your spot on the floor.

Just then, Natasha happened to walk through the door with a paperwork mishap. If there was a lightbulb above her head, it would’ve burned bright enough to blind them. Without doing anything that even resembles what she originally walked into the lab to do, Natasha bolts out at the speed of lightning.

“THOR!” she screams when she enters his apartment. “THOR, I HAVE SOME VERY GOOD NEWS!”

Promptly, he comes out in just a towel, glowing like some candle in a dark room. “Yes, Natasha?”

She takes a minute to wolf whistle before she beings. “The darling girl you’ve had your eye on has a few days off coming up...you should take her somewhere! Do something!”

Thor’s silent. He sort of didn’t think this would ever happen...now that he has the opportunity he’s a little floored. It’s like when you’ve been doodling hearts with your crush’s name in them and then they actually talk to you. “Oh...oh Gods...what do I do? How should I ask her…”

Natasha’s a little giddy with excitement at the prospect of Thor taking you out. You’ve been so good to them in so many different ways...she wants someone to do something nice to you for once. If that meant setting you up with the super-hot God of Thunder (and Fertility...wink wink), then so be it.

“Oh goodness, you can do anything!” she mentally runs through all of the endless possibilities. “She’ll want something quiet, quaint...coffee shop? No, that’s too boring. Some fair thing? No, that’s too crazy, loud. Maybe you could...oh my God that’s perfect!”

Thor, still in a towel but now dry, looks confused. Appreciative, but confused. “What, Natasha...what is it?”

Her grin stretches from ear to ear, teeth flashing and eyes bright. “You should help her organize the bookshelf in her room, she’s been talking about it for ages and she’s always talks about she’s never had the time or the energy and-”

“You think the best way for me to get to know the future mother of my children is to help her organize her...shelf of books?” Thor is now dressed. Natasha doesn’t question it.

“Uh...hells yeah! Listen, dude. If you really want to get to know her you need to get her in a situation, she’s comfortable with,” Natasha sees she has a text indicating she’s needed for some logistical work for the next mission and turns to leave. Right before the elevator, though, she turns to face Thor again. “But don’t mention the ‘mother of children thing’...it’s weird.”

Thor takes note as he prepares to ask you about the...date? Is it a date? That he’s planning on taking you on. Luckily, he doesn’t have to try too hard, because Wanda and Steve less than five minutes later to help him.

“Oh Thor-egous Odinson!” Wanda sing-songs as she enters into his living room. She practically bouncing off of the walls as she goes to sit down next to Thor on the large, plush couch.

“Hey Thor,” Steve mumbles quietly. He chooses a chair across from both of them, obviously extremely uncomfortable with the situation. He’s one of the few people who knows you really well, though, so the need for qualified individuals overpowers his personal feelings about manipulating you into going on a date with the God (Natasha refused to use that word when Steve brought it up, though. “I’m just encouraging her, Steven, calm down,” she tried to explain to him on the elevator up. “Don’t call me that,” is all Steve replied).

“So,” Wanda chirps. “Nat told us you wanted to help our favorite little book worm organize her bookshelves on her sequence of days off?”

Thor gives a small noise of affirmation, knowing very well that Wanda and Natasha understand you the best. If he had any choice of making his plan work, they would have to be a part of it – whether they knew it or not.

They spent hours talking about you – both of them providing deep analysis of your likes, dislikes, preferences. The things you love, hate.

It ended with lists sprawled on scraps of paper, things they told Thor he had to memorize if had “a sliver of hope” of having you like him.

With pockets stuffed full of these promises, he walked away with a small smirk and much better idea of how execute his plan, as has all led him into the next step:

Step 3: Make you like him much more than your current paramour.

This part appears to be the easiest, given your boyfriend is an aggressively mediocre man-child. You’ve got a picture of you and him on one of the bookshelf cubicles not overcome by thick books, next to a few small figurines of miscellaneous origin.

Thor asks about them as you both work to clear the bookshelf, throwing everything on the floor to be sorted later. Each one makes smile brightly for a few moments before sadness overtakes your eyes. One of them – a small fawn curled into a sleeping position on a small, circular bed of grass – seems to bring a special wave of melancholy to your face.

“Yeah, that was from when we met, a, uh, a study abroad program to a Canadian university. He and I had a mutual friend who made miniatures for fun – still does, actually – and we met through her. He bought me that for our first anniversary.”

Thor does his best to hide his wicked smile, but nevertheless is appreciative of your downcast eyes. “It sounds like he really loves you.”

You don’t disagree, just sigh. “So, can you help me sort these books by color type?”

Thor smiles wide as he can. “Of course.”

As he separates the books into four piles (warms, cools, white, and black), he goes over the state of his plan:

Step 4: Have you break up with your current paramour.

This step seems to be a significantly harder step, given your stubbornness surrounding being with him. It’s not as if Thor can grab you by the shoulders and say “he doesn’t love you! He’ll never love you! Just stop being in a relationship with him!”

He totally can’t do that, right? Right?

(After a few communiques with his mother they both decide, no, he can in fact not do that.)

So he settles for driving a wedge between the two of you that even he can fit in. Somehow, that seems just as good.

Step 5: Have you join him in Asgard.

This, too, feels much harder than sowing dislike between you and your…previous courtesan.

You’re smart, interesting, something Thor has yet to see in many possible wives. The problem is, your intelligence and fascinating nature are tied to your highly demanding job that you are, unfortunately, very attached to. Attempting to keep you for anything longer than your contractually obligated lunch break is tough enough, how could he convince you leave your job? Your home?

The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves – now organized by color – stare down at Thor almost mockingly. He wonders, as he hears the teapot screeching and two mugs being placed onto the counter, if his plan worked. You’re naïve, sure, but too naïve for him to mold? He’s been manipulating people since he was a golden child – him misreading you would be a blow to his ego, his very being.

But he cannot give up. Not when he’s only two steps into his plan.

As such, Thor spends the next few weeks following you around – doing everything he possible could to make your life easier. A mug too high? He would grab it before you could sigh about what shelf it was on. Dirty dishes? He’d fill the dishwasher, do the handwashing, and put all the clean dishes away after drying them. He did laundry and put it all away in its exact place.

Natasha made a comment Thor didn’t understand about 1960’s housewives, to which the god said nothing in return. He’d join you multiple times a week to do whatever you wanted – sometimes you’d watch a movie together, other times he’d help you shop online. Sometimes he’d help you cook food for the week, once he listened to you talk about new academic research you were interested in.

One special week he even held you as you cried about the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. That week, he wiped your tears and held you as you feel asleep, nuzzling into one of the many large hoodies he had acquired on his time on Midgard. That week, he thought he had cracked it – thought he had finally figured out how to get what wants.

Unfortunately for him, the truth was not kind to his endeavors. Not even a full day had passed before you were gushing over the man once more, sparkles in your eyes and hands clutching the latest “cute” thing he had texted you.

It was sickening, really, how easily you allowed yourself to be manipulated by him. Still, it gave Thor an ounce of hope. It this imbecile could get you crawling back to him, surely a god could do it too.

So he kept with the constant visits, with the bringing you lunch and coffee and eating take out on the floor of your bedroom and watching bad movies with you. It was menial, but it was working.

You began to trust him, began to get used to his presence.

For this reason (and maybe a few more you didn’t want to talk about), the knock on your door at dusk on a Wednesday was not exactly unexpected. For this reason, you answered the door in a loose crop top and soft, worn pajama shorts and ankle socks with smiling avocados on them.

You opened the door to him, excited to show him the duvet he had helped you pick out. It looked so much better in person, and you thought he’d like it.

He followed you, of course he did, into your bedroom. You were expecting that.

What you weren’t expecting was him to slam you into one of the few spots on the wall devoid of posters, trinkets, other miscellaneous crap that made the place feel a little more like a home.

You couldn’t see much over his broad shoulders, but somehow the top shelf of the very bookcase he had help you organize all that time ago.

Each title seemed to mock you as he began to speak.

“You’ve been holding out on me, little lamb,” he said with a sneer.

You tried to push at his muscular chest to no avail. “Thor, I don’t know what you’re t-“

He pushes you against the wall once more, ignoring your cries in pain. “Shut the fuck up, you know exactly what I mean.”

He rips the crop top off – revealing your simple black bralette. He moans as his large hands palm at your breasts, and you have to fight one yourself, too. It’s been so long since you’d had sex, let alone gone to first base; your lover (the one you had been with for over five years) hadn’t touched you like that since you’d decided to move into Stark Tower and your less-than-extensive sex toy collection had satisfied you in the very least.

Still, this was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“C’mon,” he growls, moving his hands south. “You know you want to…”

“I-” You try to push him away, only being able to think of how you were going to explain this to a man you thought one day you’d marry. You have to tell him, right? You have to tell him about what Thor tried. That’s the basis of good relationships, communication. “No, I don’t, Thor please-“

That’s when the last bit of him cracks, the soft edges to his voice sharpening and his jaw squaring.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls, ripping the shorts off next. “Do you understand all the shit I’ve put up with for you? All while your shithead boyfriend barely sent you a fucking text once a week to see if you were alright.”

“Thor, I-“

“No,” he shouts, making you flinch away from him. “Don’t excuse him! Don’t try and tell me he loves you like I do!”

That makes your eyes widen in fear, makes your hands shake where they’re pined at your side.

Thor softens everywhere except in his grip, keeping you pressed against him. “Oh, darling you don’t have to worry. I’m never gonna hurt you…”

A smile spreads across his face, then, leaning close to your ear. “Unless you want me to.”

He palms your clothed pussy, slipping two fingers inside of your dripping heat. It’s a delicious feeling and you fight back a moan, terrified to give him the satisfaction.

“C’mon darling,” Thor coos. “Let me hear you.”

He removes his fingers, then, smiling when you whine before stuffing his thick cock inside of you. It fits easily, given how wet you are, and for a moment – just a moment – you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“O-Oh,” you moan. “Oh, that feels so good.”

It all breaks down when Thor speaks once more, though. words flowing between him biting at your hot skin.

“That’s right, love,” his hands roam your body with fervor. “Let me make you feel good.”

It’s then that your mouth goes dry and a sense of dread washes over you.

“I-,” you try to find your verbal footing, wanting to find a path away from him. “I shouldn’t be doing this, I-“

You freeze when Thor uses one of his large hands to wrap around your throat, pinning you between him and the wall.

“Are you fucking serious?” he growls. “You’re really thinking about him right now?”

He nearly spits when he mentions your boyfriend, skin hot from fury.

“Think of all the things I’ve done for you!” he hisses into your ear. “How much easier I made your life. What has your boyfriend done for you?”

You don’t respond. In turn, he only fucks into you harder.

“That’s right. I know how little he loves you, and how little you love him,” you scream as he flips you around, using one hand to pins both your arms behind your back with your cheek pressed to the cool wall. “And yet you stay with him, why?”

You say nothing in return, though it’s not like you could. Each word dies in your throat when Thor thrusts into you once again. All that’s able to escape are choked sobs, broken pleas that sound more animal than human. Part of you wonders if Thor can hear you, another part wonders, if he could, would he care? If he truly understands what he’s doing, does it matter whether or not you want to push him away and cut away the skin he’s touched?

You can’t tell which is worse – dangerous naivety in combination with his strength, or determination blended with disregard.

Fiery tears burn as they stream down the already heated skin of your cheeks, but even that isn’t enough to distract from the feeling of Thor’s large hands all over you.

“C’mon little lamb,” he growls, voice sending bolts of electricity through you. “Cum for me.”

He swipes at your clit in smooth, tight circles, golden hot pleasure flooding your veins.

You reach your peak with a deep, chesty moan, nails digging into the skin of his back as you bucked your hips near violently.

“F-fuck,” Thor growls, continuing to thrust into you. “You feel so good around my cock, little lamb. You’ll have to excuse me, you’re going to make me cum much sooner than I would on an average night.”

Your eyes widen in fear, ready to plead for him to pull out.

Thor just lets out a small laugh, nipping at your skin. “Don’t worry, lamb, I won’t fill you with my seed.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last for long.

“The last thing either of us need is for you to be bearing the mark of my child away from our people.”

You barely have time to react before Thor tucks his face into your neck as he finishes himself off, thick white ropes of cum painting your lower half.

You think it’s over, but of course it isn’t – that would be too fucking easy. He moves two of his rough fingers – still smelling distinctly of your sex – through his masterpiece before shoving them deep into your mouth, smiling. At first you gag, but as your blood begs for oxygen you accept your fate and clean the salty substance with your tongue.

“There you go,” he coos, beaming as he gazes down at you. “Such a good little lamb…I wonder if you can clean my cock like that?”

You can’t tell which you flinch harder at, the nickname or the thought of him sticking his dick past your lips and down your throat.

“Oh, don’t try to act like you don’t like it,” Thor says between light kisses he peppers across your neck. “Don’t you just love the idea of servicing me forever?”

You can feel him getting hard again against your thigh and you whimper, desperate to get away.

“Fuck don’t make that noise, little lamb, makes me want you more,” Thor groans. “Just imagine it – you and me on Asgard. I can rule and you can be my pretty little pet.”

Your eyes widen in fear, brain now fully comprehending what, exactly, Thor wants from you.

“Thor, please,” you beg. “Please, let’s be rational. I mean, Stark needs me! Right? You know how much Tony needs me!”

Thor just laughs, burrowing his nose into the nap of your neck. “Oh, my little lamb. We’ll figure it out – maybe you can train someone else to do your job. Or Tony can finally figure out how to be a man and figure that shit out himself,” he pulls back to kiss at your temple, whispering into your sweaty hair. “To be honest, I really don’t care. He’ll lose you soon enough, and how he handles that is neither of our problems.”

It’s then that you understand, that you really understood what was happening with Thor, what he wants from you.

In that moment, you understood that if your world was crashing down, and Thor would be there to pick up the pieces – whether you wanted to or not.

#dark thor #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #lukis writes stuff #dubcon #hi im finally done with this thank fuck

126 notes · View notes

creativenicocorner · 4 years ago

Note

as of like 3 days ago my current hyperfixation is natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 and i blame that ENTIRELY on you well you and the fact that it’s just straight up really really good bc i’ve never encountered great comet until that balaga part of terpsichore and it got me curious and now i’m completely hopelessly hooked so that’s ur fault and i desperately want to see it performed and obvs can’t do that :< also desperately eager for more terpsichore bc that’s also just straight up really really good but i know it takes time and i respect that

ANON!!! You have no idea how much I really needed to hear that!! Thank you so much for your kind words!!!

I’m sorry this took 8+ days to respond to you I’ve been floating on air with joy, and at some point I even wanted to draw something, ( I still might once I can )

Great Comet is a musical that came to me at a very strange time in my life when a lot of emotionally heavy things occurred - and was a great help in terms of escapism and solace. I found myself diving even more into the world of War and Peace because of it, even watching a 1972 tv series with Anthony Hopkins which was equal parts enjoyable and hilarious (and my GOD young Anthony as Pierre looks like such a Dweeb! I love it!!!)

I still find myself tearing up during the final moments when Pierre confronts Natasha at the end, and the music just stops as he speaks his lines not sings it. Which is OOF the musical theatre nerd in me went WILD at that. Because usually when emotions are so strong for a character they can’t help but sing, and when singing isn’t enough that’s when they dance. And this small moment just turns it on its head and the silence is so effective too and just AAAAAH!!

And the last song? Those piano chords and the melancholic “Where to now?” fuck I still feel that.

You’ll have to thank my airplane travel playlist (which is usually just musicals I know very well that keeps my brain imagination going while looking for terminals and waiting and so on) Because listening to Balaga while racing down the airport to catch a connection flight is a HELL of a feeling, and is without a doubt the source of how Balaga as a character was morphed into a reference in Terpsichore!! There have already been a few small references to the Great Comet before Balaga’s introduction, mainly in terms of lyrics.

The earliest being the end of Ch 2 when Barbara drinks and the binding spell happens:

Drink with me, my love For there is fire in the sky, And there’s ice on the ground Either way, my soul will die

The other towards the end of Ch 7 where the big changeling party is happening in the Janus Order and the lyric is changed to make it more changeling centric:

Chandeliers and caviar the War Gumm-Gumms can’t touch us here!

But then, while waiting for the plane to take off, and still on that running Balaga song high, I realized...what a great get-away driver song, and my brain connected “You know who else would make a great get-away driver? So much so that he’s doing freaking Grease references with his driving while nearly dying?? Strickler(tm)”

I mean I’ve always thought he’d be a bit of a motor head, if not outright then definitely a tinkerer (heck just look at that amazing Merlin’s amulet replica!).

BUT I DIGRESS

So with that the changeling folkloric Balaga element was born: A picture of a shady driver being paid with booze, while also being so good at driving that even the Pale Lady wanted them as Her own chauffeur.

You’ll be happy to know that there are still more Balaga references/moments to make in the upcoming Ch16! And in ACTII I also plan on having the full ‘uncensored’ tale of The Balaga Eggs be told!

All this to say - Thank you so So SO much for your kind words!!! I deeply appreciate it, and am utterly tickled pink that my work inspired you to look into a reference!! It’s one of the biggest reason why I make them, outside of being inspired by those references. I myself love a good reference, especially when made in a way that if you don’t catch it it isn’t the end of the world, but when you do you feel a little smarter for having googled it!

So once again THANK YOU for your kindness!! It really meant a lot to me

#Stricklake #Nico Responds #Terpsichore #Walter Strickler #Balaga

3 notes · View notes

falling-feuilles · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

CW/TW: Parental Death

Y/N rose early the next morning, sitting up in bed. Soft, golden sun had just begun to seep in through the window, filtering through the curtains. She stretched her arms above her head, wincing as the movement adjusted the bandage on her wrist. Remembering her promise to Alexandra, Y/N stepped out of bed, quickly moving over to her wardrobe. She quickly prepared herself for the morning, struggling to perform simple tasks such as lacing her own stays and closing her own dress.

Eventually, she opted to call in one of her maids to assist her, an aged woman by the name of Anna. Anna had been working in the household for as long as Y/N had been living there, probably for longer. She plaited Y/N's hair with practice ease, lifting and pinning it into place.

"How's your sister?"

Anna looked up, locking eyes with Y/N in the mirror they sat in front of. She let out a sigh, continuing to finish her task as she answered.

"She says she feels better, but the doctors don't think she'll last a fortnight…"

"When's the last time you visited her?"

"About two months past, my lady."

"You should be there with her, she must be terribly lonely. Take the next few weeks, spend some time with your sister; I'm sure it would increase her spirits greatly."

"You are too kind, my lady."

"Nonsense. Now, be sure to keep me updated on her condition."

"I will, my lady."

After ensuring that Y/N's dress was situated properly, Anna exited with a curtsy, leaving her to finish any last bits of necessary preparation.

Y/N adjusted the embroidered shawl around her shoulders to sit on her forearms, assisting the sleeve of her blue dress in covering the bandage, allowing her to avoid any suspicion from the general public. The sun, at this point, denoted the time as roughly seven in the morning.

The halls were empty as she traversed through them, making her way to the back door and out to the stables. Inside, a stable boy was refilling the water troughs, being careful not to spill. Y/N knocked lightly on the door, trying to avoid frightening the boy, who couldn't have been more than eight or nine in age. He turned, searching for the source of the disturbance; when he saw Y/N, his eyes widened and he quickly set down his bucket, sloshing a small amount onto the dirt floor.

"M-my lady! How c-can I help you?" he stood as straight as possible, attempting to brush the dirt and hay off his trousers.

"I was wondering if you knew where Sergei was, I have a request to make of him," she moved closer to the boy, noticing him tense up as she did.

"Papa's not here right now, he's getting more feed for the horses."

"Sergei is your father?"

"Yes, my lady," he fidgeted nervously, seemingly preparing for a beratement.

"You must be Ivan! Your father’s told me so much about you; I'm glad we finally had the chance to meet."

Y/N extended her hand to the boy, beckoning him to take it. When he placed his small hand in her own, she shook it, causing the young boy to smile broadly.

"He's really mentioned me? What did he say?"

"He's always told me what a hard worker you are, and how much you love working with the horses." she continued in a conspiratorial tone, "He tells me you're quite the horse-whisperer."

Ivan clearly looked up to his father very much, and was more than overjoyed that his father was so impressed with him.

"Would you like to meet the horses? They're all really nice, except for the big, gray one," he pointed to the large shire on the end. Y/N chucked quietly; that large horse was hers, had been since she was about thirteen.

"What's wrong with him?"

"His name's Emil, he's mean," Ivan whispered, not wanting the horse to hear him, "And he's scary…"

"Maybe you just haven't given him a chance yet; let's go say hello, shall we?"

"If you say so, miss, but I don't think he'll like you very much."

She led the boy over to the stall, feeling his hand grab hers as Emil snorted, moving his head towards the two. Y/N held out her hand, allowing Emil to sniff it before nudging his muzzle against her fingers, blowing hot breath on them with his nose. After seeing this new change in attitude, Ivan seemed eager to interact with the horse. He stood on an overturned bucket with his hand out; he giggled a little when Emil nuzzled his hand, nibbling it with his lips.

"Ivan?” Y/N turned, seeing Sergei enter, cloth sack in hand.

"Good morning Sergei, how are you?"

He seemed surprised to see Y/N in the stables, quickly dropping the feed and bowing.

"What brings you to the stables, my lady?"

"I came to ask a favor of you, but I seem to have gotten distracted. I wasn't aware your son had started helping you care for the horses."

"I'm terribly sorry, my lady, whatever he's done-"

"He's done nothing wrong, Sergei, he's just been introducing me to Emil over here."

Sergei caught on quickly, smiling proudly at his son.

"Thank you for your help Ivan, would you mind feeding Emil a carrot for me?" she continued in a hushed tone, "I think he likes you more than me."

The boy nodded eagerly, moving back to the horse after grabbing the orange treat. Y/N beckoned Sergei to the doors of the stable

"Do you have the time this morning to drive one of the maids to Doctor Federov's then to her aunt's house? She'll direct you where to go."

"Of course, my lady; when are you planning on heading to the Rostovs' today?"

"I was planning on leaving at ten, do you think you'll be back by then?"

"No, my lady, but I will arrange for a cab to take you."

"Excellent. I expect you'll be done by the time the party ends?"

"Yes, my lady, I'll be there."

"Thank you Sergei," she made to leave, thought for a moment, before turning back, "Will you need someone to keep an eye on Ivan for the day while you're away?"

"Yes, my lady, but I expect the women in the kitchen wouldn't mind watching him for me."

"Wonderful. He's a fine boy, Sergei, your wife would be very proud of him."

Sergei smiled, looking over to the boy; he stood in front of Emil, stroking his muzzle and talking to him animatedly.

"Thank you, my lady, I'm honored you think so."

Y/N smiled, waving goodbye to the boy before continuing on her morning stroll.

The morning had been a busy one for Y/N. She had accomplished a number of tasks, including, but not limited to; ensuring that all her necessities were packed for the trip, arranging the finances to send to her mother's relatives, and, finally, responding to the influx of letters directed to her Father.

Now, she was finally able to make her way to the Rostovs'. Y/N had become close to the Rostovs through her relationship with Sonja. Sonja's mother had known Y/N's and had been one of the driving forces in helping her parents elope. Y/N's mother had sworn Sonja's to secrecy after discovering her pregnancy. Eventually, at Y/N's christening, Sonja's parents were named her godparents. Until their deaths, they had been a staple in Y/N's early life. Although they had never brought Sonja with them during visits for fear she would expose their activities, Y/N had grown up hearing stories of the girl and, when they finally met at Y/N's first name day celebration with her Father, they connected closely. Through Sonja, Y/N became familiar with Natasha and the other members of her family.

The short cab ride to their home was uneventful. However, when she arrived, she discovered she was not the only guest that day. As she entered the front doors, a butler directed her to the sitting room. A small number of people sat in various locations around the room. This small number consisting of the Rostovs, save for Natasha and Sonja, who were nowhere to be seen, as well as Anna Drubestkaya, her son Boris, Julie Kuragina, and, surprisingly, Pierre.

“Ah, Princess!” exclaimed the Count, rising from his seat to kiss her hand, “It’s wonderful to see you! I hope you are well?”

“I am, thank you, and yourself?”

“We are doing well, thank you. You know everyone here do you?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Well, do sit down, we were just talking about Pierre and his bear friend, have you heard?”

Y/N looked to Pierre as she sat next to him, he was clearly embarrassed. He looked her in the eyes, desperately begging her to change the subject.

“I have, I have; a… strange business that was,” she paused, quickly looking for any other thing to speak of, “Where are the girls? I’d have thought Natasha would be more than happy to receive guests on her name day.” The Count nodded, gesturing to the far door of the parlor.

“Natasha went to comfort Sonja, she’s upset for some reason or another, you know how it is.” Just as he finished, Y/N saw Natasha peek her head through the door.

“There you are! Natasha, look who’s come to see you!” Natasha’s face lit up, and she moved over to hug Y/N tightly. Y/N returned the hug, pressing a kiss to each of Natasha’s cheeks before pulling away. Natasha moved to her arm, clinging tightly to it. Y/N winced, feeling hot, stabbing pains move up her arm; no one noticed, save for Pierre, who saw her discomfort.

“I’ve come to wish you a happy name day from myself and Lise, are you excited for your party?”

“Yes, very! Don’t leave yet, I have to help Sonja and Nikolai,” The last part was whispered, as though she was trusting Y/N with an important, yet very obvious, secret.

Natasha moved quickly away from Y/N, seeming to have remembered her true purpose for entering the room. She dragged Nikolai out into the hallway with her, shutting the door behind the two of them. Y/N sat back down, unintentionally cradling her wrist with her left hand, gently adjusting her sleeve. While the other guests continued their conversations as if nothing had happened, Pierre leaned closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear.

“Are you alright?” she started slightly, calming when she noticed Pierre staring at her arm. She placed it back on her lap, turning to respond.

“Yes I… I’m fine,” she paused, realizing the conversation she wanted to have shouldn’t take place in front of everyone. She stood, beckoning Pierre to follow her into the hallway. The others were too preoccupied in discussing Nikolai and Boris’ future service to notice their disappearance. They stopped in a small alcove, near the sitting room but far enough to avoid being overheard

“Listen, I wanted to apologize to you about last night, It wasn’t-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” he interrupted, “You were right…”

“No, I… are you alright?” she asked, noticing Pierre’s paleness and the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, “You look awful Pierre, are you ill?”

“Y/N, my father...” he grabbed her hand, looking for some semblance of support; Y/N breathed in sharply, feeling her wrist spasm in Pierre’s hand. His brows knitted in confusion, “What-? Y/N, what’s going on, are you hurt? Do I need to call a doctor?” the concern in his voice was evident, but she didn’t want to trouble him.

“No, I-I hit it on a… a dresser last night, it’s nothing serious.”

He clearly didn’t believe her, eyes finally noticing the bandage edging out beneath her sleeve.

“N/N…“ he reached out, resting his hand gently on her other forearm, “What happened?”

Before Y/N could answer, she heard their names being called. Pierre made to ask again, but she shook her head, gesturing that they should go back into the room. Apparently, they hadn’t moved quickly enough. Anna Drubetskaya came into the hallway, looking suspiciously between the two before continuing.

“Pierre, shouldn’t you be with your father? Hasn’t he been worsening?”

“Your father?” Y/N asked, seeing the distress on Pierre’s face, “Oh, Pierre…” He shook off her concern, plastering a weak smile on his face.

“Yes, I’ll be heading there later.”

Anna dragged the two back into the room, away from their brief reprieve, and back into the reality of their lives.

Natasha’s name day party was just as Y/N had expected. It was packed full of loud music, dancing, and far too many people for her tastes. She made a concerted effort to stay by Pierre’s side; she didn’t want to force him to see his father, nor did she want to make him feel guilty by not going. That is, until the message came. When Pierre discovered his father had another stroke and wasn’t expected to last the night, Y/N, with help from Anna Drubteskaya, managed to convince him to see his father in his final moments.

In Y/N’s carriage, Anna was talking quickly to Pierre, explaining how he was to go about dealing with the situation.

“It's a matter of life or death. You must be a man now. You have to look after your own interests. Don't expect your Cousin Vassily to. You need to let the old Count see you before he dies. He might give a little sign, you know,” she paused, allowing him a moment to think before continuing, “In any case, it will be so much better for your soul if you can kiss him before he goes, he always loved you.”

Y/N sat beside him, holding his hand out of Anna’s sight; after seeing the two alone earlier, she had continued to pester them all evening. Y/N rubbed her thumb across the top of his hand, attempting to lessen the tremors stemming from it. He looked at her sadly, before turning to the window.

“Yes, yes, I've been a poor sort of son to him…”

When the trio arrived at the Counts’ residence, a group of men, dressed all black, stood outside near a hearse. Pierre, seeing this, rushed out before the carriage fully stopped. Y/N chased after him, holding her skirt to allow for freer movement.

“So,” sneered Prince Vassily, seeing them enter, “At last you deign to turn up at your father’s deathbed.”

“Am I too late?” Pierre was winded, eyes scanning desperately about for any sign of his father, “We saw the undertakers outside and I thought…”

“Just touting for business; The Count still lives.”

Pierre let out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing slightly.

“But really,” the Prince continued, looking disdainfully upon the man’s ruffled visage, “What were you thinking of?”

“I’m so-”

“You have no business here, I think.” Vassily glared at Y/N and Anna, who had followed close on the heels of Pierre.

“I have a perfect right to be here. You know very well the Count is my near relation, and poor Boris his dear godson.” Anna paused, allowing herself a moment before continuing, “Who has more claim than us to be here at this sad time?”

“Yes, yes, very well. But she,” he gestured to Y/N, “Has no claim to be here.”

“But-”

“He’s right, Pierre. I’ll wait in the hall for you.” She exited as Anna and Pierre entered the old Count’s rooms. As soon as the door closed behind her, she heard whispers between Vassily and Catiche; they spoke of the will naming Pierre as the rightful heir, plotting to destroy it. Y/N listened, furious at the pair. As soon as she heard the click denoting the opening of the Count’s doors, she cracked the hall door ajar.

“Anna!” she whispered, trying to catch her attention. Anna noticed Y/N peering around the edge of the door and moved quickly to her.

“What is it?”

“Vassily and Catiche mean to remove Pierre from the will, they have a copy naming him as the recipient for the Count’s fortune. You must do something, they’ll surely leave him destitute!” Anna nodded, spotting the folder Catiche held.

“Wait here, I may need your help.” Y/N did as she was told, peering through the crack in the door. She saw Anna approach Catiche, grabbing at the paper in her hands. Pierre stood off to the side, miserable and dissociated, unaware of the squabble between the two women unti Anna called him to her. Vassily attempted to break it up, halting only when a woman ran out of the Count’s room, proclaiming his death with a sob. In the chaos, Y/N was able to reenter the room, heading straight for Pierre and Anna.

“I don’t understand…”

“You are Count Bezukhov now, my dear friend.”

Pierre stood, clearly in some state of shock. Y/N grabbed his arm gently, moving to guide him out of the room. He stared at her blankly, unable to understand his new place in the world. Anna patted him on the arm, leaving to return to her home.

“My friend,” Vassily approached, catching the attention of both Y/N and Pierre, “We sin so much and deceive so much, and all for what?” His philosophical question was left unanswered, and he moved away from the pair, back into the Count’s room.

“Pierre, let’s go.” he nodded slowly, allowing her to lead him to her carriage. Sergei noticed the guest, looking to Y/N for instruction. Y/N looked at Pierre, quickly deeming him unfit to be alone for the time being.

“He’ll stay with us tonight.”

“No… I-I don’t want to impose,” Pierre protested weakly.

“Pierre, you could never.”

Sergei nodded, moving to open the door; Y/N guided Pierre up the steps, sitting him down next to her on the bench. The carriage began to move, lilting back and forth on the uneven road. Y/N looked at Pierre, noticing his expression shift from one of shock and disbelief, to one more akin to sorrow. Despite not knowing his father well, Pierre still cared for him deeply; the Count had provided Pierre with things he would never be able to attain had it not been for his father; an education, social status, but… not the affection one would expect from a father. Still, Pierre had loved him.

“Pierre… I’m sorry about your father…” he nodded, unable to speak. They sat in silence for a few minutes, shoulders pressed together. Pierre reached for her hand, being mindful, even in his dazed state, to avoid the injured one. He placed his head in the other hand, trying to contain himself.

They sat like that for the carriage ride, neither speaking; there was no need for words. Nothing Y/N could say would change what lay in the future for Pierre, and Pierre couldn’t bring himself to speak, knowing he wouldn’t be able to maintain the last semblances of composure he still had. When the carriage finally stopped, Y/N helped Pierre down again, making sure he exited the carriage safely. He was despondent, following her around like a young child. She led him inside, instructing the nearest maid to arrange for a tray of tea to be sent to her sitting room.

Y/N’s cousin, a young man named Vladimir, had stayed at her house for a number of weeks the previous year. He had left abruptly, never returning for the clothing he left behind. Y/N sat Pierre down on the bed of one of the many guest rooms; she opened the drawers of the dresser placed against the far wall, rummaging through the neatly folded clothes. She found a night shirt that seemed as though it would fit Pierre, as well as a navy house robe to wear over it, instructing him to go to her sitting room after he’d changed. Y/N moved back to her chambers, changing quickly into a nightgown, covering it with a thick, maroon robe. She removed the pins in her hair, permitting the singular braid to rest on her shoulder.

When she walked through the door, she noticed Pierre sitting on the couch, tea in hand. She sat next to him, pouring herself a cup as well. The tea was very aromatic, causing the air to smell strongly of citrus and bergamot. Steam lifted slowly from the cups, twisting slightly in the drafty room; spreading the scent. Pierre’s spectacles were discarded on the table, lenses shimmering softly in the low lights.

“Do you want to talk?”

He didn’t answer at first, opting to sip slowly from his teacup, formulating his response.

“I… I don’t know how I’m to be Count Bezukhov… It just, doesn’t feel real.” He looked towards her, eyes searching for an answer, a suggestion, anything. Y/N tasted her tea, allowing herself a moment to think before answering.

“Well, it is real and, as much as I know you’ll disagree with me, you are most definitely worthy of the title. Don’t shake your head, Pierre. You are one of the most intelligent, compassionate, brilliant men I know; if anyone deserves that title, it’s you.”

“I… thank you. That means… more than you know.”

“I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’ll leave you to rest,” she stood, setting down her cup on the tray.

“Wait, please…” she stopped, turning back to face him,”Would you just… sit with me for a while? I don’t want to be alone…” She sat back down beside him, placing her hand on his.

“Of course. I’ll be by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

A/N: If you find any spelling mistakes, please message me the part, chapter, and sentence. I’ll do my best to fix it, thank you!

#pierre bezukhov #bbc war and peace #war and peace

7 notes · View notes

teatreethot · 5 years ago

Text

UNPOPULAR MUSICAL THEATRE OPINIONS (im so sorry)

Okay first of all, I am a theatre kid. I literally did Phantom Of The Opera cosplay when I was 3 because I didn’t want to make an animal mask with the paper plates. Also, this is MY opinion. So please don’t spam the comments calling me a fake fan. This fandom is already toxic as it is.

- I don’t like Starkid. I’ve watched every Starkid show and honestly none of them are funny or entertaining.

- Hamilton, DEH, Heathers, BMC, BOM, Falsettos and Six are all incredibly overrated. Lemme explain why:

- Hamilton is overrated because Jesus Christ. I’ve listened to Hamilton since they were off Broadway and can I just say, while it is an amazing piece of art and is somewhat educational (literally half of it is fanfiction) the fandom has taken it out of proportions and destroyed it. It’s just gotten so cringy because of people who like it a bit too much.

- DEH and Heathers are both good musicals. They are not bad okay. I’m not saying that but I feel like they are a bit too overhyped. Especially DEH. ‘Treebros’ is necrophilia and we don’t have that stuff on this blog okay. Again, I’m not saying that I hate them, because the music is good, but there are better things.

- Side note: DEH should not have won Best Orchestrations at the Tonys because The Great Comet was by far superior.

- I hate Be More Chill. I can’t even explain why. The thought of it makes me cringe. I can’t look at the cover of the soundtrack without flinching. I’ve listened to the entire thing and I regret it. I will never like it.

- BOM, Falsettos and Six are all great musicals, but everyone just keeps talking about them. Like yes, I know about BOM, and yes I know that it’s funny and has good music, but it’s not better that Phantom Of The Opera? And Falsettos is good but it is so goddamn overhyped. It was NOT robbed at the Tonys, because ti had a very limited cast and no ensemble so it was pretty obvious that it was going to be lost between things like DEH, TGC and Hello Dolly!

- Side note: I don’t think Hello Dolly! should’ve won all of the things it did but I’ll get to that later.

- Six is good. But it is so annoying. It was great at the start but the only songs that people actually listen to are Don’t Lose Your Head and Don’t Lose Your Head. I’m so sick of it.

- Anyways, classics like Phantom and Les Mis and anything Lloyd Webber or Sondheim are far superior to modern day musicals because they encompass the true spirit of musical theatre.

- The 2017 Tonys.

- The 2017 goddamn Tonys.

- I’m just gonna go and say it. Hello Dolly! did not deserve all of it’s awards. DEH did not deserve Best Orchestrations, which rightfully belonged the TGC. Speaking of TGC, that is a show that was truely robbed. Lucas Steele should’ve won best featured actor, not Gavin Creel. He literally danced, sung, acted and played advanced violin all at the same time. And the set of TGC was basically stairs and platforms, so it was more of a challenge. He deserved it an I will stand by that until I die.

- Mike Faist didn’t deserve the nomination. He was barely on stage and barely a character.

- Falsettos wasn’t robbed. Don’t even start me.

- I CANNOT HANDLE LAMS. OR JAMILTON. I JUST CANT.

- I you want to know why I can’t handle Hamilton ships (Lams and Jamilton in particular) than DM me and I’ll give you my 700 word essay because damn.

- I’m going to get attacked for this but here is a list of actors/actresses that are widely overrated in my opinion (I’m not saying that they’re bad because they are obviously amazing but I don’t really connect with them): Mike Faist, Phillipa Soo, Lin Manuel Miranda, Ben Platt, Daveed Diggs, Barret Wilbert Weed, Ben Frankhauser (i spelt his name wrong i am so sorry), Gavin Creel, Andrew Ranelles, Jonathan Groff, Laura Osnes (butchered her name too i think?), Willemijn Verkaik, Desi Oakley, Mariah Rose Faith.

- I don’t really like Mariah Rose Faith’s voice and while she is honestly amazing, I feel like she isn’t right for Regina George.

- One of the best shows to ever grace the Broadway stage is Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812.

- I’ve read War and Peace over 4 times. I know the plotline. TGC covers it perfectly. The acting, the actual stage and how it is so interactive, Lucas Steele, the way that all the ensemble dances, sings and play and instrument, Lucas Steele, Lucas Steele playing the violin. Like damn. It is the true meaning of robbed.

- Lucas Steele deserves so much more recognition.

- I like Denee’s Natasha better than Pippa’s. They are both incredible singers who blow me away everything they open their mouths, but I feel like Denee really shows Natasha’s character. Pippa does the same with Eliza.

- Lucas Steele and Reeve Carney recognition month. Their falsettos can blow me into next Spring.

- The ‘and Peggy’ joke was never funny. Watch me offend the whole Hamilton fandom with that.

- Lams isn’t or wasn’t real. Sorry.

- Say what you goddamn want, but I will literally never like the Prom. I have been called homophobic for not liking it so many times and I really am not. I just don’t like the music, I’m not saying that I’m against the LGBT community,

- I have watched all of Glee (and a secret deleted bootleg of Darren Criss’s Hedwig run) and I don’t like Darren Criss. There. I said it.

- Here’s a list of underrated actors/actresses: Leslie Odom Jr, LUCAS STEELE, The entire Broadway cast of Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812, Rachel Tucker, Jessie Mueller, Eva Nobelzada, REEVE CARNEY, Christy Altomare.

- I don’t like how LMM was actually in Hamilton or In The Heights. He can write songs, sure, but he’s not the best singer. I feel like Javi should’ve been on the cast recordings. Then I would be more inclined to listen to them.

- These are only the ones that I can think of without having to actually think (this sentence makes no sense) so I’m sorry if I offended you. Please remember that this is just my opinion.

14 notes · View notes

bethhxrmon · 6 years ago

Text

All I Ask of You Pt. 39

“Is this how I die? Frightened like a child, lazy and numb” - “Dust and Ashes” from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

Pairing: Peter Paker x Female OC

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Well, it’s infinity war time lol

Warnings: Sads, major character(s) death (it’s infinity war what do you expect)

A/N: Here we are, the last full chapter of the fic! It’s really sad, I cried writing it, but I hope y’all enjoy this. It’s been an insane ride. As always, you can get the full masterlist in my bio!

It was another normal morning. Well, not quite normal since there was a field trip, but it wasn’t like anything crazy was going to happen. Annie was sharing a seat on the bus with Peter, and she was using him as a pillow while she took a nap. The night before had been completely revolutionary. Only because she finally figured out what her audition song was going to be, but that took hours of work. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to patrol that night or not. Maybe she would, if only because Peter would be there.

Right when she was comfortable, however, Peter shifted and caused Annie to knock her head into his collarbone.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell was-” she stopped herself.

Outside the window, there was a huge doughnut-shaped spaceship in the distance. At least, Annie assumed it was a spaceship. Somehow, no one else seemed to notice it. She looked at Peter and she already knew exactly what he was planning on doing. There was that look of determination in his eyes that he only seemed to get whenever there was something that was clearly dangerous happening.

Annie leaned over and whispered, “I’m coming too.”

“What?! No way.”

“Yes way, we’re a team, remember?” she pointed out, “You don’t just get to pick and choose that.”

Peter sighed before nodding, “Fine, you’re right.”

He then turned behind him to get Ned to cause a distraction. Annie made a mental note to get a hold of Harper in case they hadn’t seen. How no one else was seeing this amazed her. Still, she shook the thought away and made a mental plan of how to get out of the bus without anyone seeing.

“We’re all gonna die!” Ned shouted.

Right as everyone rushed over to the side they were sitting on, Annie pulled Peter over to the other side, and he shot a web to get them out of the bus through the open window in the back. It would have been so easy to catch both of them, but if no one say the spaceship then she guessed it didn’t make much of a difference.

Before she knew it, they were in their suits and headed straight for the spaceship. Even though everything inside of her was screaming to just stay there. She ignored the thought, there was no way she was letting Peter just go by himself if she had any say in it. And she did.

As she followed him, gliding, she sighed, “Hey, Eve, can you do me a solid?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Can you call Harper real fast?”

“Yes, dialing ‘my idiot best friend’.”

Annie kept going as she heard the dial tone before there was a click, “Dude are you seeing this?!”

“That’s what I was calling you about. I’m headed right there,” Annie said.

Harper sighed, “I figured… just, be careful, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be smart about it. I’m good with this type of stuff, and I’ll look great while doing it.”

“Whatever you say…” they trailed off.

Right then, a huge alien-looking thing almost hit her, “Okay, super sorry, Harper, but I gotta go there’s a big alien thing, love you, bye!”

Just like that, Annie was thrust into fighting some aliens that she knew nothing about. But they were giving her a lot of energy to work with, so she wasn’t complaining. She was just barely listening to what Peter and Tony were talking about, though she couldn’t remember when he showed up. Not that the fact he was there surprised her.

“Yeah, I want you kids to protect the wizard,” he said, gesturing to another alien that was a little bit away.

It caught Annie’s attention, “Wait, what wizard?”

“The one over there, don’t let them get the necklace,” Tony told her, “Good luck!”

Annie sighed, rushing over with Peter. When she got a second glance, she gasped. That was the wizard. The same guy who kind of saved her life. She would have to ask about everything later, there wasn’t any time to focus on anything but what they were supposed to do.

Peter shot a web at the wizard, and Annie used an energy barrier to keep him where he was. However, whatever the alien was using seemed to add more energy at a faster rate than she could take. They were losing ground, literally. Annie felt herself being lifted up off the ground. If Peter wasn’t going to let go then that meant they were headed straight for the spaceship.

“Peter, what do I do?!” Annie yelled, feeling her heart rate pick up and her hands grow shaky the further up she was lifted without anything below her.

He quickly grabbed her hand, giving her just a bit more confidence, “Hey, Mr. Stark, we’re getting beamed up.”

“Seriously? You make a Star Trek reference now?” Annie asked, rolling her eyes.

If nothing else, it managed to keep her from freaking out. Although, she was beginning to realize that she couldn’t breathe as well. Almost as soon as there was a piece of the ship for her to hold onto, the air seemed to get thinner. She couldn’t quite hear what Peter and Tony were talking about. But there was energy. Maybe it wouldn’t work but it was worth a shot. She created a barrier of energy around her face. It wasn’t the best way to breathe, but it gave her something.

That was when she looked up at Peter, “Did you get a costume change or something?”

“Um… you could say that. Come on, um… let’s get back,” he said, looking like he was about to drop off.

Annie looked at him, “Cut the crap, Peter, you just don’t want me going up to space with you. I get it. But I’m a big girl, and I can handle this.”

“Ann, we gotta go back.”

“You’re not gonna leave him here. I know that. Besides, I have a few words for that wizard dude. He has a ton of explaining to do.”

Once it was obvious that he wasn’t going to lose Annie any time soon, Peter started to look for a different entrance into the ship. Annie was more focused on keeping her energy barrier intact. If she lost concentration, she’d probably die. After a few moments, Peter found a way in, sneaking Annie inside as well.

It was about what she would have expected for an alien spaceship. She looked around, but it seemed like Peter was losing his mind over the tech. If the situation didn’t feel like it was going to affect the fate of the world, she probably would have let him look around a bit more.

“Come on, we gotta find them,” she whispered, pulling him further into the ship.

Peter frowned, “Why are we whispering.”

“In case there’s any more aliens. Stay on guard,” she told him, making sure that she could feel the energy and electricity coursing through the ship.

First, Annie saw the wizard and the alien. It looked like the wizard was being tortured, and it wasn’t looking too good. She didn’t know what was in the necklace, but she could see it was glowing. Quickly, she pulled Peter down with her so they wouldn’t be seen by the alien. That was when she heard it.

“...loyal piece of clothing,” Tony mumbled.

Peter jumped down, “Speaking of loyal-”

“What’re you doing is… Annie too?”

Annie sighed, hopping down, using the energy to make her land quietly, “Yeah.”

Tony looked between the both of them. The last time she saw him look at them with such irritation and moderate anger was after they nearly blew up the lab back at Lake Tahoe. Maybe they should have gone back to Earth.

“H-hey, I can explain,” Peter stammered, his eyes darting from Annie to Tony.

Tony looked at Peter, “Really? Do either of you realize what this is? You guys aren’t just going on a field trip to space. This is a one-way ticket-”

“Yeah, yeah I-I get that, but… the drop was too far down to really take Annie with me properly, a-and then the suit ended up landing on the ship and she was still there. I-I mean, you were still here too and the suit’s pretty intuitive, Sir, a-and so I guess it’s kinda your fault I’m here,” Peter paused.

Annie covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out of shock. Then she elbowed Peter. What in the world was that boy thinking?

“Um… not that it’s my fault but um-”

Tony glared at both of them, “There’s no way in hell you guys thought this through.”

“I did,” they both said in unison. Annie raised an eyebrow, but nodded at Peter to go first.

Peter sighed, “W-well, you can’t be a neighborhood friendly Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood… okay, that didn’t really make sense, but you know what I meant.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, what’s your excuse.”

“There’s a few. One, did you really think I was gonna just let Peter stay in space and spend all my time worrying about him like an idiot? And two, I never really made up for everything… you know, Tina and Carnival were kinda my fault and I never really solved either of those problems,” she said, shrugging.

Tony sighed, “Okay, fine, look down there, that’s the wizard, what do you guys do?”

Right as Annie was about to suggest a plan, Peter cut in, “Have either of you guys seen this really old movie, Aliens?”

The plan he came up with was better than anything Annie had in mind and Tony seemed convinced, so that was what they went with. Annie was in her position. She had to be backup and make sure the alien was the only one who went through the hole. So far, the alien wasn’t facing them and the wizard didn’t even know they were there.

That was when Tony started speaking to the alien. Now that she thought about it, the guy kind of looked like Squidward, but that wasn’t important. What was important was paying attention to what was happening, but the alien was so full of himself.

“My powers are far more superior,” the alien said, stepping towards Tony.

Annie rolled her eyes before muttering under her breath, “Bet.”

“Maybe, but the kid’s seen more movies,” Tony responded.

That was the signal, and Annie jumped right into action, not even hearing the blast as she made the knives around the wizard move away. Then came the harder part, there was so much energy that it almost felt like her powers were on high alert. She moved to pull everyone back by reversing the energy. What she never bothered to consider was that she was just some teenager literally going up against the cold, dark void that was space.

Though, everything ended up being just fine, and Tony patched up the hole. So she went right up to the wizard.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, crossing her arms.

The wizard nodded slowly, “I don’t need to talk to you. Now, are we going back to Earth?”

“The ship’s on autopilot and headed straight for Titan,” Tony said, looking at the screens.

He shook his head, “We cannot take the time stone to Thanos. Not under any circumstances.”

That seemed to send Tony into a raving rage. He started to go on about how he was going to fight Thanos. As soon as he mentioned Thanos being in his head for years, Peter and Annie exchanged glances.

Annie frowned, “Did he ever-”

Peter shook his head.

“Now we’re stranded thousands of miles away from Earth with no backup!”

“Um… we’re backup,” Peter interjected.

Tony looked at the pair again, “No. You’re both stowaways.”

“Okay wait, who are they? Are they your wards or something?” asked the wizard.

“I’m Peter actually-”

“Doctor Strange.”

Peter gasped, “Oh, we’re using our made up names! I’m Spider-Man.”

“Um… I’m Annie, or White Swan. Whatever works.”

The wizard, or Dr. Strange, went right back to Tony, “Look, we can go to Thanos, but if it comes down to it being between you, the boy, the girl, or the time stone. I’m choosing the time stone.”

“Right, good to know that you have a moral compass,” he commented before going up to Annie and Peter to mockingly dub them, “Congrats, you’re both Avengers now.”

With that, they were all kind of left to their own devices. It was the perfect time to finally get some answers for questions that had been in Annie’s mind for months. This time, she didn’t hesitate to go right up to the man.

“So… what’s up, Doc?” Annie asked, taking off her mask so it hung around her neck.

Dr. Strange rolled his eyes, “Very original. What do you want?”

“Answers, lots of answers. And if you’re gonna choose a piece of jewelry over me, then this is the least you can do.”

He scoffed, “This is not a piece of jewelry, this is the time stone. One of the six infinity stones. It literally controls time as we know it.”

“Okay, okay, whatever, I have a question or two for that too then… but I’m starting from the top. Where were you when Carnival was in Seattle? Because I was facing off against him on my own. Do you get that? I was barely even fifteen at the time-”

“That was your choice.”

“Because I have powers! So answer the damn question, where were you?” she asked, frowning.

He shook his head, “I barely even knew what I was doing at that time. I’m not sure if I was even in charge of the Sanctum at the time.”

“Right… okay, and that time stone thingy… actually, I can answer this one myself,” Annie paused, starting to see if she could take any energy from the time stone.

At first, Annie felt fine and she could see that her hands were glowing green and it was starting to travel up her veins. Then it took more effort, but then she fell to the floor, feeling dizzy.

The man sighed, “It’s an infinity stone. No one can just sap all the energy out of one of those things. Though, you might be able to.”

“Well I’m not your average person,” Annie said, pushing herself to stand back up, “That kinda made me feel sick, though.”

He looked at her, “How badly do you want to save the universe?”

“Um… pretty badly. Kinda the only way I can make up for… never mind, you wouldn’t care about that. What’re you on about?”

“It’s possible that if you sapped out all the energy of the stones… Thanos wouldn’t be able to complete his goal. But it would almost definitely kill you, and that’s if it worked. It might not.”

Annie looked at him, “But I could save the universe… you, Stark, Peter, everyone back home, they’d be okay?”

“If he’s defeated, yes.”

She nodded slowly, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before she knew it, they were headed right towards a planet. Probably the place they were going to meet Thanos. She had no clue what the guy looked like, but she was pretty sure that she knew what she’d have to do. First, they needed to land without dying.

“You gonna help your… boyfriend?” Dr. Strange asked.

Annie shook her head, “Nah, he’s basically a genius. I’m just damage control.”

“Nah, as in he isn’t your boyfriend, or nah, as in you’re not helping.”

She laughed, “Nah as in I’m not helping. Peter’s freaking great. You might not wanna protect him, but I do.”

There wasn’t much more time for talking as they started to his a rocky landing. Annie put up a barrier to protect the four of them, and it seemed like Dr. Strange was right on the same page as her. If they all got through this, she’d probably ask him how he managed to do it.

“Hey, guys, for the record, um… I’m really sorry if an alien comes and puts her eggs in me,” Peter mumbled, hanging upside down.

Tony looked at Peter, “You, I don’t want another pop-culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip.”

“Um… what I’m trying to say is something’s coming.”

That was when a group of complete strangers flooded the scene. They were under attack, and Annie was quick to block a hulking, blue man. She pushed him back, and ran off. No one else seemed to have any powers like she did, so she wasn’t too worried for herself. But she took her eyes off of everyone else and she suddenly saw Peter had a gun to his head.

“I swear if you even think about shooting him, I’ll electrocute you until you’re fried to a damn crisp,” Annie growled.

Tony sighed, “If you shoot my guy, I’m gonna shoot your guy.”

“Go for it, I can take it,” said the blue man.

An alien who looked like a cross between a praying mantis and a lady cried out, “Don’t, he can’t take it!”

“You’re right, he can’t,” Dr. Strange agreed.

The man pointing the gun at Peter removed his mask, “Look, I’m only gonna ask you one question. Where is Gamora?”

Tony took off his mask, “I’ll do you one better. Who is Gamora?”

“I’ll do you one better! Why is Gamora?” the blue man asked.

Then the man started blabbering on about Thanos, and Annie was still watching carefully in case something happened.

“Wait, what master do you serve?” Dr. Strange asked.

The man scoffed, “What am I supposed to say, Jesus?”

“So he’s from Earth,” Tony remarked.

He sighed, “I’m from Missouri.”

“That’s on Earth, you dipshit.”

The man shook his head, “Wait, who are you guys?”

Peter took off his mask, “We’re the Avengers, man!”

With that, they all quickly realized they were on the same side. At least, they weren’t serving Thanos in any sort of way. So that meant they would be able to team up. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything that would potentially kill her.

They were standing around, and Tony was attempting to come up with a plan, and Annie was mentally making the note to do what Dr. Strange suggested. Well, he never suggested it, but all the same she never would have tried it if he hadn’t mentioned it.

“Is that guy really yawning?” Tony asked incredulously.

The man, who she learned was Quill gave a shrug, “They’re not used to making plans. We’re more of the winging it type.”

“We are not winging it with Thanos.”

Peter looked over at the other two, “What do those guys even do anyways?”

“Kick names, take ass,” the lady replied.

“There was the dance-off to save the universe,” the blue man added.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “Like in Footloose?”

“Exactly like in Footloose! Is it still the best movie ever made?” Quill asked.

“Um… it never was.”

Annie laughed, “Mamma Mia was, like, a gazillion times better.”

“The hell is Mamma Mia?”

She gasped, “It’s a jukebox musical, it’s got a ton of ABBA-”

“Wait, what?! That’s how much changed?”

“I guess so, anyways, you gotta listen to it and watch it, it’s a freaking masterpiece-”

“We’re not letting Flash Gordon get you wrapped up in musicals.”

The other alien lady looked over at Dr. Strange, “Does your friend do that often?”

Tony approached the wizard, and he sighed, “I was looking into all the alternative futures.”

“How many were there?”

“Fourteen million six-hundred-five.”

“How many did we win?’

“One.”

The word cut through Annie’s heart like a knife. There was only one shot, and it had to be the one where she sacrificed herself. That had to be the only way, she bit her lip in thought. She quickly held Peter’s hand. If she didn’t do this, then none of them were going to win. She had to do this.

Annie kept that in her mind as they went over the plan time and time again. Dr. Strange never spoke to her about the energies again, and she wondered if that meant she was just supposed to do this. And before she could really consider the weight of what she had to do, she was hiding behind wreckage with Peter.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Annie asked softly. Peter nodded, “Yeah, of course. I love you too. We’re gonna get through this, alright? I don’t know when we’ll get home, but we’ll get back in time for your audition next month for sure. We can take a few days off from all this. We could go see one of your musicals or something-”

She cut him off with a quick kiss when she heard another ship land, “That would be lovely,” she whispered.

It took everything she had in her to not let the tears stinging at her eyes fall. She couldn’t. Then he would know what she had in mind, and he’d try to stop her. But this was the only chance they had. He’d get over her, right? He had to.

She was lurched right into battle when she was the least prepared for it, and she attacked Thanos head on. Except, he wasn’t interested in her. That was fine by her, the less he noticed her the better. She wanted to make sure everyone stayed safe. Peter seemed to be having a great time until Thanos grabbed him by the neck and smashed him into the ground.

“That’s my boyfriend, you artificial grape-colored nut sack!” Annie screamed, letting out one of the largest bursts of energy she could manage.

Quill couldn’t help laughing, “You definitely lucked out. She’s a keeper.”

Annie then focused on the gauntlet. She didn’t want to just start off by killing herself. Not when there was the tiniest chance that it was unnecessary. Instead, she focused all the energy of the planet into that one gauntlet.

Things were starting to look decent enough. She could audition, and maybe, just maybe, she could even make it to her therapy appointment that was supposed to have been that day. Once the gauntlet was off, they could figure it all out from there.

Someone landed in a ship, but Annie wasn’t about to worry about who was there. She needed to focus on this, and they were starting to make a lot of headway on it.

The person who landed started asking around about Gamora. Annie really wondered just who in the world Gamora was. Probably someone important because as soon as the person who landed accused Thanos of murdering Gamora, Quill got a very specific look in his eyes.

“Hey, Quill, look, you need to keep your cool, come on, we’ve almost got this thing off,” Tony pleaded.

It wasn’t any use, Quill started to punch Thanos and yell at him. She looked at the man, shaking her head, there wasn’t anything she could do to stop him. So when Thanos was snapped out of his trance, they were all flung to the side. She noticed Peter caught the alien lady, and her energy broke her fall.

They were all together within minutes. Except for Dr. Strange and Tony. She knew what that meant and she felt tears stinging her eyes.

“Hey, I-I know this doesn’t look good, but it’ll be okay,” Peter told her, pulling her in for a hug.

Annie hugged him back tightly, “You’re right. It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” she paused for a few moments before kissing him, “I love you.”

“A-are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I’m positive, and you’re gonna be okay. Just trust me.”

Then she pushed him back before rushing off. She kept everyone else back just to give her a head start. When she got to where the main battle had been. Tony had something stabbed into his chest. There was no way he was going to survive that, but she needed to do this. Peter still had his aunt and Ned and Harper and everyone else. So she fixed her eyes on the purple stone in Thanos’s gauntlet. She started to pull the energy, and she knew that Dr. Strange and Thanos were too busy talking to notice. It started off and she was okay. She actually felt a pretty big surge of power, but she could only take so much. It was starting to feel like she was going to throw up. Everything was starting to spin, and she didn’t feel quite right. She refused to let go. This was something she had to do, and if she didn’t then more people were going to be hurt.

Peter would forgive her for doing this, right? He would have to. Maybe someday he would understand.

Right as she started to feel herself black out, she was shoved down. She could barely move, but she could have sworn she saw Thanos standing over her.

“Clever, but not quite enough,” Thanos said, turning back to Dr. Strange.

She watched him with the time stone, and she couldn’t quite make out what Quill was doing. Thanos was done before anything else could happen.

“What the fuck?!” Annie exclaimed, “Y-you said that I could-”

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Dr. Strange said, “I never said it would work for sure.”

“But that was the only shot we had!” she cried.

He shook his head, “You should stick with your boyfriend.”

Almost like he heard, Peter made it to her, “You… what did you do?”

“N-nothing you need to worry about.”

“You were gonna sacrifice yourself, weren’t you? Annie, you don’t have to kill yourself to make up for everything,” Peter snapped, his eyes filled with hurt.

Annie buried her face in her hands, “It was supposed to work. You would’ve been okay, everyone would’ve been okay.”

“We can still be okay, come here,” Peter held her in his arms, stroking her hair, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if you died like that.”

“Yes you would’ve, it’s what I wanted,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He sighed, “I don’t know how I would’ve done it, though.”

“That’s not what matters. I know you, you’d be fine.”

Peter tilted her face up, “You really don’t realize just how important you are.”

“Obviously I do or I wouldn’t have… you know.”

He sighed, helping her up, “Let’s go see the others.”

“I’m still pissed at that Quill guy.”

Peter laughed dryly, “I’m sure you are.”

It was right as they started to get back that it happened. First it was the alien lady, then it was the blue man. Quill was next. Annie saw Dr. Strange fade away too.

That was when she literally felt energy slipping from her, “Peter!”

He turned to her with wide eyes. Annie was trying to keep herself together, literally. She was barely forcing herself to stay together.

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be fine. W-we’ll get home, a-and you can audition for your musical. W-we need to have that Harry Potter marathon still-”

“Peter, I love you so, s-so much. P-please tell me you know that,” she felt herself still fading to the point she couldn’t speak without losing concentration.

He nodded, tears falling from his eyes, “O-of course, I know that. I love you too, so much. But you have to let go, Annie. I love you, but you need to let go now.”

Annie looked at him and shook her head, but he kissed her forehead, “Please, you can’t keep doing this.”

And with that, she fell into a pile of ash. There were a few reasons Peter wanted her to let go. The main reason was because if she stayed for another few moments she would’ve heard what he said next.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.”

Tag List (ask if you wanna be added for future works/ the sequel): @flushings-here / @moonstruckholland / @gaypanda / @twilightparker / @parkerpuff / @ironmaxn / @lcy-thot / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @dolphinsarecuteandstuff

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x oc #spider-man #spider-man x oc #spider-man x reader #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man: far from home #mcu #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel spiderman #fanfiction #all i ask of you fic

16 notes · View notes

fartandsoul · 7 years ago

Note

this would b rly cute w sonyamary: "I almost asked you to the Winter Ball in high school fifteen years ago, but chickened out, but now we’re both home for Christmas and single and maybe we’ve got a second chance?"

is kj.....answering asks again......(the answer is kind of)

“sofia? sofia rostova?”

the voice sounds familiar, but in the midst of the coffee shop chatter, sonya can’t quite place it. she looks up from her coffee and tries to keep her mouth from falling open in surprise. is that...?

“hi, i don’t know if you remember me...mary bolkonskya? we went to high school together.”

shaking her surprise away, sonya gets to her feet and hugs mary. “yeah, hi! i didn’t expect to see you here--how are you? how’s andrei?”

“he’s fine! actually, i’m here getting coffee for him before i pick him up at the airport.” mary checks her watch. “he’s home for christmas, like me. how are you?”

“i’m good, but don’t let me keep you if you have to get going,” sonya says.

“no, no, i have time. i wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.”

the silence lasts half a beat too long this time, and they both begin to speak at once.

“it’s-”

“well-”

“sorry, go ahead.”

“i was going to say it’s great to see you again,” sonya says. “and here of all places.”

“what do you mean?” mary frowns, looking confused.

sonya realizes a second too late that there’s no good way to say i used to come here every day to study just because you used to stop in for tea sometimes and i still remember your order (medium lavender green tea, extra hot) fifteen years later.

she adjusts her scarf while her mind flails for something to say instead. “oh, i thought you used to work here...maybe i’m remembering someone else. it’s been a while.”

mary laughs. “that’s okay.” a shout from the barista calls her attention away. “oh, that’s andrei’s drink -- i have to go, but i hope you have a great holiday.”

“thanks,” sonya says, wishing she could disappear. “you too!”

mary leaves with a wave, and sonya sits to nurse her now-cold coffee.

god. she’s still so pretty. she sighs, trying to go back to the article she was reading before mary showed up to derail her thoughts. but her mind won’t stop whirring, bringing up memory after memory that she hasn’t recalled in years but which now resurface easily.

***

winter ball posters blanketed the halls in blue and white. sonya tried to ignore them as she pushed through the crowds of students with her head down, but it was impossible not to think about it when a new Big Ask happened every five minutes. cheers at the end of the hall told her that another one had just said yes.

sonya sighed. she would have just gone with nikolai as friends, but he was already going with vaska, and natasha was going with pierre, so she couldn’t tag along with them either. it was just her. no date. and no dress.

natasha had gone dress shopping a week ago and found something beautiful in minutes, of course, but sonya hadn’t tried anything on, no matter how many dresses natasha held up in front of her with a squeal of, “oh, you would look so pretty in this!”

she deposited books into her locker with a thud, but the sound of the next door locker opening sent a bolt of anxiety through her. shit.

“hi, sonya!” it was mary. tall, willowy, beautiful as ever, and flashing that smile as she leaned over from her locker.

sonya’s mind rocketed into orbit, unnecessarily conjuring a scene of mary in a dress, arm in arm with sonya as they stepped into the gymnasium, which was decked out for winter ball. sonya pushed the image away. mary wasn’t all that popular either, but she was far too smart for sonya.

“sonya? you okay?”

sonya blinked. “yes, fine.” her gaze flicked upwards, anywhere but mary’s face, and landed on one of the posters. “do you--i mean, are you going to winter ball?”

“i wasn’t planning to,” mary said, looking away.

“oh.

“are you?”

“no, i wasn’t going to either,” sonya said. ask her! screamed her brain. with a deep breath, she opened her mouth again, but the bell rang and mary closed her locker.

“see you,” mary said, and walked away, head down.

***

an hour has passed by the time sonya starts her car, and the sunset gleams behind the moscow rooftops. less than a week until christmas, and then...what? back to late nights alone with the cat and a book, back to early morning carpools to the nonprofit with pierre and natasha, back to matching her socks to her scarf every day even though nobody would know.

not a bad life, really. she loves the last tendrils of sunrise that she gets to watch on the drive to work as she sips the hot drink natasha always presses into her hands when she slides into the back seat. and she loves the cat, no matter how much of its hair she has to brush off her uniform in the mornings.

“i just...i want somebody to know what socks i’m wearing,” sonya says to the air. somebody besides the cat who will greet her as she slides her shoes off at the end of the day. it’s a tiny thing, but it hurts sometimes.

sonya parks and takes the stairs to her apartment. inside the door, she kicks off her shoes and stares down at her socks: black and white checks to match her black and white scarf. the cat obscures her view a moment later, winding around her shins.

she reaches down to pet it absentmindedly, then, on impulse, pulls out her phone. it’s been fifteen years, but...

sonya (7:15 pm): hey, i know it’s been a while, but do you still have andrei’s number?

natasha (7:16 pm): yeah, of course! he was just texting pierre that he’s back in town for christmas. what do you need it for?

natasha (7:16 pm): attachment, contact card: Andrei Bolkonsky

sonya (7:18 pm): thanks!

natasha (7:19 pm): no wait you have to tell me what’s going on

sonya laughs and swipes natasha’s message away. if this works out she’ll have a lot more to talk about later. she inputs the number into her phone, types a message to andrei, and hits send.

a quick series of texts later and she has it. the contact icon is depressingly blank, but sonya can still see mary’s smile in her mind’s eye. her thumb hovers over the keyboard, and she’s gritting her teeth in preparation to type when the phone starts ringing. an unknown number.

“hello?”

“it’s mary. andrei told me you wanted my number?”

sonya almost drops the phone. “yeah, i-uh, was just thinking i should have asked for it earlier when i saw you,”

“i was thinking the same”

“would you-would you want to get coffee sometime? while you’re in town?”

“yeah! yeah, sure, i’d love to catch up”

sonya closes her eyes. after all, why not? why not? “yes, that would be great too, but i was thinking more of...a date.”

the silence lasts only a second, but in sonya’s mind mary takes years to respond. “i...i’d love to.”

the rest of the call is a blur. sonya hangs up minutes later with her hands shaking, the smile on her face beginning to hurt her cheeks.

sonya (7:49 pm): tasha, i have great news

#the real question is...is kj not fucking. seasonally depressed anymore?#is it over for this year?#the answer is who knows #is this version of mary incredibly ooc for no discernable reason?#the answer is fuck yes but i'm publishing this anyway #sonyamary #tgc #tgc hc #my fic #kj speaks #fic and hcs #Anonymous

22 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years ago

Text

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Episode 6 Marvel, Captain America, MCU Easter Eggs

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Episode 6 spoilers and potential spoilers for the wider MCU.

Well, it’s finally here. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier episode 6 was an action-packed, but rather messy season finale for the show. Hopefully it isn’t a series finale, and we’ll see it continue in season 2 as Captain America and the Winter Soldier, but that’s an argument for another time.

For now, we’re here (as usual) to dig in to all the Marvel Comics and MCU references the show gave us this episode. We’ll be honest, it was relatively light on those, but there’s still plenty to speculate about. And if you spot anything we missed, be sure to let us know in the comments!

The New Captain America

Sam’s incredibly sharp-looking Captain America costume is a perfect live action translation of the version he wore in the comics. That costume was designed by Carlos Pacheco, and first hit the pages of Marvel Comics in October of 2014, in All-New Captain America #1. Even then, it felt like a perfectly movie-ready design, but to see it translated to beautifully to live action is a real treat, and this is an immediate contender for “best superhero movie or TV suit” right now. The additional stars and stripes motif added to the underside of the wings here seems to be an MCU flourish, but that’s just one little way they managed to improve on perfection.

It’s safe to assume that Sam’s new wings are vibranium, or at least vibranium laced, just like his shield, considering that it was made for him by the tech geniuses in Black Panther‘s Wakanda. There’s something to be said here about how America is stronger when it works with and accepts help from its allies, as opposed to going it alone. Just witness how much better Sam’s wings hold up under pressure than Walker’s homemade shield.

Similarly, Sam primarily uses the shield and the wings for defense. Compare that to how Walker wields his shield, as a slashing/bludgeoning weapon for offense. It’s a nice illustration of two different interpretations about how best to utilize America’s power.

Bucky

Bucky’s leap from a barrier-crashing motorcycle in episode 6 is a nice callback to Steve’s very similar move in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. As a voice barked “stand down” from a SHIELD quinjet, Steve hit a barrier on his bike and was thrown forward into the action.

We also see Bucky straining to open the back of the van with his vibranium arm, but he doesn’t flex as hard as Steve did when he stopped Bucky taking off in a helicopter in that same movie. Both Sam and Bucky reflect elements of what made Steve an exceptional Captain America in the finale, and prove to be a terrific team.

Bucky gives Steve’s notebook to his therapist as a thank you gift. Honestly, she deserves less. It belongs in a museum.

U.S. Agent

John Walker manages to control the effects that the super soldier serum is having on his psyche when he gets a second chance to prove himself, dropping his damaged makeshift shield and realizing he needs to prioritize human lives over vengeance.

Val says that people will need a “US Agent” soon, and not a Captain America, as things are about to get “weird”. US Agent, of course, was the codename Walker took on after he stopped being Captain America in the comics. Speaking of which, Walker’s new costume is basically identical to his Marvel Comics US Agent costume and it looks really great here. We wrote more about the Marvel Comics history of U.S. Agent here.

Why are Val, Walker and his wife back in the courthouse where Walker got court martialed to try on his new US Agent costume? Feels like pandemic-related restrictions forced the show to film all those scenes at the same time, doesn’t it?

Isaiah Bradley

Sam returning to properly make sure Isaiah Bradley gets his due once again mirrors the excellent Truth: Red, White, and Black story by Robert Morales and Kyle Baker. There it was Steve who made sure that Isaiah’s deeds were finally known to the world.

Hopefully this isn’t the last we see of Isaiah, but you can bet we’re going to get more of Elijah down the road. Between introducing two members of the Young Avengers in WandaVision with Billy and Tommy, and the impending arrival of Kate Bishop on Hawkeye later this year, young Elijah is due to get himself some red, white, and blue duds of his own.

Sharon Carter is the Power Broker?

Yes, Sharon Carter is the Power Broker. No, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. She took Sam, Bucky, and Zemo to see super soldier serum scientist Dr. Nagel in his lab. He was working for her! She let that dangerous shit play out, which was very much against her interests! What! No. What! The man must have been confused as hell in his final moments.

Sharon uses the same tech that Natasha Romanoff used to disguise her face during the climax of Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

We find out that Sharon was indeed behind Karli’s initial rise to Flag-Smasher power, after taking her in and giving her a chance in Madripoor. Sharon is willing to forgive the betrayal if Karli and her friends come back to the fold, but Karli’s too far gone for that.

Sharon gets a pardon from the US government. I guess it wasn’t that hard after all. Maybe you could click this link while you’re here.

Is this the first time Sharon has been called Agent Carter in the MCU? And is there some way to bring Peggy back to kick her narrow Power Brokering ass? How dare you besmirch the Carter name, girl.

Sharon’s “mercury vapor” bomb that takes out that poor dude kind of feels like the dust that the Red Skull used to use during the Mark Gruenwald era of the comics to kill people…which left them looking like red skulls. Uh-oh…this brings us to the next question…

Who was Sharon calling at the end? Val? Nick Fury? Her Skrull bosses? Alexander Lukin? Something is definitely wrong here. It’s possible that she’s working with Val to put together a team of Dark Avengers/Thunderbolts, but nothing makes a lot of sense with Sharon’s arc in the MCU in general, let alone this show.

Zemo

That is indeed Zemo’s butler Oeznik (played by Nicholas Pryor) who kills the fuck out of the Flag-Smashers in the police van with a remote controlled incendiary device. What an Evil Jarvis. In any case, Zemo got at least some of his wish, as now there are a few fewer super soldiers running around the MCU.

Among the books that Zemo is reading in his cell is Alexander von Humboldt’s Views of Nature – the German polymath, geographer, naturalist and explorer was the first person to truly make note of human-induced climate change. But we can only assume that the book Zemo is holding close to his heart as he hears the fate of the Flag-Smashers is the Machiavelli tome that Bucky rudely interrupted earlier in the series.

Despite the news saying that there are no suspects in the Flag-Smasher bombing, Val knows straight away that it was Zemo who had “the last laugh”. Huh. “Couldn’t have worked better if I planned it myself,” she jokes. “Oh, well, maybe I did. No, I’m kidding, I didn’t. Or did I?” Who the hell knows, Val.

Batroc

Is Batroc dead? Batroc had better not be dead! We demand more Georges St-Pierre in the MCU! Ze Leaper has managed to escape certain death multiple times in the MCU so far, and we’d like that trend to continue. He’s such a great all-purpose, kinda hapless baddie, that we’d love to just see him show up for the occasional slugfest. Or hell, maybe a Batroc fight can be a kind of “right of passage” for anyone else who has to wear the Captain America costume down the road!

And hey, he even did some leaping in this episode!

The Flag-Smashers

Sam’s face-off with Karli Morgenthau is a lot like Steve’s final face-off with Bucky in Captain America: The Winter Soldier when he tries to talk her down instead of fighting back.

The Raft

The Raft was first introduced to the MCU in Captain America: Civil War, but the fact that they’re going out of their way to mention it multiple times in this show, and the fact that the Flag-Smashers were destined for there (after all, they’re super soldiers) should be an indication of just how important that place is going to be to the MCU going forward. I think we can safely expect both Val and Sharon to be doing some recruiting out of there.

The New Falcon?

We only get a brief moment with Danny Ramirez’s Joaquin Torres, as he gazes adoringly at the TV broadcast with Sam as Captain America, but hopefully we get more of him in the future. After all, Joaquin became the new Falcon when Sam wore the red, white, and blue in the comics, and he DOES have Sam’s old wings.

Where is Steve Rogers?

You know, if they keep making that joke about Steve being “on the moon” maybe there’s gonna turn out to be some truth to it. Is this how the MCU will introduce the “man on the wall” concept from the Original Sin story in Marvel Comics? OK, fine, probably not.

The Bridge

Sam having his first big public moment on a bridge between Manhattan and Brooklyn, where New Yorkers see him, cheer him, and implicitly accept him as a hero feels like moments in Sam Raimi’s first two Spider-Man movies, particularly the Brooklyn Bridge scene in the first one, and the subway car scene in Spider-Man 2. This is decidedly less heavy-handed, though.

Ayla

GRC representative Ayla is not from Marvel Comics. We don’t get her last name, and she shares a first name with extremely obscure Nightstalkers villain Rotwrap. Look, there’s not a lot going on in this episode, we’re trying.

Speaking of things we don’t have a lot on…

“Government Official”

Can you believe that despite appearing in nearly every episode of this show, Alphie Hyorth’s bearded senator is still only named as “government official” in the credits? What are you hiding Marvel?!? Maybe he’s actually Mephisto! (sorry, a little WandaVision humor there)

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

But for real, why would you have a recurring character who ends up central to so many elements of this story and NOT name him? Is he a Skrull? Is he Senator Robert Kelly? (look, we miss all the mutant speculation from the WandaVision days)

Spot anything we missed? Let us know in the comments!

The post The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Episode 6 Marvel, Captain America, MCU Easter Eggs appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3tL3EAE

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

0 notes

arismemeresource · 7 years ago

Text

Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 sentence meme 4/4

“Once it’s on the paper, we feel better.”

“Dear old friend, how goes the war?”

“I wish I were there with death at my heels.”

“How I envy you and your happiness.”

“What more can I write after all that has happened?”

“I’m in deep despair at the misunderstanding there is between us.”

“I shall never be happy again.”

“I must love you or die. If you love me, say yes.”

“How was it I noticed nothing?”

“How could it go so far?”

“It can’t be that they love him, it can’t be.”

“Now you know we love one another!”

“If you only knew how happy I am, you don’t know what love is!”

“It seems to me I’ve loved them a hundred years.”

“I have no will, my life is his.”

“I’m so happy! And so frightened!”

“Everybody raise a glass!”

“Here’s to happiness, freedom and life!”

“May your sorrows be counted and numbered as many as drops of wine and vodka that stay in my glass!”

“You will not enter my house, scoundrel!”

“It’s lucky that he escaped, but I’ll find him.”

“Now you listen to me when I speak to you!”

“Don’t touch me!”

“Who are you to tell me anything?!”

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you about! Where have you been?”

“We need your help, there’s ruin at the door!”

“Married? He’s married?!”

“I don’t consider myself bound to answer questions put to me in that tone.”

“You’re a scoundrel and a blackguard! And I don’t know what deprives me of the pleasure of smashing your head in with this!”

“It’s good to see you. I’ve been away for too long.”

“You told me once that a fallen woman must be forgiven.”

“But I never did say that I could forgive.”

“I know that all is over. I know that it never can be.”

“Don’t speak to me like that, I am not worth it!”

“Stop, stop, stop! You have your whole life before you—”

“Before me? No, all is over for me!“

“If I were not myself but the brightest, handsomest, best man on earth... and if I were free... I would get down on my knees this minute and ask you for your hand... and for your love!”

“Mankind seems so pitiful... So poor. Compared to that softened, grateful, last glance she gave me through her tears.”

#my meme #starter

9 notes · View notes

irreplaceable-ecstasyy · 4 years ago

Note

oop, maryalène but it’s at the end of the show with the comet?

Where to now? Where could she go now? Beautiful white snow dusted the landscape, glowing underneath the rays of moonlight that shone upon Pechistensky Boulevard. The streets were bare of any life, save for the occasional travel of a troika or two, as the night grew old. Footprints trailed in her wake as Hélène Kuragina trudged through the thin layer snow, arms wrapped over her chest as her hands clutched her robe. It was not enough to shield her exposed body that was only clothed in a corset, lace shorts, patterned stockings and black boots. She had insisted that it was enough against the winter chill but how wrong she was. She had refused to take her fur cloak when a servant offered. The only thought that she had in mind was to flee that hellhole of a house and find someone who she thought she still had for she was nearly convinced that she had no one left. Her brother had left to Petersburg, Dolokhov fleeing along with her. As for her husband, Pierre Bezukhova, when did he ever spare a thought for her? Perhaps he did during the earlier times of their marriage, but that was gone. She had one last person in a mind, a name she had never quite expected to cross her mind and that was the Grande Dame of Moscow’s, Marya Dmitrievna herself.

The cold burned her lungs through labored breaths, sobs wracking through her as she pulled herself through the horrendous weather. If the cold took her, what did it matter? No amount of alcohol could numb the ache in her chest and her passing would not matter. Pierre would be free of his unhappy marriage, Anatole and Dolokhov still had one another. No one would be impacted, no one would mourn. It was just another insignificant person gone from the grounds of the earth, another problem rid off.

Ahead of her, she could already see the gate that led to the Akhrosimova estate, dimly lit by the flames that burnt in the streetlamps that had been freshly lit. However, as she continued in her tracks, a bright light in the sky made her pause. Turning to look towards the vast firmament, her eyes widened in awe as her gaze landed upon a comet. How beautifully it glowed as it came crashing down in a haze of glorious flames and light. The stars disappeared behind its halo of illumination, only to reappear as it fell closer to earth. Her brown hues glowed a light honey, glazed over in tears as she watched the phenomenon and the cold seized her in place. Her mind was clear and she breathed in deep the air, the iciness waking up her senses. How could something be so incredible yet so terrifying?

Footsteps approached her from behind but Hélène did not tear her eyes away from the comet, her jaw slightly open as she gaped at the sight. Marya joined the countess’s side, a slightly disappointed look crossing her feature. The Grande Dame had not expected any visitors, yet alone Hélène herself after all that had happened in the past week, but she could not bring herself to be angry at the woman. She had exited her house to scold Hélène when she had seen her from the window of her drawing room but what concerned her most was the lack of clothing to protect her from the cold. Wordlessly, Marya draped her shawl around Hélène for she had worn enough clothing to keep her warm from the cold.

“Have you lost your mind, Kuragina? Walking in the cold in that corset of yours. Brazen hussy. You’ll catch a cold or frostbite,” Marya spoke up sternly. As she adjusted the shawl over Hélène, she noticed the glimmer of tears that shone in her eyes and she felt something inside of her seize. Hélène never cried. “My dear... Are you alright? Why are you crying?”

“I have no one left for me,” Hélène whispered, her eyes still trained on the comet as it descended. “And I became afraid.”

“And you’ve come to my doorstep,” Marya stated rather plainly.

“Well, I was bold enough to assume that there may be someone left... And that was you. But I had expected the cold to take me before I arrived. It’s quite disappointing that it didn’t,” Hélène mumbled hopelessly with a weak smile.

Marya scoffed loudly. “Don’t speak of this nonsense, Kuragin. You should never wish for death upon yourself.”

“No one would care if I died. Not even my own husband.”

“Must you always be so selfish?”

Hélène finally looked at Marya and folded her arms over her chest. “Would you care if I died? After all I’ve done to you...”

“God has taught me to forgive and it is always the right thing to do no matter the mistake because god is always forgiving.”

“I’m asking about you,” Hélène murmured with a shake of her head.

Marya sighed softly and she twisted her head to look at the comet. “If I did not care, I would have left you out here to freeze to death.”

“And here you are. I suppose I did the right thing of trusting my boldness.” And a tear trickled down her cheek then another. “I’m sorry, Marya... For all the wrongs I’ve done you and the harm I have brought to Natasha. I’m not apologizing to buy your favor. I speak genuinely and I ask for you to forgive me.”

Hélène was begging, seeking for Marya’s forgiveness. Marya had never seen Hélène so vulnerable and so broken. The years the countess had spent building herself up to what was idealistic in the eyes of society, it all went to waste as she crumbled into nothing. And Marya was the only witness of the fall of the Queen of Society. She knew Hélène better than anyone, better than Pierre or Anatole, much to anyone’s surprise. She had seen how this women climbed from a princess to a countess and now she had just seen her downfall. Lord, the misfortunes of the world were cruel and Marya could not help but feel sorry, love and tenderness for her. The old flame flickered back to life from the pathetic excuse of a fire that she had tried so hard to extinguish. Marya extended her arms to Hélène and the younger woman slid into her arms. She buried her face into the older woman’s shoulder, letting out a sob as the tears broke free of its restraints. Marya held her close, rubbing circles along the small of her back, then pressed a loving kiss to Hélène’s temple.

“I forgive you, Elena... And I’ve never stopped caring for you.”

Hélène broke into a smile and she clutched on to Marya, so afraid to let go. She was not alone and the hope she had lost blossomed inside of her once more. Neither of them pulled away, relishing in the warmth of their bodies pressed against one another. Marya watched the comet descend and Hélène readjusted herself in Marya’s arms to watch it disappear behind the vast mountains in the distance. Hélène tucked her head in the crook of Marya’s neck, her cheek pressed againt her shoulder while Marya rested her cheek against the top of Hélène’s head and her arms enveloped the other’s waist. The cold faded away now that they had each other, and the world opened wide, their hearts blossoming into a new life.

#the great comet #maryalene #marlene #Natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812 #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #the great comet of 1812 #marya dmitryevna akhrosimova #marya dimitrievna #helene kuragina #helene bezukhova #i've never done stuff like this on tumblr but this was fun #nat.writes

34 notes · View notes