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greetingfromthedead · 4 months ago

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13. Solstice

Series: Apple Blossoms Pairing: Knives x GN!Reader Word count: 6.7k

Author's Note: Happy Holidays, my loves! Whatever you do or don't celebrate, I have a present for you... or perhaps even two? For everyone, I have an extra long festive chapter! And for my thirsty little munchkins I have the first BONUS chapter (18+ only, it's not plot relevant so no worries if you can't or don't want to read it)! Read this one first before moving on to the other one <3

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Knives continues to stare daggers, cursing the cloak that occasionally whips itself into his line of sight. Is this really the best option? He has been in silent protest since you decided to risk your own life to help an armed stranger, and it only got worse once you gleefully announced that the stranger, called Carl, could travel with the two of you. But is this arrangement really the best? You had consoled Knives that you would share a tomas with Carl since you know that Knives isn't a big fan of anyone getting into his personal space. So there you are, riding ahead with Carl holding on to you with his feeble hands. Knives sees how the other man huddles close to you, sheltering himself from the wind. The stranger might look fragile, but he still has the gun. Maybe he lied, and it is loaded after all. He could so easily snuff out your life, and Knives would be out of a guide. Anxiety bubbles in his guts at that thought. It would have been a better idea to have you share a tomas with him. He knows what a tight fit it would be, but at least then you couldn't get so foolishly shot. Carl could still ride off with your bird, but from what Knives has seen and what you have told him, both toma are very attached to you and wouldn't just go with a stranger. It would have been best to let that man rot in the desert. Or at least have him make his own way back to the settlement. Of course you wouldn't let that happen, naive as you are in Knives's eyes.

He is frustrated with the whole situation. From you sharing a tomas with the strange man to his brain conjuring up vivid images of you sharing with him. Knives is familiar with the curve of your body from the day you snuggled up to him. He knows the tightness of your grip. He can imagine your arms around him as your front presses against his back. He can almost feel how perfectly your body would fit against his, like a puzzle piece. It's like he can see you sitting in front of him, your warm body against his chest as you press yourself into him to shelter from the wind. He can envision himself looking over your shoulder. He can picture whispering warnings into your ear, talking as close to your face as Stephen had. You wouldn't pull away; you would be unshakable and brave. What irritating nonsense.

Pain radiates from Knives's side as he digs his fingers into the wound. The white-hot flash wipes his mind clear from all the unwelcome thoughts. His lips press into a line, trapping the groan that wants to escape him. He needs to focus; he needs to throw aside all the distractions that have appeared. He has to remember who he is and who you are. This has to stop; he cannot rely on you. He cannot count on a human to be anything but a disappointment. He has to regain his independence and leave you behind as soon as you have filled your role. He has to ignore all the strange feelings that have appeared in his gut after being defeated. Perhaps he is defective now, betrayed by his own body. That must be it. Just the aftermath of an injury. He can blame his body, but his mind has never failed him.

For the rest of the way, Knives grits his teeth and does his best to not even look over to you. His eyes wander over the desert, occasionally examining the settlement you're approaching. The town's silhouette is largely made up of wind turbines that slowly rotate in the hot desert breeze. As it comes more into view, Knives can see that there is a wall around the area; it looks to be made out of a curving piece of spaceship hull. Every structure he can see looks to be made out of metal. Perhaps a part of Octovern's ship crashed nearby to this spot all those years ago.

The strong winds carry hints of your voice as you speak to Carl. Your words get drowned out, but your tone is unmistakable in Knives's ears. It draws his gaze, and he sees you smiling as you talk. The annoying fluttering appears again, making him want to dig his fingers into his guts and rip them out. He sees your side profile, the spark in your eye, and the flash of teeth as you speak with a stupid grin. You look happy. You don't look like that when you speak to him. There is always concern and restraint in your face even when you do smile at him. Why do you seem different with that stranger? Someone who threatened your life. The tingle in his gut is accompanied by something heavy as he hears a second voice replying to you. Carl chuckles weakly and says something that gets drowned out by the howling of the wind. You laugh in response, continuing your conversation.

By the time you reach Fairvale's gates, Knives feels like throwing Carl off the tomas himself. His fingers grip the reins so tightly that his nails dig into the palms of his hands. His heart races with anger and frustration, desperate for some form of release, and the travel companion seems like the perfect target. But Knives keeps his walls high; the expression on his face is distant and uninterested, revealing nothing of the turmoil within. His back is straight, and he avoids looking in your direction even as you get off your tomas and start to speak to a guard.

"Where are you coming from, and what is the purpose of your visit?" the guard asks, firm but not malicious.

"We're coming from the western settlements. We're here for shelter and trades," you speak calmly, your tone friendly and kind.

"You're from the west? Silvercrest?" the man asks more sharply.

"Among others, yes. I'm a doctor of sorts. I was there to treat the wounded. I can confirm that neither I nor my companions have the disease. If my word is not enough for you, I ask for you to get the mayor or the innkeep. They can vouch for me," you continue just as calmly, ignoring the guard's change of tone.

"Doc!" a distant cry reaches your group. It is high-pitched and yelled with every ounce of air in someone's lungs. "Hey! Doc! Is that you?!"

Everyone glances around for a second before reaching the same conclusion and looking up. On the wall separating the settlement from the rest of the desert are a bunch of scrappy-looking children. They lean forward, far over the ledge, to wave with wide smiles, their grins missing more than a few teeth in total.

"Get off the wall, kids!" the guard shouts upward, but they all ignore him, some pulling back but laughing at the man's attempt at authority.

"Are you here for the festival?" the same kid as before shouts down at you.

"The festival?" you say more quietly before your face lights up and you yell back. "When is it?"

"Tonight! Man, I thought you were smart!" the kid taunts.

Knives looks at the dirty kid. He is covered in dust and grime; his clothes look worn and torn. One strap of his suspenders is just hanging loosely, not serving a purpose. Knives isn't quite sure, but he thinks the kid to be a boy.

"You better let them in, Bob, or my mom will be pissed!" the boy continues, a wide smile splitting his face. "And she's even scarier than you!"

The guard sighs in defeat as his chin drops down to his chest. He seems unhappy with this turn of events, but no real anger appears in his demeanor.

"So you're the Doc. I've heard so much about you," he mutters and raises his gaze to look at you. "You've done much good for many people. And the kid is right; his mom will be pissed if I turn you away. So in you go. Enjoy your stay."

The guard still looks a bit displeased, but he opens the gates anyway and allows you all to enter. You lead your tomas by the headgear, Carl still sitting in the saddle. Knives rides his bird inside the walls too, looking around from under his hood, observing the people milling about.

The gate closes again, and the main purpose of the wall becomes clear. It serves to protect from the relentless wind that turns the turbines. The street doesn't even have enough of a breeze to rustle through your cloaks. It is peaceful here in the town made out of metal scraps. Music carries over the open space, people talk excitedly, and all in all there seem to be more people here than fit into the residential buildings lining the streets and alleys.

"If today is the festival, there should be more people here. Usually the streets would be packed," you say quietly, more to yourself than to anybody else. A sadness creeps into your voice as you think about all the lives that have been snuffed out by famine and war.

Loud bangs on metal pull you out of your thoughts again, and you look up to see the gaggle of children jump from roof to roof, finally descending along a rusty ladder to stand in front of you.

"You better get going! It's getting dark soon! You better be ready!" the young boy exclaims and then reaches out his fist, "Happy solstice!"

You put your palm under his, and he plops a small but shiny rock into your hand. It looks pretty, tiny crystals shimmering in the fading light.

"Thank you! I wish I had something to give you, but I really didn't realize what day it is," you say with a pang of guilt.

"Don't worry! You gave me my mom back. You couldn't possibly top that gift anyway!" he grins.

"Happy solstice, Danny!" You smile at him before turning to the rest of the gang, "And you too!"

A choir of mismatched thank yous and well wishes fills the air, and you smile so brightly that it makes Knives forget everything around him until a passerby pushes his tomas out of the way to get through the street.

"Would you do me a favor?" you ask the children, and most of them nod after looking at each other. "I have a new friend here. His name is Carl, and he could use some guidance. Would you show him to The Kitchen? Tell Bertha he needs a job."

"Will do!" Danny salutes you, sticking his chest out and turning to the skinny man who carefully climbs down the tomas. "Bertha will make you get rid of that beard, I can tell you that!"

The children surround Carl and start to lead him away. You wave and smile as Carl says his thanks to you. Knives is finally rid of this nuisance, but he is not quite satisfied with this outcome. He did not get to let out any of his built-up frustration.

"Where did you send him off to?" Knives asks, a sliver of hope remaining that perhaps the fate of Carl is one befitting his crime.

"The Kitchen. It's Bertha's buffet, let's call it. She will put him to work in exchange for shelter, food, and pay. She'll help him back on his feet," you say kindly, starting to walk down the street, leading your tomas with you.

You stop in front of a large and clunky building. It looks like many different boxes stacked one atop the other, but on closer inspection there are balconies and windows facing every way. You tie your tomas to a post and pick up your bags from the saddle. Knives follows your lead, leaving his bird right next to yours before accompanying you inside.

"Do my eyes deceive me?!" a shrill voice calls over the entire foyer. Many people turn their heads to look at the woman behind the reception. She is holding a small dog with one of her hands, handing out a key with the other. Her eyes remain on you as she speaks to her customer, "Yes, yes, take the key and go upstairs; just find the door with the matching number. I believe in you! Now please make room for the next guest!"

The customer grumbles something as he takes the key and steps aside, but when the person behind him tries to take his place, the woman waves with her hand and tuts loudly, clearly indicating that they are not the customer she was talking about.

"Now, now, wait your turn!" she exclaims, the small fluffy dog growling at the line in front of the reception table, "You, darling, come here! Let me have a closer look at you!"

She gestures at you to come closer, and you raise your hands as a show that you can wait in line like the rest, a shy smile on your lips.

"Don't give me this song and dance! You don't stand in lines in my establishment! Now come here, or nobody will get a room!" she says, full of bravado, and pointing directly at you. Her words are followed by a wave of murmured complaints by the other customers.

You approach her in defeat, everyone sending you and Knives sharp looks as you walk over to the table.

"So, my love, what will it be? A romantic suite with a grand view for two lovebirds? I have the perfect room in mind!" she says gleefully.

"Oh, no, we'd like two single rooms, please. But we wouldn't mind the view." You smile at the old friend and see her eyes narrowing as she measures both you and Knives.

"How disappointing! I really thought we'd have something to celebrate beside the solstice today! But it looks like you're just toying with my poor old heartstrings," she speaks loudly and dramatically, still holding the dog as she turns to pick out your keys. "Last time you saved my life when that tricky ticker started to act up, and now you're the one to break it in two. My poor Danny will become an orphan after all!"

"Lucille, please, don't talk like that!" You try to settle her, but it's like she can't hear you at all.

"He looks like a handsome one too! Tall and strong!" A flood of words continues to pour over her painted lips. "If only I could peek under that hood!" The woman tries to catch a glimpse by contorting her body, but Knives just looks to the side. "If only I were 10 years younger! I would definitely make a move on him, but I'm nothing but an old crone in the eyes of such a strapping young man!"

"You'd have to shave at least 30 years off to have a chance!" A different customer chimes in from the side, only to get a deadly stare from the woman.

"Alright, alright, two rooms it is! I'll put you down as Doc and Mr. Handsome. Deal? Deal! I assume you have toma with you?"

"Yes, two. They are tied up in the front," you say calmly, glad for the change in subject.

"I'll have Danny take care of them," she responds kindly to you before turning towards a backdoor and yelling in a shrill voice, "Danny! Danny?"

"I actually saw him just a moment ago. He was outside with his friends," you explain, hoping to ease her tone.

"That boy! He is supposed to do homework! When I catch him…" she trails off, shaking her head in frustration. "Anyway, don't you worry about it; I'll take care of it!"

She tosses you two keys, and you catch them clumsily, not expecting her to throw them to you. Lucille laughs and turns to the next customer behind you.

"Wait." You try to catch her attention again. "How much do I owe you?"

"How much do you owe me? Darling, don't be ridiculous! I owe you my life! As long as I own this inn, you will always have the best and most romantic views for free! And when Danny owns this, he better do the same, or I will haunt him from beyond the grave! Now go, go, you're holding up the line! Just head up the stairs, all the way, and you'll find your rooms!"

There is a mischievous glint in her eyes as she glances at you from the corner of her eye. She quickly turns to the next person, and the line takes a step forward, forcing you towards the stairs. Your gaze shifts from the stairs to the busy woman and back again, wondering if there is any use arguing and then remembering clearly who Lucille is. There is no point at all in wasting your breath. With slight reluctance, you give Knives one of the keys before starting the journey upward.

The stairs are narrow as they ascend towards the higher floors. Everything about this building is a patchwork—rooms are welded together, mismatched metal panels cover the walls, and even the stairs differ every time there is a new level to be reached. Sometimes they curve one way, sometimes the other, occasionally they reach straight up, and sometimes the steps are at an angle. You focus all your efforts on going up those treacherous stairs. So much so that you keep getting caught on doorknobs and balusters with the straps of your cumbersome bags.

Suddenly the weight is gone from your shoulder, right after getting caught on something again. As you look over to find what happened to the bag, you see Knives's large hand clutch the top of your saddlebag, and he takes it from you without even looking you in the face. He has pushed off his hood so you can clearly see him looking to the side.

"You don't have to!" you start to protest as he throws it over his own shoulder.

"We'll make it up the stairs faster this way," he replies nonchalantly, looking as if he is bored to death.

"Oh, alright," you turn back, feeling like you're getting in his way.

After you adjust the remaining bag to sit in the middle of your back, you no longer get stuck on anything and quite quickly find yourself on the uppermost landing, a few doors surrounding the alcove. All of them have mismatched numbers on them, making it easy to discern which are yours. Your key opens the first door with a click, and you push it open, revealing a decently sized room with the opposite wall being made out of glass, overlooking the twilight town.

"Oh wow!" you exclaim as you step inside, the bag sliding off your shoulder as you go to take in the view. "This is incredible!"

A small thud sounds from beside the door as Knives puts down your other bag. His eyes linger on you the whole time as your silhouette steps to stand right in front of the large window, your hands reaching up to touch the metal frame of one section of the glass.

"It's even prettier than I remembered!" you say softly, the smile so clear in your voice. You turn halfway around, reaching out your hand as if inviting Knives to take it. "Come here! Come look!"

Knives stands frozen for a moment, his fingers still outstretched from releasing the bag. Something about the way you look in that moment, from the way you stand in front of the backdrop of dim light to your smile and excitement, makes him think of angels. It's like you're glowing. It makes his heart beat harder in his chest; he can almost hear the rush of blood in his ears. His mouth is dry, and it feels like he has forgotten how to control his body.

"Knives?" You speak his name softly, like a piece of melody. He hears music again, just bits and pieces, but he isn't sure if it is in his head or if they make their way in from outside the window. "Don't be shy! I'll even give you space. See?"

You step to the side, and Knives steps closer to the window, but his eyes stay on you instead of looking outside. Why did you have to step away? Couldn't you have stayed where you were? He could have stood behind you while looking outside. Why do you pull away from him for the second time in one day? Knives's thoughts are only interrupted once you turn your gaze away to look at the unfurling view. He follows your lead to see the last sliver of sunlight disappear behind the horizon.

You're high up. This room overlooks the town, and the settlement itself is built on the edge of a steep cliff. The ground disappears into nothingness before appearing again far, far away. The sky is painted in a magnificent array of colors, blending together seamlessly from bright orange to a soft purple. The town itself is dotted with lamps and lights, and with each second that it gets darker, more appear. Strings of bulbs light up between buildings like pearls, both small and big. The moons become brighter too in the sky, like large spotlights. Everything starts to glow in the countless sources of brightness.

"Isn't this gorgeous?" you say with a sense of wonder.

"But why?" Knives asks instead, his eyes shifting from light to light as if counting stars.

"It's the longest night of the year," you explain. "It gets dark so early, robbing us of daylight, so this town has its own tradition of illuminating the solstice night with as many lights as they can come up with. It will only get prettier from here on out! We better hurry! I am starving, and I'm sure so are you!"

Knives takes the excuse to leave your room and find his own right next to yours. He drops his things and takes a deep breath. His heart still beats faster than it should, a strange feeling in his chest. His fingers reach across his body but shift upward from the wound in his side, clutching his shirt that lays over the spot where he feels the discomfort. His fingers curl, pushing upward as if wanting to close around his own throat.

You didn't see the shift in Knives's being. To you he looked guarded as always. You wish once again to peek into his mind, just to get an idea of what goes on inside his head. You want him to open up, to talk to you and reveal what kind of person he really is. But the whole range of emotions you are able to pick up from him is disgust, boredom, and general displeasure. You can tell when he pouts; it's a small difference, but it is there, namely, he avoids looking at you as if he would turn into stone if he did.

The balcony door creaks as you pull it open. Immediately your room floods with a cooler breeze and the sound of music coming from down below. It feels lively and inviting as it makes its way into every corner of your unlit room. You start humming along while you lay out your things from your bags. The organizing you did this morning helps you to throw aside the dirty clothes without having to go through everything and the few clean pieces you put on the bed. All your other supplies find their places in the room too, making sure all is accessible whenever you might need it.

How ironic of you to tell Knives to hurry when you find yourself wasting time. But your mind was so captivated by the beauty of the festivities and settling in that you lost track of time. Quickly you grab your clean clothes and the towel from your bed and open the bathroom door. Light floods into your dark room together with some steam as you stand frozen in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at Knives. He has a towel wrapped low around his hips, leaving his upper body exposed. Water drips from his wet, slicked-back hair and rolls down along his toned muscles and scars. You can't help but feel a rush of heat spread through your body, a bright blush collecting on your cheeks. He turns his head, his blue eyes meeting yours. He looks surprised, but not nearly as horrified as you feel inside. You can't keep eye contact with him, so your gaze travels downward, over his wide chest and lean waist to his navel and the V of his hipbones. You can see the defined muscles of his abdomen flexing as he breathes. You stare for a moment too long, getting more and more flustered before you manage to rip your eyes away.

"Sorry!" you almost yell before backing out and slamming the door. Only then do you realize you've been holding your breath from the shock, letting out a deep sigh. "Damn you, Lucille!"

You curse the innkeep in your head. That sly woman knew exactly what she was doing when she gave you those two specific rooms with the conjoined bathroom. She has always been a nosy meddler, yet you did not expect her to pull a stunt like this on you. Just as you try to get a grip on yourself again in the dark room, a knock sounds from the door. You put your clothes and towel back before moving to the door, flicking on the lights, and opening it.

"That crazy woman made me run up all these stairs!" Danny complains loudly as he catches his breath, leaning on the doorframe with one hand, a basket in his other. "She will be the death of me! All I did was skip out on some homework!"

You smile as the boy complains loudly about his mother, reaching the basket towards you. He no longer wears the old and dirty clothes from before, instead he has something reminiscent of a uniform: a white button-up shirt and dark pants with suspenders.

"I don't know what kind of picnic she expects you to have here, but at least you don't have to put up with the rest of the folk downstairs! They are hangrier than usual!" Danny continues to speak as you take the basket. His mannerisms are a lot like his mother's, from the fast talking to the way he says words.

"Thank you, Danny!" you respond with gratitude.

"Whatever! I better get back before she makes me bring something else up here. Toodles!" He waves and jogs away, disappearing down the set of stairs.

With curiosity, you peek under the cloth covering the goods while you back into your room again. You spot boxes, dishware, and even some kind of bottle. It is hard to see while shuffling around with one hand. Delicious scents waft from inside, fresh bread and something sweet. It makes your stomach gurgle in anticipation. Following the suspicion in your guts, you go to the balcony and find yourself to be correct—it too is conjoined with the room next door. Two chairs wait there side by side, and you leave the basket on one of them. You hear footsteps in Knives's room, and without peeking in through the massive window, you knock on the glass.

"There is some food here. Help yourself; I'll go get cleaned off!" You announce to Knives before returning to your room and getting back to what you wanted to do in the first place.

Inside the bathroom you see that the opposing door looks very much like a regular wall panel. Unless you know, it is easy to ignore it, but since you're aware, you make sure to lock both of the doors. It is still humid and warm inside the room from Knives's shower, the mirror fogged up except for a spot he wiped clear. You see your own reflection there, staring back at you. Your chest feels heavy with unprocessed feelings and thoughts. Things you worry about and things you do your very best to ignore. There is only so long you can keep them buried before they resurface. Sooner or later, something will have to give. Tonight is not the time for any of this, though, so you turn away, getting undressed before stepping into the shower.

Not wanting to waste water, you quickly wash the sand and sweat from your greasy hair, scrubbing your body from the caked-on dirt. The hot water rinses away some of the tension that has been gathering on your shoulders for a long while. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh of relief. You will not think about any of this tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, but not today. With a creak, you turn off the faucet and reach for the towel, drying off as best as you can before pulling on the comfy clean clothes. It is good to feel human again.

Another loud complaint escapes your stomach, reminding you to get a move on. You step into your lit bedroom but promptly decide to turn off the lamps, leaving the window as the only source of light. You throw today's clothes in the pile with the rest of your laundry when your book catches your attention. For a moment you hesitate, but then pick it up, leaving it loosely wrapped in a patterned scarf.

You don't expect to see Knives on the balcony, let alone anything else that awaits you. A small table has appeared between the two chairs that now face each other. The table is set with the cloth that covered the basket, and two sets of dishes are neatly placed on top, separated by lit candles and a bottle of wine. Scattered around the empty space on the table are different containers filled with simple foods: meats, some cheese, vegetables, and fresh bread. The table is beautifully set for a romantic dinner. It is horrifying.

"What is this?" you ask Knives as you lift your gaze to look at him putting away the basket.

"Was that not what I was meant to do?" He retorts, his voice a mix of confusion and defensiveness, but you can tell he is trying his best to seem as uninterested as always.

"What do you mean?" You remain lost as if you're talking past each other.

"The note," he replies, pulling a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his button-up shirt.

You take the cardboard note from between his fingers and read: Everything to set a festive table.

"Lucille!" you sigh heavily, feeling a blush appearing on your cheeks. "Sorry, I didn't know this was in there. I thought it was just food. You didn't have to do all this."

"Well, it is done now." Knives's voice gets colder, and his head turns away, looking at the lit-up town, faint music and singing reaching your ears. "You might as well enjoy it."

You hesitate a moment before sitting down at the table, quietly putting the wrapped-up book under your chair. You look at everything that is laid out in front of you, still feeling embarrassed for this misunderstanding. Knives avoids looking at you as he starts picking out foods to put on his plate. He doesn't sit down and remains quiet. You can't bring yourself to look at him either, still mortified about what he might be thinking or what he thought before you told him that you had no idea about this. Only when he picks up his plate and turns away from the table do your eyes snap up.

"Knives?" You speak up, and you watch him freeze, making you question the words you're about to speak. "Would you sit with me?"

He looks tense, his shoulders raised, reminding you of an agitated cat. He doesn't say anything. Doesn't turn around either. You regret asking that of him.

"You don't have to. Feel free to eat in your own room. It was just a… suggestion," you feel a bit defeated.

You turn your gaze to the table, so you don't see him looking over his shoulder before turning around. He takes a measured step closer and puts the plate back on the table. He sits down, still tense and filled with strange feelings, but he doesn't hide his gaze as you look up at him. His expression is different in the dim light than what you're used to. It looks a touch softer, a little less guarded. But maybe you just imagine it.

Without knowing what to say, you shift your focus to picking up some food. Smearing soft butter on the fresh bread, laying vegetables on your plate. The silence between you would be deafening if it weren't for the distant music echoing from the buildings below. It is awkward and weird. You catch a glimpse of Knives taking the bottle of wine to pull the cork off and filling his own glass before tilting the bottle towards you, silently asking if you would like some too. With your mouth in a tight smile, you lift your glass, muttering thanks as he pours the red liquid in it.

You eat in silence, using the lights as an excuse to look away from the table and your companion. The view is spectacular, with the town's lights twinkling like stars, occasionally swinging in the wind if they reach above the walls surrounding the settlement. Your mind wanders to the previous years when you've been here when a familiar smell wafts through the air.

"What is this scent?" Knives asks at the same moment.

"Oh, I didn't think they would have it. They must have had it left over from last year. It is a very special incense, an important part of the festivities," you smile to yourself. You are glad for a subject to talk about to ease the silent tension.

"What purpose does it serve?" His voice remains calm and level, but it is so clear and pleasant in your ears.

"Does everything need to serve a purpose?" you ask with amusement, turning towards him and meeting his eyes. "But in this case it does. There are two schools of thought when it comes to celebrating the solstice here. One is that if you already turn the night into day, you should appreciate it and not let it go to waste. You should fill it with things that bring you happiness. With music and dancing, drinking and eating. Not to mention all kinds of other debaucheries. For these people, the incense amplifies the joys, making the world a more colorful place. And then there are those people who are of the mindset that the longest night of the year should be treated almost like any other, slept away while dreaming of everything you want in life. Of a better world. Of a better future. For those people, the incense will fill their sleep with the most vivid images, giving sweet dreams even to those who usually don't see anything at all. One doesn't always remember the dreams in the morning, but the joy remains. I guess we happened to get here at a perfect time for you. Another sleepless night or blissful dreams, whatever you choose, you'll probably find delight in it."

"And what school do you belong in?" he asks, a new kind of softness in his eyes.

"Who knows?" you tease, choosing to keep the answer to yourself.

Dinner gets easier after that, some of the rigid awkwardness dissolving into light conversation about this town and your previous visits. The two of you share some minor smiles, talking about nothing substantial as you pass the time. When the food is almost gone and the wine stains your lips, you gather your courage again, picking up the book from under your chair.

"I've noticed that wherever we are, you always gravitate towards any books you can see. You flip through their pages; you trace their spines. Even if you don't read them, you still seem to hold a special appreciation for them," you speak softly before reaching out the cloth-wrapped book over the table for Knives to take. "Happy holidays!"

He carefully takes the bundle, pushing the corners of the scarf aside to reveal an old book. It used to have gilded lettering on the cover, but now there is nothing left of the title besides a few flecks of golden foil. The cloth edges have started to fray, the pages yellowed and scratched, sometimes dog-eared and carrying scars of being wrinkled before. He opens it, letting the old papers fan out between his fingers.

"It's not new by any means. It has had many owners before me. It has been read and loved for a long time. It has traveled with me for years, but I think you deserve to have it now," you smile as he flips through the book, revealing poems one after the other and someone's handwritten additions made in fading pencil. "As far as I know, these are old poems from Earth."

"This whole book is from Earth," he says, a look of fascination in his eyes. "It hasn't been bound here, not even fabricated on a spaceship. It is hand bound with care and attention to detail, a souvenir from a different planet."

"You can tell?" you're surprised.

"Yes," he replies before raising his eyes from the book to look at you. "Thank you. But I don't have anything in return."

"It's okay," you assure.

"No," he sighs, overtaken by weird feelings again that fill his head and guts with static. "Ask me anything you want. One question, and I swear I will answer it truthfully. You must have a million of them."

It is true. A conga line of questions parades through your head. There are so many things you have wondered about ever since he came into your care, and very few have found an answer that doesn't raise multiple new unknowns. But there is only one that truly matters.

"How are you?"

Knives's eyes widen in surprise as he is unable to mask the shock. Out of everything you could have chosen to ask, you chose this simple three-word question that is more complicated than anything else. You could have asked how his injuries have healed so quickly. You could have asked if he really was the one to threaten humanity's very existence. You could have asked about his crimes or even his intentions. He would have had no trouble giving you the truth as he sees it. To tell you plainly even the most horrendous of details. But you didn't ask anything like that.You asked something he hasn't figured out yet.

How can he give you a truthful answer when he doesn't understand what is happening to him? Knives doesn't understand why hearing his name come from your mouth makes the world stop, why it makes him freeze in place, why it makes his intestines disappear into a pit full of emptiness that somehow comes alive and fills his stomach, pushing against his lungs that already feel tight because of the heart that beats so wildly in his chest. How can he answer when his mind is wiped clean of thoughts and reason when he notices the candlelight dance in your eyes? He doesn't know how he is because he has never felt this way before. He can't put a name to this sickness that only you seem to bring out in him.

Don't forget to check out the BONUS chapter 13.5 below (with a GN! reader still). It is a saucy little extra for those who read NSFW stuff and are, ofc, of an appropriate age. It does NOT contain anything that would be truly plot relevant, so no worries if you skip it. Enjoy!

« Previous | 🔞 13.5 🔞 | Next »

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doe-eyed-fool · 1 year ago

Text

Fallen {Chapter Twenty Six}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

It had been a few weeks after that wonderful day. Alastor and I had decided to keep our new relationship just between us for now. This all happened so suddenly, we were still trying to catch up ourselves. We didn't think we wanted everyone to know so soon.

Or anyone else at that, especially the overlords of Hell. If they knew, it could bring trouble to both me and Alastor. So for now until further notice, this relationship would be our little secret.

Though, Alastor found it hard to contain himself. He was around me before, but now, he was practically tied to my hip. He would always stand so close to me around the other, and when no one was paying attention, he'd let his hand rest on my lower back comfortingly. Aside from little things like that, we wouldn't make much effort to be so publicly affectionate.

However, when it was just the two of us. Things couldn't have been sweeter. Alastor would always have his hands on mine, holding me close, which would turn into a slow dance between us.

Alastor would have loved nothing more to announce to all of Hell, his love for me proudly. But knew better than to do something so impulsive. So he kept his love private, and just for me.

I wasn't any better. I slowly grew more and more use to being in a relationship again, and I couldn't be happier. I had hoped I didn't come off as too clingy whenever I was around Alastor, though, he's never said anything about it. If anything, he welcomed it.

I was so touched to know he trusted me enough to be so intimate with him. He never once rejected my touch, as he would for a stranger.

I trusted him as well. To never betray my love, to never hurt me. And so far, he's been nothing but loyal and true to his word.

"Y/n? I have a question for you." Alastor says as he turns away from his radio set up. "Yes?" I ask, approaching him. Alastor rests his hands on my hips, a kind smiling forming on his lips. "I know this might come off as sudden or improper but...How would you feel about moving in with me?"

"Move in with you?" I repeat. "You want me to move in with you?" I couldn't help but smile. "I do." Alastor hums swaying me slightly, in an almost waltz fashion. I giggle. "If you wouldn't mind it, I would be happy to."

"Oh, my darling." Alastor pulls me closer to him. "Of course I don't mind. I'll have whatever you need moved right away."

"I just have one request." I tell him. "What's that?" Alastor asks. "Make sure your shadow friends respect my privacy." I say jokingly. I had gotten the chance to become familiar with Alastor's shadow, and learning there were plenty more shadows and minions creeping around unseen. Ready to be summoned at any moment by their master.

Alastor chuckles. "Noted."

"Good." I say before resting my head on his chest. I then let out a light sigh. "Is something the matter?" Alastor gazed down at me with a questioning look. "Just thinking..." I mutter. "About what?" Asked Alastor. I take a moment before answering.

"How I wished it was you I met when I was alive, instead of him..."

Alastor hums. "I don't think you'd want that. I wasn't a good man, you know. I believe I've told you of my hobbies in my living days."

"I guess." I shrug. "Would I have been one of those unfortunate souls you enjoyed hunting?" Alastor takes my chin with his fingers, and gently made me face up at him. "I would have perused you, yes...But not for the reasons you're thinking." I let out an airy laugh. "How romantic."

"I am an expert at it, after all." Alastor says jokingly. "You're not too bad." I start. "You're treating me quite well, for someone who's never been in a relationship before."

"Well, I feel it's common sense to treat your partner with love and respect." Alastor chuckles.

"A lot of people don't know that." I say. "Thankfully, I managed to find someone who does. Even if he is a murderous, cannibalistic, demon from hell."

"It can't get much better than that." Alastor adds with a smirk. I laugh. "No, I don't think it does."

Later that day, Alastor had did as he promised and moved my stuff to his home. It was rather easy, considering he could do it with just a snap of his fingers. I was happy to start living with Alastor. I'd always be with him now, I'd get to see him everyday. And I didn't have to hide my true appearance anymore.

At least not while I was staying there. Leaving the house and going to the hotel was a different story.

I removed my necklace and looked into the mirror. It's been a minute since I've seen my real self. As I transformed, a few of my feathers fell from my wings. "Again?" I ask myself. I run my hands through my wings, a few more fell out into my grasp. "What is going on?" I mutter.

Alastor then walked into the room. "Hello, my baby!" He greeted me in a sing-song fashion. He then noticed the confused, and slightly concerned, look on my face. "Is something wrong?" He asks, approaching me.

"My feathers are falling out." I answer, showing him the few feathers in my hand. He took one and examined it. "How odd. Do angels molt?" He asks. I shake my head. "No. Maybe...it's stress? But, what could I be stressed about?"

"Well, this is a big step in our relationship. Perhaps you're a little anxious, moving from one place to another." Alastor suggests. "I guess?" I say with a shrug. "I'm not going to worry about this. It might make it worse if I do." I sigh.

"It's probably best if you didn't. For now at least. But in the meantime..." A mischievous grin formed on Alastor's face. Before I knew what was going on, I was being lifted up and carried to a near by love seat. I was sat on his lap, as he held me close.

"I demand affection!"

"But I need to finish unpacking." I protest. "Later." Alastor said simply before gently pressing my head to his chest. I roll my eyes playfully before snuggling into him. "You're lucky I love you."

When I felt Alastor tense is when I realized what I had just said. My eyes went wide and my heart stopped a second before picking up. I open my mouth to say something, but Alastor beat me to it.

"You love me?"

His tone of voice when he asked that, was one I never heard from him before. Quiet and unsure, as if he heard me wrong, or that I didn't mean it.

My face was hot, my heart racing. Guess there was no taking it back now. Not that I would. I did mean it after all.

"I do." I say softly, looking up at him. "I know that might be sudden, but, I really do love you Alastor. You make me so happy."

Alastor leaned down to plant a kiss onto my head. "I love you too." He says quietly. I smile brightly before taking his face with my hands. "Then kiss me properly." I laugh. Alastor didn't hesitate to do just that.

After a minute or two, we parted. Alastor just stared at me for a while, his eyes held mine in a soft gaze. "I'd love you in just about any form my dear, but the real you..." He took my hand and kissed it. "You take my breath away."

"Alastor, you flirt." I say jokingly, trying to ignore the heat pooling in my cheeks. "It's true." Alastor says, kissing my wrist next. He then left a trail of kisses up my arm, to my shoulder. "Anyone would be a blind fool to disagree." I was sure my face was red now, steam might as well have been spouting from my ears.

He kissed up my shoulder to my collar bones, then to my neck. It wasn't a sexual gesture, Alastor has made his feelings clear about things like that. No, this was a gentle and loving gesture. Just as passionate, just as intimate.

"Alastor..." I sigh softly. "Mon chér." Alastor whispers.

The moment was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. Alastor drew away from me, alert, as he held me tight. His shadow then formed next to him. "Go see who it is, and come right back to tell me." Alastor instructed. The shadow nodded before sinking into the floor once again.

"Alastor? What is it?" I ask in a hushed tone. "No one should know how to reach this place..." He answered, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Within seconds, his shadow returned. "Well?" Alastor prompts.

His shadow spoke, I couldn't understand what it was saying. Though Alastor knew, as his expression turned from cautious to slightly annoyed. "I see." He mutters. He then sets me aside on the love seat before standing.

"Apologies, my love. I'll be right back." Before he left, he summoned my necklace and handed it to me. "Just in case." He says before walking away. I put the necklace on, and watched in confusion as he made his way out of the room.

Alastor walked to the front door and opened it, he looked down to see a familiar face. "Hiya Al!" Standing before him, was his oldest friend. "Mimzy." He greets simply. "How did you get here?" He asks. Mimzy raises an eyebrow before sighing. "Figures, you wouldn't remember." She says with a roll of her eyes. "You brought me here after getting drunk off your keester. Remember? You tried teleporting three different times, before you came back to my lounge and whined for me to help you home?"

Alastor's grin strained, his eye twitched slightly. "Ah...I see..."

"And speaking of getting drunk, I brought your favorite!" Mimzy takes a bottle of liquor from her purse and handed it to Alastor. She then walks past him into the house. "You would not believe the night I had." She starts to ramble. Alastor accepted the situation and closed the front door, following and listening to the shorter woman.

"This bum thought he could pull a fast one on me, and not pay for his drinks. Well, I told him otherwise and and had Vinny and Johnny take care of him. Got my money alright, and even a hefty tip."

She goes on. "Al, I just don't understand it. Where did all the gentlemen go? Huh? It seems like you're the only one with any class! All these losers down here ain't got nothing better to do than to try and scam and disrespect a poor little lady, such as my self!"

Alastor hummed, barely paying much attention as he walked with her.

"Alastor? Is everything alright?"

Alastor and Mimzy turned their attention to me. I was standing in the doorway of the living room, when my eyes landed on the small flapper girl. Who was this?

"My, my Al!" Mimzy looks to me then to Alastor. "And here I thought you weren't about this kind of thing." She approaches me. "Hiya, the name's Mimzy. Who might you be, doll?"

"Y/n." I answer. "Y/n, what a pretty name. Now tell me, what in hell have you been doing hiding from me all this time? The the first I hear Alastor's found himself a woman, and I'm only just now finding out." She then turns to Alastor.

"And you Al, how could you not introduce me sooner?"

"Y/n." Alastor starts. "This is Mimzy, I believe I've told you about her." Ah. So this was that Mimzy.

"You have, have ya?" Mimzy smirks. "Better be all good things." I nod my head. "Yes, all good things." I confirm. "And, things that the police wouldn't like hearing." Mimzy's eyebrows shot up. "You told her?" She asks. "I want no secrets between us, of course I told her." Said Alastor.

"I can't say I'm fine with it, but, I know better than to worry about Alastor hurting me. And, really he's done nothing but help me since I arrived in Hell. He's even protected me against someone that shall not be mentioned." I tell her.

"Mhm." Alastor hums lightly. "Y/nhas been rather pleasant to be around. As you might imagine, we didn't click at first. But now, there is no separating us."

"I dare anyone to try..." He says with a static filled growl.

"I never thought I'd see the day." Mimzy murmurs. "Alright Al, you better take good care of her. You too missy. Al is a good friend of mine, I don't want his heart getting broken." Alastor walks to my side and wraps an arm around my waist. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Same here." I say, leaning into him.

"Oh, aren't you two just the cutest!?" Mimzy squeals. "Oh, we have got to get together some time! Maybe at my lounge?" She suggests. "That sounds lovely, however, we are keeping our relationship as private as we can. I wouldn't want any attention drawn to us, and create a potential problem." Alastor tells her. But Mimzy waves it off like nothing.

"I have private rooms just for that. Come on, you won't have anything to worry about!" She says, then looks at me. "What do you think, Y/n?" She asks. I give it some thought. "Well, it does sound nice. As long as you promise we won't be seen."

"Then it's a date! Consider everything taken care of, ya lovebirds!"

Tag List-

@krak-jj

@martinys-world

@cherry-cola-100

@wonderlandangelsposts

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #mimzy #hazbin mimzy #hazbin hotel mimzy

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deadmenandthedivine · 11 months ago

Text

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter seventeen: last suppers and sealed deals

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, sexual situations (consensual § nonconsensual), imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, disassociation, thoughts of self harm and annihilation, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 8820

“She was not so uptight in our youth!” Rhaenyra defended with a nostalgic smile, “We used to be friends once.”

“And I used to be a Faith Militant.” Daemon snorted as he finished off his goblet.

“You jest, yet your eccentricity suggests otherwise.”

Clearly tired of being outdone and outranked that day, the old prince huffed at his wife’s words. “The High Septon and I were only good friends.”

Although the humor didn’t quite reach the eyes of Rhaenyra and Maetilda, the table laughed. Joffrey cackled the hardest despite not quite knowing what was funny. There was a false sense of lightness in the air as everyone sort of pretended they were not mad at anyone, that everything was all a joke. Yet a dark entity lingered in the corner that they all ignored. One that could lash out at any moment.

“Joke all you want. Alicent and I were friends for a very long time, good friends. The real kind.”

“What happened?” Jace inquired curiously. His voice distorted by the bandaging and swelling around his nose.

“My father married her.”

Both Jace and Luke glanced at their sister-by-marriage before looking back toward their mother. Rhaenyra stroked her swelling belly as she ate.

“Otto plotted all of it. Your father has always trusted him too much.” Daemon grumbled.

In sudden frustration, Rhaenyra shook her head, “Let us stop this conversation. Talk about something else.”

The room fell silent aside from the light patter of rats' feet in and out of the walls of Rhaenyra’s old solar. Another room that had thankfully been left untouched. Maetilda scanned the table with her eyes for any verbal escape.

Joffrey quickly piped up, “Viserys cried all day today!”

“He did? What did the wet nurse do?” Daemon questioned, leaning forward.

“She rocked him and sang to him and fed him and bathed him! His face turned red! He wouldn’t stop!”

“Yes, he must have been angry at something.” Rhaenyra nodded as she furrowed her eyebrows, “He was very tired by this afternoon.”

“Do you plan to birth our sister here in King’s Landing?” Jacaerys wondered aloud, the nasally ‘a’ in landing made the table hold back giggles.

“You three older boys were all born here. Right in my chambers.”

“Me too?” Joffrey gasped.

“Yes, my prince! You were the third!” Rhaenyra smiled at the youngest of the Velaryon boys.

Jacaerys perked up, “Will we come to stay when she arrives?”

Rhaenyra playfully chided her eldest, “We don’t know what the baby will be yet, Jace—“

“I hope it’s a girl!” Joffrey announced.

“But yes, of course you shall come stay.” She finished.

“As long as you’re here, will you make it look normal again?” Luke chimed in.

“Perhaps not by the Worm Moon or by the baby’s arrival, but in time.”

Maetilda finally gathered the strength to ask a question of her own, “If the baby comes after I am wed, may I stay until she does?”

The older two brothers looked to their sister in unison. Dressed finely with her hair now fixed neat. She was to wed the man who stole Baela’s dragon and broke Jacaerys’s nose. She was to betray her brothers, and disappear off to a castle they had never seen before. Clear out in the mountainous Vale. The princess could only hope they would forgive her with time. As she thought of Princess Rhaenys’s words from earlier, Maetilda wondered what kind of future her brothers envisioned. If it still included her after that afternoon. Certainly, it was one of Jace taking over the Throne after his mother and Luke would have the Salt Throne from Lord Corlys. She could not possibly threaten that. Not in Rhaenyra’s solar or in the future. Her betrothed was a second son with no castles to his name. He was no threat either. Only the Hightower side of him.

“Of course, I shall see to it.” Rhaenyra nodded, “You must be here to meet your sister.”

“See! You even admit the babe is a girl!” Luke teased his mother.

“I said nothing of the sort!” She gasped before taking a gulp of tea from her goblet.

Daemon chuckled, “Shall we place bets?”

“I will not have you teaching my sons to gamble before they even carry their own coin purse!” Rhaenyra scolded.

The Rogue Prince rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. Maetilda finished off her own goblet. A servant came to refill it, but she simply grabbed the pitcher itself from their hands. Personally filling her goblet to the brim and leaving it on the table in front of her. She could feel eyes watch her as she carelessly slurped the top until she could safely pick up her drink without spilling. The new red wine was bitter and dry, but it became tolerable the more she drank.

“Thirsty, Lady of Runestone?” Luke barked with laughter.

“Absolutely parched.” The princess retorted, eyes narrowed in opposition.

He smirked back as he briefly held his goblet out, “Would you like mine too?”

With a challenge laid before her, the princess was not about to back down. She was her father’s daughter after all. It was in her nature. Just as a dragon could not help but set fields of crops and livestock ablaze. Her younger brother was trying to provoke her, that much was obvious. He had not had his fill of turmoil that afternoon. He sought to finish what he started.

“Certainly, if you should be too small to finish it.” Maetilda smiled back.

“Give it here, Luke.” Jace grumbled, trying to take the drink from his younger brother who dodged him.

“It looked like Til needed it more than me.” Lucerys chuckled with a sip as he teased his older brother, “I’m not sharing with you!”

Jace puffed out his chest, proud smirk smeared across his face, “Very well. And I shall remember next time Driftmark needs my assistance!”

Luke scoffed, “Driftmark? Need your help?” The shake in his voice paired with the darting around of his eyes betrayed his air of confidence.

“With Rhaena in charge, Driftmark shall thrive.” Maetilda smiled mischievously, “Do not listen to him, Luke, we shall all be gray by the time Jace sits the throne.”

“Long live our queen.” A smug Daemon interjected.

“Just because we are in my private solar does not mean you may talk so freely.” Rhaenyra stroked her stomach.

“If the servants hear me, should I be charged with treason?” Her father rolled his eyes. “Does my brother’s bitch scare you so?”

“You should act to the standard your name suggests or be held accountable.” The future Queen stated resolutely.

“Of course, your grace.” His words did not match his tone.

A fire burned behind both pairs of eyes as the long-wedded couple stared each other down menacingly from opposite ends of the table. The princess was exhausted from it, from her day, from everything and everyone. She could hardly stomach the sight of them. Which only encouraged her to drink more. To the point where she could feel it pooling in her stomach. It was unbecoming of her. Something she only recently began to care more about. Perfection. Although she was not quite certain what perfection looked like, she knew she had to have it. She had to embody the very meaning of the word, live it and breathe it until she and the word became one. Perhaps then, she would see a day without an outburst from her father. Perhaps then, she would be able to breathe easy. Like Rhaenys did. Like Laena and Rhaena, and even Baela. Like Queen Alysanne herself. Until then, she could only pretend. Mimic what she saw in them and hope she had done it right.

His words suggested submission, something her father did not do easily. He would much rather fall on his own sword than kneel before another. The King seemed to be the only exception, his older brother by four years. And even then, Prince Daemon’s patience only looked like it grew more thin. It was no secret that before Rhaenyra had been named heir, Daemon would have been the one to fulfill the role. But even Ser Otto Hightower preferred a woman to the Rogue Prince. That would be his legacy. Both of their legacies. No matter how deep the rivalry ran, they would both be two men close enough to the Throne to taste its power — get drunk on it — but would never get close enough to actually wield it.

“We shall leave for Dragonstone on the morrow. When I come back, I will set things right in this castle. While we are apart, I expect you all to reflect on your behavior during this stay. It’s shameful, on all of us. Word of what happened today will travel — word of everything that’s happened. Tell me, have we inspired much loyalty during our time here?” Rhaenyra spoke with a slow and menacing authority in her tone.

The table shamefully hung their heads. Jace, Luke, Maetilda, even Joffrey. All except for Daemon, who only smirked back at his wife.

“We have. We managed to bring the King to his Throne, while his second-in-command has clearly been keeping him from it. We have reminded them who we are. Towers are nothing, but a dragon’s chew toy.”

“There is no proof for such accusations, Daemon. We do not know they are behind it.” Rhaenyra was firm before softening to point out, “Father was sick before we left.”

“Not. like. that.”

The chair scratched against the stone floor as the Rogue Prince shot to his feet and grumbled out the solar. The door shut loudly behind him before the room was smothered in silence. Maetilda watched as Jace and Luke exchanged looks in the unspoken language only they knew. They had an entire conversation without moving a muscle. Occasionally, the two would take turns glancing at their mother. Following their eyes over to her, Rhaenyra sat deadly still. Hand mid-stroke across her stomach. Her eyes were fixed on where her husband had been. She was frozen for a short moment before she blinked herself back into reality.

“Are any of you still hungry?” Rhaenyra asked.

“I want dessert!” Joffrey proclaimed.

“Dessert!” The older boys smiled.

Maetilda glanced down at her plate. Mostly empty. She had several servings of spiced pork, to the point where the greens and pomegranate couldn’t be finished. The thought of eating more made her stomach churn, “May I be excused? I am done eating.”

“Yes, my dear. Have a good rest.” Rhaenyra nodded.

“Not parched anymore?” Luke teased.

“I have thrown carafes before, do not tempt me to do it again.”

“Where was all this in the maester’s solar? I only got involved because it was the honorable thing to do.” He pressed, mocking her earlier words.

“That remains true. Throwing the carafe after you’ve been given ample notice is the honorable thing to do — honoring my word.” The princess sassed, “But because I am civilized, I shall choose not to, given the day we have had. Thank you again for throwing blows at my betrothed.”

“Of course! Need I remind you that he is the one who broke my nose?” Jace retorted.

“And who was the one who took his eye?” Maetilda fired back.

“Children.” Rhaenyra brought her authoritative voice back out, gaining the three’s attention.

In the midst of everything, Joffrey had run to her side and clung to her apprehensively. The tension was thick as Maetilda felt an anger brew in her similar to the one she had at dinner with the Queen. The princess could feel it in her shoulders, squared defensively.

“Him of all people.” Jace shook his head in disappointment.

“I did not choose him.”

“You do not behave as such.”

“And what do you expect me to do?”

“Make him see reason!”

“I cannot even make you see reason!” The princess by title stood to her feet, “When you return to this castle, return with an apology.”

Before he could respond, she turned around and stormed out of the room. Much like her father had. Ser Gunthor had been waiting on just the other side. His face dropped when he saw the tornado in her head, the scowl that dragged down her face. She stormed down the corridor in a random direction, not entirely sure of the way back to her own chambers. As much as she thought she had a good sense of direction after seeing a path at least once, the Red Keep had a way of making her question everything. From which corridor led where, to whether or not her own family still cared for her at all. All the uncertainty felt like a knife to the heart. It made her stomach bubble. She could feel it in her throat. Her limbs shook with each step. Her arms shook at her sides. Never in her life had she been so utterly alone and righteously angered.

The more she thought, the more certain Maetilda was that her siblings would never speak to her again. Perhaps Rhaena would, but only if Baela was not in ear shot. And she could not blame them. If Maetilda were in their shoes, she would probably feel the same. Once they got word that she demanded an apology from her brothers, there would be nothing nice left to say. They had supported her a few days ago, but she would never see it again. Maetilda’s betrothed broke Jacaerys’s nose, and she demanded an apology from him. She could already hear the impassioned arguments. As her mind ran faster than her feet, she could not hear the sound of her knight’s armor. Nor could she hear him ask if she knew where she was going. It was not until he sped up his pace until he passed her and parked himself promptly in her direct path that she finally remembered he was there. Only then did she stop. But with the emotions coursing through her, she felt too still. Her fingers played with each other as her weight went from foot to foot.

“Mi’lady—“

“Do you think I have betrayed my family?”

“Princess, you shouldn’t talk like that. Especially here.”

“I do not like that they are leaving while I stay here.”

“This shall be the first time you’ll be properly away from Prince Daemon since you were a babe.”

“I wish my mother was still here. Everything would be better.”

“Aye, it would be. ‘Can’t contest you there, mi’lady. But you and I both know the Stranger likes her too much to ever give her back. ‘Bet she’s the only one who can drink ‘em under the table.”

A smile ghosted the princess’s face, “From the stories I have heard, there would be no greater contest.”

“One day, hopefully when we’re both old and shitting ourselves again, we shall get to see it.”

“Are you suggesting that you have stopped?” Her joke almost went unnoticed through the seriousness of her delivery. She simply could not help herself when it came to teasing Ser Gunthor.

The knight’s eyes bolted around the two of them for any witnesses, “There is no need to announce that to the whole castle!”

A bit of the tension visibly left the princess as she halfheartedly laughed. The knight joined in a bit more boisterously. Like the two old friends they were. They had a humor that only they shared. From the years of spending day after day together. He knew her as well as any of her brothers.

“Now that’s out of the way,” Ser Gunthor sighed as his laughter settled down, only for him to giggle through his next question, “Do you know where you’re going, mi’lady?”

In that moment, she looked around her to find that she did not recognize the corridor they were in at all. Her vision had tunneled in her turmoil, and had most definitely made a wrong turn. Embarrassed, she looked back at her knight with her head hung low. “Do you know the way?”

Ser Gunthor chuckled, “Hardly, but if we put our heads together, we should have more luck, yeah?”

With a nod from the princess, they were off down the corridor again. This time at a more level headed pace. They used various familiar looking green tapestries and Faith of the Seven statues to guide their way. It took longer than it should have, but they eventually made it to the wing of bedrooms that contained her chambers. Her two handmaids were already waiting for her when the knight opened the door. Ser Gunthor bid her good night before shutting the wood door behind her, staying guard outside it. Her chambers felt cold at the loss of his presence. A part of her wished her knight could have simply sat with her as she was readied for bed. But that would never be appropriate. Her name would forever be tarnished, more than it already was.

The handmaids had less work this time around in taking down her hair. No impossible rats or tangles. The updo was undone into a single thick braid that cascaded down to her tailbone. Adelyn secured the bottom well before both handmaids worked to undress Maetilda and help her into her nightgown. The two worked silently. Not a single hummed note or whispered word under one’s breath. The princess missed the Pentoshi songs and the warm chatter. She missed learning new things about the two baseborn girls with a thousand stories. She missed her old handmaids too, Kayla and Loreyne. The ones who remained behind at Dragonstone, and always would. They knew her better than anyone, better than her own family. The sensitive parts of her scalp, her favorite flowers, the best way to wake her up in the morning, how she liked the temperature of her bath. They read her better than any book. They knew her in and out.

But she would never see them again, not until she returned to Dragonstone. The possibility of which only seemed to dwindle. Instead she would have Noarysa and Adelyn for as long as she remained at the Red Keep. Only six days prior, the two had been as good as strangers. And in only six days, they had earned their princess’s trust. They had proved themselves the most consistent and most reliable two in the entire castle. While there was always the possibility they were telling someone everything they knew, the princess seemed to get the sense that they cared. At least, she wanted to think that they did. They would only have each other for three more moons, and however much longer it took for her new sibling to arrive. Perhaps they would be assigned to her upon her visits to see Aemond and Helaena, but there was no guarantee.

The thought of Aemond made Maetilda uneasy. The image of him storming out of Maester Orwyle’s solar was engraved in her mind. She was certain she would never forget it. He had not looked at her once. Aside from when the maester saw to her very minor injuries. It filled her with worry. She hoped he would make good on the promises he made her, that he hadn’t changed his mind after everything that had happened. His callousness was enough to make her question. He was going to go through with the wedding, that much had been made clear. But would he live at the Red Keep all his life? Would he risk daily confrontations with her brothers once Rhaenyra was Queen? Would they ever find a way to get along? Common ground or understanding? With such uncertainty, would Aemond force his way into Runestone? Would he demand she let him live there? Would her people look to him over her if she were to allow it to happen? Would she allow it all to happen? Or would she even have a choice in the matter?

As the princess had been lost in the depths of her own mind, she almost did not realize her two handmaids had finished their duties and turned to leave. Timidly, she called after them to let them know her father would break fast with her in the morning before wishing them a good evening. They smiled warmly at her, lingering by the door.

“Would you like help getting into bed, Princess?” Noarysa inquired sweetly.

“Thank you, I am afraid I am far too restless.” Maetilda declined, “I shall see you both in the morning.”

The two sweetly curtsied before the door clicked shut behind them. And then it was almost silent. Barefoot and clad in her nightgown, the princess vacantly stood in the middle of the room. Eyes fixed on the door through which her maids left. She felt hollow, filled only with anxiousness, remnants of anger, and the pitcher of wine in her gut. It weakened her legs, made them more malleable. Her arms were loose and limp. Her throat was dry, as if it were coated in a thin film when she swallowed. The light pitter-patter of rats occasionally echoed between the walls. It was a maddening sound. Some tiny feet scurried off into the distance while others only grew closer. The rats certainly knew where the secret passages were. They certainly used them to run about the castle. With only the rat catchers to stop them.

In her solitude, all she could think of were her siblings. Their faces of disgust and betrayal and anger. They hated her. The princess did not know how it all happened so fast. Any of it. Just days ago, she had stood in the corridors with her brothers refusing to swing at a belligerent Aegon first. The three had been as close as ever. They had giggled down the passage until their cheeks were red. At the time, she couldn’t have imagined anything different.

Only evenings prior, she had thrown wine and a carafe at Aegon. All because he had prevented Luke from stepping in between Aemond and Jace. He had done the same thing the princess was just doing that afternoon. He stood up for his brother. He kept the fight fair. Baela’s actions that afternoon were no different than what she herself had done at dinner with the King. What made everything so different? Had she truly switched sides? That had been the last thought on her mind as she dove for her sister. Yet whether her actions had been intentional or not, there was no doubt her father would do something about it. Something that would most likely hurt. And there was no promise he had the patience to wait until their morning meal to deliver his revenge. Perhaps it would be easier in the cloak of night.

The evening air was chilly as the princess opened the door to her balcony. The breeze stung slightly as it cooled her cheeks, a subtle reminder that her day had been real. Her family’s entire stay at the Red Keep had all been real. Not a dream, real. As much as she wished she could wake up from it all like a nightmare, consequences would still be waiting for her when the sun came up. Unknown consequences that only caused her to spiral the more she speculated about them. Perhaps if she were lucky, the sun would never come up. If she were lucky, everything looming over her would simply disappear. All of her troubles and consequences would cease to exist, and all of her family would all get along. If it were a dream, perhaps such things would be possible.

The small stack of books from the library sat at her bedside table. Her eyes were glued to them. Practically in a trance. While alone, all she could do was think. No one had scolded her for the other night. For wandering about the castle late at night, scantily clad in nothing but a nightgown, only to steal books from the Royal Library. If she had been seen by the wrong person, such behavior could have been yet another blow to Princess Rhaenyra’s name. Yet she hadn’t been scolded for it. Although, nothing could have been more disastrous for the King’s Heir than what took place that afternoon. All of her children of age had been involved and only one of Queen Alicent’s. Yet Maetilda had hardly been scolded for that. She felt like she was walking into some sort of trap, but she had no idea what it was or what triggered it. All she knew is that she wanted her siblings back. If they would ever agree to have her again. Filled with an anxious energy, the princess grabbed the book on top and took a seat upon the chaise lounge.

The Mighty Histories of the Bronze Kings. It was the smallest out of the books she had taken. She hoped its size would make it easier to read. Bound in a dark brown leather with bronze titling, she carefully bent the book open to the first page. The Preface, written by Maester Seban.

“In my many years at Runestone following Aegon’s ascension to the Iron Throne, it was my pleasure to learn of the Vale’s extensive culture, steeped in thousands of years of history. A history that cannot be discussed without first discussing the many Bronze Kings. I was honored to collect my information through many conversations with various different members of the mountain people. Former regality, merchant class, and peasants alike. All of which shall be accredited accordingly.

My accounts shall serve as proof that not even those as stubborn and mighty as rocks saw it in their best interest to bend the knee to our great King. May he also conquer the deserts.”

She read the preface over three times before the words on the page could fully process them without distraction. Before she understood what was being said. A quiet two-tap knock sounded from within her chambers, only a small distance away from where she sat. Picking her head up from the book, she saw nothing out of place. Just like when she awoke from her bad dream the other night. Her chambers were eerily untouched. Nonetheless, she felt a presence. As if the cloaked figure was back again. In an effort to make it appear, she looked back down, clamping her eyes shut for a moment, before looking back up again. Nothing. Putting her book in the seat beside her, the princess stood to look around. Still nothing. She looked out onto her balcony. Finding nothing out of place there, she closed the doors and latched them before pulling the curtains closed.

Facing the room again, it remained empty. She expected the cloaked figure to jump out at any moment. As if it was waiting for her to let her guard down. But the last thing she wanted to do was give the spirit the upper hand. Deciding to face her fears head-on, the princess began checking the corners and crevice of her chambers. Under the bed, in the wardrobe, behind the bookshelf, anywhere she could think. Yet in the midst of her hunt, she did not see the new guest enter. By the time she turned back to the rest of the room, there was a figure standing before her, but it was not the cloaked ghost. It was Aemond. He had knocked before entering, through an entrance that was not the door. He had knocked just as he had promised.

“I thought you were the ghost.” She whispered.

“Do I haunt you so?” Aemond quipped smugly, just as quiet.

“Presently, it seems. Yes.”

“And to think I assumed we were allies now.”

“That’s one way to phrase it. Co-conspirators against the future crown.”

“Shall we take this to the balcony then? So your friend won’t hear us.”

“I did not welcome you into my chambers, my prince.”

“Do you wish to come to my own then? I owe you many thanks for what you did.”

“So thank me now. Why must we go anywhere?”

“Do you trust me, ñuha dōna?” (my sweet)

“No. Not entirely. The way you stormed off without a word. The way you would not even look at me in the maester’s solar. How can I trust that?”

“Ziry vestragon nyke enkagon kirimvose se iā vaoreznuni.” (It seems I owe both thanks and an apology.)

“Kostōba laesi.” (Astute observation.)

The prince grabbed Maetilda’s hands in his own. The action reminded her of the inappropriate attire she was dressed in, but simultaneously prevented her from covering herself. While he meant for it to comfort her, to pull at her heartstrings, his hands only angered her. She fought away from him.

“What words are so important they cannot be said to me tomorrow after my family has left? I’ll be stuck here for three moons. We shall have plenty of time to talk.”

“Please come with me, Princess.”

“No.” She hesitated, voice firm yet quiet, “We have already made too much of a stir today.”

“I cannot sleep. My mind cannot rest until you have heard my words.” His whispered plea pulled at the princess’s insides.

“And I must trust these words are so dire they truly cannot wait until tomorrow to be spoken?”

“Emā pāsagon lēda nyke?” (Do you trust me?)

“You have already gotten an answer to that question. No. If we are caught, I only came because you threatened me.”

“What a tale that should be.” He tried his best to muffle his laugh, “Did I hold a dagger to you as well?”

“Yes, and said you’d end my life if I didn’t do as you bid.”

“You didn’t come that easy. Did you?”

“Of course not.”

“That would be absurd.” He shook his head, “Shall we go?”

The princess did not budge. She only looked back at him, thinking of all the promises he had made her that morning, “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About the tower we shall build you.”

He stilled, making her heartbeat quicken anxiously, “You are the Lady of Runestone. Your castle, your land. But I wish to talk.”

The princess’s heart stopped, “Fine. We can go to the balcony. Let me get my cloak.”

She practically ran to her wardrobe. A fire burned her from the inside out, it was as if her feet felt too hot to touch the ground. With the same shaky quickness, she grabbed her traveling cloak and threw it over her shoulders. Her hands struggled with the fastening. Aemond’s eye lit its own fire across her skin as she stood so vulnerably in front of him. The two stood and stared at each other for what felt like the whole night. Something within Maetilda stirred, did not sit right. She knew how wrong it was for him to be there. She knew they could very easily get caught. But Aemond seemed to know just what to say, knew how to intrigue her just enough so that she could not resist him. He seemed to read her mind without hearing her thoughts. She watched as he adjusted his unlaced tunic before moving to open the doors to the balcony.

It was at that moment that the princess realized how underdressed her betrothed was. He was dressed just as inappropriately, certainly not dressed to be visiting her. She wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps his state of dress had been a symptom of his urgency and running mind. He was too deep in thought to consider the clothes on his back. Or lack thereof. The lacing on his shoes was also undone. Perhaps thrown on as an afterthought in his fervor. Perhaps he had to turn back for them. It was the closest he had ever come to resembling Aegon. The way his trousers hung on his hips reminded the princess of how Aegon’s slipped down his legs as he drunkenly ran down the corridor. How proud the Queen would be. Weighed down by a sheathed dagger, the right side hung down more.

Knowing well enough that all of their parents were already angry at them, Maetilda attempted to confidently stride out onto the balcony. She would much rather be flogged through the streets before allowing the prince to see just how much his words had shaken her. She did not want to give her power to him so easily — or at all. Aemond followed behind her, shutting the doors as a way to further block sound. The princess pulled her cloak around herself again, both for warmth and modesty. The evening breeze was cold at their height. Closer to the ground, the night would have been far more comfortable. Peering downward, ant-sized people carried torches as they moved from place to place. At any other moment, she would’ve been mesmerized and entranced. Unable to pull her eyes away. But the presence behind her kept her at attention. Tense and alert.

“It astounds me how each time I look at you, my breath is taken away all the same.” His voice was still hushed, yet not as quiet as before.

“I don’t like compliments that are given as tricks.”

“You think I wish to trick you?”

“You wish to win me over with flattery before you convince me to reconsider the promise you made. You got into a fight with my brothers, and now you want my castle.”

“Ao vīlībagon aōha mandia, ñuha dōna. Ao tymagon isse se tegon, tepagon aōha brōzi syt nyke. Skorkydoso īlon glaesagon mijegon se tolie?” (You fought your own sister, my sweet. You rolled in the dirt, risked your reputation for me. How could we possibly live apart?)

“Ēza daor yet issare iā jēda. Emi va moriot glaestan mijegon se tolie.” (It has not yet been a fortnight. We have always lived apart.)

“Nyke daor glaesagon mijegon ao, lēda se prūmia eman sir.” (I cannot live apart from you, feeling the way I do now.)

“Se ñuha sombāzmion iksis mērī iā tȳne gūrotrir?” (And my castle is simply an additional reward?)

“Your castle is yours. I do not want it. I want you.”

Maetilda was shell shocked, completely hollow. Her mind went blank. Her heart stopped as if it had never started. His words were so direct they felt exposing. As if with three sentences, he suddenly had full access to every thought and feeling she had ever had. As if he could see through her skin and in her guts. It was something that filled her with panic and terror. As much as her heart pounded, she needed to make him stop.

“Skorkydoso kostagon nyke gīmigon gaomā daor pirtir? Ao kessa mērī ērinagon.” (How can I know you are not lying? You have everything to gain.)

“I am sorry. I deeply regret not bidding you farewell before my departure from the maester’s solar. I do hope you will find it in you to forgive me.”

“It is more than that. You barely acknowledged my presence. I felt like I was going mad. Like you were as disgusted with me as my family.”

“It pains me that you feel so hurt from my actions when I have nothing but pride for yours. The only disgust I have is for your family. Not you.”

“I am a part of my family. You cannot feel disgust for them and not feel that same disgust for me.”

“We shall be a family. Our own family.”

“Bona ao kessa sagon se bartos hen?” (That you shall be the head of?)

“Ñuha giez ābrar, eman mērī mirre udlitan naejot ñuha muña.” (My whole life, I have only ever answered to my mother.)

“Qilōni udligon naejot zirȳla kepa. Mirre aōha ābrar, emā udlitan naejot aōha rōvēgrie kepa.” (Who answers to her father. All your life, you have answered to your grandsire.)

“Sir ao ȳdragon hae aōha kepa.” (Now you sound like your father.)

“He is a smart man. I would be foolish to question his assessments. Vestras ao se aōha rōvēgrie kepa jaelagon ñuha sombāzmion.” (He says you and your grandsire want my castle.)

“Lo nyke jeldan aōha sombāzmion, mazeman ziry. Kesan daor epagon aōha udir ēlī.” (If I wanted your castle, I would take it. I would not ask your permission first.)

“Se Vāle māzigon naejot ao lēda vīlībāzma. Sȳrje daor sylugon ziry.” (And the Vale would declare war against you. Best not try it.)

“I mean to keep my promises to you, Maetilda. In return, I ask that you keep me at your castle. I cannot live my life looking over my shoulder in my own home. Please, you cannot let me live like that.”

The princess hesitated. She wanted to tell him no, to remind them of their agreement. But the look on his face made her second guess. His eye full of desperation as it swam in hers for answers, mouth ajar with worry. His eyebrows were raised in question, causing small creases around the strap of his patch. His expression reminded her of the times when they were little. In the small windows of time they slept under the same roof. Maetilda and Helaena would be off in their own world, Aemond always trailed close behind. Whenever the rest of the boys would run into their trio while playing, they never failed to stop and single little Aemond out. His own brother and nephews took pleasure in taunting him. Calling him a girl, mocking his lack of a dragon, pushing him around. The Kingsguard usually stopped them before it got to blows. Every time it happened, Maetilda always saw that look. A cry for help, for mercy, for peace.

“We do not have to decide this tonight. We can talk about everything after we have both had sleep. After my family leaves.”

“You may have time to think about your response to my proposal. I can sympathize with that.” Aemond nodded resolutely before adjusting the bottom of his tunic, “The issue remains that I cannot sleep.”

“And why is that my concern?”

The prince took small, careful steps forward, “Because it is you that I am thinking about.”

“Picture me counting stitches in a seam. You should fall asleep rather quickly.”

“What was it your father said?” Aemond glanced off for a moment in thought. “I know you wait for my back to turn. You wish to take what is yours.”

“Something of the sort. He won’t give up my castle any easier than me.”

Aemond chuckled breathily, “He was not talking about Runestone, ñuha dōna. He was talking about you.” (my sweet)

“My prince, in order for something to be a joke, it must be funny.”

Before she could react, his hands were cupping her face. Their chests resting against each other. Never had her nightgown felt so thin. Memories of his last visit flashed in her mind. The way he stole her first kiss after professing his love — his desire for love. He had talked to her so differently that night. He had an air of authority, just as her father always did. He spoke of bedding her so eagerly. Just as Aegon had in the corridors. The two were not so different. A realization that scared her. Perhaps as the years went on, Alicent’s eldest sons found common ground. Maetilda had not seen them fight once. Had not heard Aegon insult Aemond even once. The older brother had even stepped to the younger’s defense, at dinner when Lucerys tried to help Jacaerys gang up on Aemond.

“Princess, I would never hurt you.” He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks.

Maetilda stared back in confusion. It was her turn to search his face for answers, “And you think my father would?”

“I know he would. I heard him.” Aemond’s voice was so low and serious, it sent shivers down her spine. But worst of all, he was right, “Your father would hurt anyone for the right reason.”

The princess did not know what to say. She was sure her mouth had flapped open and shut like a fish out of water. She felt like one. Unable to breath as the person who had her on a hook and line sat and watched her flounder. While the prince may have been right, Maetilda was still her father’s eldest daughter. Aemond could not possibly be right. She simply could not accept it.

“Dōna, I do not wish to wait for his back to turn.” (Sweet)

“I beg your pardon?”

“I wish to take you right from beneath his nose.”

Her eyes widened in surprise yet again as she watched the prince’s face jump towards hers, crashing their lips together. Just as the first time, she was frozen in shock. His lips moved against hers while she remained still. One of his hands was clamped around her face, crushing her cheekbone under his thumb. The hand that had been petting her hair locked around the back of her head, ensuring she could not pull away. With his hips, he pinned her against the edge of the balcony. The force of him was heavy. It pinched the vertebrae in her spine as the weight of him bent her backward. No wall stood behind her back to catch her. With nothing to anchor her feet, she felt as if she could flip over the side and plummet down to her death. The image of it played in her head. All the while, Aemond continued to kiss her.

Had it been earlier in the day, she would have welcomed it. She eagerly would have kissed him back. Without question or hesitation. But too much had happened. She felt treacherous and guilty. She felt a pending sense of doom. The hand at the back of her head slipped to the base of her neck, lacing fingers into the back of her scalp and tangling themselves into her braid. Aemond pulled away only to rest his forehead against hers.

“Please, Maetilda. Do not deny me.”

“Ao jaelagon naejot gūrogon nyke. Iksis bisa daor skoros jaelā?” (You wish to take me. Is this not what you want?)

“Jaelan ao.” (I want you.)

“You don’t—”

“Jaelan ao. Jaelan ao. Jaelan ao.” (I want you, I want you, I want you.)

Tears welled in the princess’s eyes as she struggled to shake her head, “Aemond, you can’t. We can’t. Not yet.”

“Maetilda, please, just once. Just once while he is still here. Just once, so he may never deny our union, and then not again until we are wed.”

She could feel the wet trails begin to form down her cheeks, only to be wiped away by thumbs that were not her own. Two hands cupped her face again. Warm, wine and liquor scented breath fanned her into a trance-like state. Her voice was soft, weak, and wavering as she tried to hold her ground, “Mazemilā lēda iā mijegon hen ñuha udir.” (You will take regardless of my word.)

He kissed both cheeks, right next to his thumbs. He kissed her forehead and both temples. He kissed each corner of her mouth before he slowly kissed her again, continuing to bend her backwards. Causing her to yelp. Taking advantage of her open mouth, Aemond caught her bottom lip in between his teeth. He had the grin of a lizard lion, the smirk of a dragon with its dinner in its jaws. She was no different than charred sheep.

“Ilagon syt nyke, dōna. Kostilus.” (Lay down for me, sweet. Please.)

Only then did he peel himself off, giving her back a sense of relief. But Maetilda didn’t move an inch. The two locked eyes for what felt like the longest time. The princess would not dare move. She felt like a mouse, helplessly cornered by a tomcat. One movement and the prince would pounce.

“Lay down, Maetilda.”

Looking down at the balcony floor, she could barely form words, “Here?”

Aemond shushed her as if she were a crying baby. He stepped forward again, “Shh, shh, shh, shhhhh.” His hands came back up again. This time, they unlaced the fastenings on her cloak. Slowly and carefully, so as not to stress a single stitch or seam. “You are in my hands. Do not fret. Nyke kessa mazverdagon ao sȳrkta emā mirre issare gō. I shall give you se vys se skoros ilagon rēbagon ziry.” (I shall make you feel better than you have ever felt before. [I shall give you] the world and what lays beyond it.)

Pulling away from her without breaking their stare down, Aemond swiftly flicked her cloak out like a blanket. The princess’s knees shook at the sight. The prince was serious, the chill of the breeze confirmed it. More tears slipped down her cheeks. Instead of wiping them away, the prince took a cushion from the bench and laid it down as a pillow. When he made his way back over to her, she could not look at him. Only at the cushion sat atop her cloak — where she was to rest her head. More tears glided past her cheeks and down her neck. Was that truly where she was to be deflowered? On the cold, dusty ground of her balcony. No marriage. No ceremony before the Gods. No dowery. No grand feast. Nothing.

By the waist, Aemond moved her to stand at the bottom of the cloak. Preceded by his warm, liquor scented breath, came feather-light kisses that started at her cheek. They traced along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone, and up to her shoulder. Tickling her skin all the way. Her heart pounded like war drums in her chest. Overwhelmed with embarrassment for what was to come, she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. The soft tug from the shoulder of her nightgown being gently moved out of place sent off bells of alarm in her head, she instinctively wanted to squeal. But instead, she made a point to bite her mouth shut. More kisses dusted the top of her shoulder.

“Aemond, —“ She tried desperately to keep hold of her resolve.

Another kiss to the corner of her mouth cut her off, followed by the low hum of a familiar tune. Not that of the Pentoshi songs her handmaid sang, but one her father and Laena would sing to her and her young sisters, proudly proclaiming that the girls were three heads in their own right. It was a song from Old Valyria. When she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the bright melody of Lady Laena’s voice. Chirping out the words like the call of a morning bird.

Drakari pykiros

Tīkummo jemiros

Yn lantyz bartossa

Saelot vāedis

(Fire breather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing)

Hen ñuhā elēnī:

Perzyssy vestretis

Se gēlȳn irūdaks

Ānogrose

(From my voice, the fires have spoken, and the price paid, with blood magic)

But Lady Laena’s voice was not truly there. Maetilda knew it wasn’t. Her body laid with the Gods beneath the waves. Her dragon answered to a new rider, and he stood before the princess humming. He was the only one humming. Yet, it was like a ghost lingered around them. The hair on her arms stood on end. Chills electrified her spine. It did not help that the tomcat only continued to close in. Eye alert, claws sharp. The closer he got, the more his humming unsettled her. The voice of Lady Laena still rang on in her ears.

Perzyro udrȳssi

Ezīmptos laehossi

Hārossa letagon

Aōt vāedan

(With words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing)

Helping her down with an arm on her back and the other grasping her hands to steady her, Aemond laid Maetilda down on the cloak. His hair tickled her cheek as he hovered over her. The princess’s entire body trembled. Goosebumps erupted across her skin from the ground’s cold touch. More tears escaped out of her eyes. She could hear her heart pound in her ears. Pools of snot began to clog her nose, which only made it harder for her to catch her breath. All the while, the prince undid the knot at the top of her nightgown. She wanted to scream. Her knight would be there in only a few steps. The rest of the castle would undoubtedly hear her too. Her father included. They would find her underneath her betrothed, and everything she had ever dreamed for herself would be ruined. She could not scream.

Hae mērot gierūli

Se hāros bartossi

Prūmȳsa sōvīli

Gevī dāerī

(As one we gather, and with three heads, we shall fly as we were destined -- beautifully, freely)

The hum of the song repeated itself on a loop. She could not bare to watch any longer. Each of his boots had haphazardly plopped to their own corner. Maetilda clamped her eyes shut as she felt her betrothed on his knees, positioning one of her legs on either side of him. His trousers came down easy. She could hear him slide them down his thighs. Most of his clothing had already been undone. The cold air bit at her legs, her hips, her torso as her skin became exposed to the night. He had lifted up the bottom of her gown, and she soon felt the fabric bunch at her waist.

Her mouth went dry and her eyes flew open. Anxiously, her hands grabbed at the bunched fabric and tried to cover herself back up. At least down to her thighs. At least enough to keep some dignity in tact. But the tomcat only pushed her hands away, gripping them both in one of his own paws. Aemond held them above her head, using his spare hand to pull at the neck of her gown. Her vision seemed to cloud as her head felt like it was filling with smoke. As if a fire had started burning somewhere inside her. Her organs only blackened the fumes.

It felt warm and cold all at once, causing her to flinch away from the feeling. The fleshy sensation that poked at the place that was never supposed to be touched. The place worth her body weight in gold. Her heart fluttered through the haze clouding her mind. Her gut screamed. A shiver ran through every bone in her body. Aemond used one of his knees to pin her hip down, to keep it from flinching away from his touch again. His free hand came up to his face. Eyes lidded, he stared straight into Maetilda’s soul as he stuck two fingers in his mouth. Coating them in a layer of spit. Without hesitation, his two fingers cut straight down her torso and toward the apex of her thighs. The princess’s gasp covered up the yelp that was lodged in her throat. His hand found refuge between her pillowy thighs. Wet fingers played with her flower, lightly rubbing it in slow circles.

On instinct, her knees tried to snap together only to be obstructed by the prince’s body. He held her down and kept her knees apart with ease. She tried to squirm, but she could hardly move. Her mind screamed and screamed and screamed. The humming stopped and Lady Laena’s voice was gone. Instead, her father’s voice echoed between her ears. Shouting angrily about how much she disgraced and disgusted him. What if anyone were to find out? What if someone were to hear? Or to walk in? She wouldn’t live to see the sunrise, wouldn’t live to see another day. She would be better off dead. A princess soiled before her wedding day. A lady without morals. A no good harlot. Yet she couldn’t stop Aemond. As filthy as she felt, she didn’t want him to stop. As long as his fingers continued their circles. Sliding his two fingers south, he used his thumb to continue the tantalizingly gentle pattern. The wet pair slid ever so slowly until they reached the lid of the princess’s honeypot. Maetilda’s breath shook. A lilted note spilled out with it. Bottom lip trapped between his teeth, Aemond’s eye seemed to glaze over at the very sound. Velvety lilac deepened to satiny plum. It couldn’t mean anything good.

A yelp escaped her mouth as one of Aemond’s fingers inched inside of her. Splitting her body in two. The prince’s lips soon met her own, muffling the sound of the princess’s quiet whines. His tongue poked its way into her mouth, dominating all of her senses. He consumed her. As if she truly were charred sheep. He only stopped in order to pull his fingers out of her carcass and lick them clean. The feeling was intoxicating, but the view of it even more so.

A/N: this little diddy has probably been over-revised. i’m sorry it took so long!! hopefully it was well worth the wait! happy season 2 premiere day!!!

it’s my first go at anything kinda sexy! i was excited to try it! kinda nervy to post it (hence the hold up) but i hope it does something for you! the freak continues in the next guy though, hope ur cool with that HAH (the next one will be coming much faster)

TAGLIST: @marvelescvpe

xoxo messy

#dead men and the divine #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #house of the dragon fanfic

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namisweatheria · 8 months ago

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THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA. The No Emotion character/Learning To Feel trope is one of my absolute favorites and it would work so well here.

I love Zoro getting him to feel something by bickering with him, and the Thriller Bark moment being when it all finally breaks through. However! I think there's room for everyone else here too! And I really like the idea of it taking longer than it being just one moment, you know?

What if Usopp is always trying to make him laugh? Or impress him with an invention or tall tale, and sometimes he almost succeeds? I think he'd probably take a guy who never laughs as a challenge. And when that guy is always protecting him because they're friends and feeding him good food, I think Usopp would be very very invested in bringing out Sanji's emotions. He might see it as some kind of Injustice that needs righting, or a sick person who needs cheering up, or a combination of both. I bet he'd make some declarative promise that he'd help him find his emotions, leave it to the great Captain Usopp!!!! And just generally be checking in with him and making jokes to him all the time.

What if Chopper is kind of scared of him at first, but once he understands him and feels closer he's always trying to see if he can help him get his emotions through medical means? Being so careful and gentle and encouraging and adorable and earnest and absolutely nothing like the medical control Sanji experienced as a kid. Maybe that makes him almost feel a kind of softness for Chopper. An urge to pat his head or say something nice to him, just to get him to do that DON'T THINK YOU CAN BUTTER ME UP YOU BASTARD! silly song and dance.

Nami never has sympathy for men, unless they are her friend who is actively going through something. I think there is something very vulnerable and non-threatening about this Sanji who doesn't seem to have much will of his own, who seems kind of lost, who accepts any order on the basis that "we're friends". I think that actually would really Get to her. I think she'd oscillate between trying to argue him into having opinions and, in a sad, sweet, and awkward manner, try to be nice to him directly through words and small gifts.

Taking him with her shopping, ostensibly as a pack mule, but she's always asking him if there's anything he likes, offering to buy something for him if he actually spends time looking at it. (Which is so extremely rare that it's not a threat to her wallet, and anyways as we saw with Lola she's happy to give money away if it's to someone she really cares about.) I think the first time he actually shows real interest in something and lets her get it it's a really big win for both of them. She's really excited about it and YELLS to everyone to announce it as soon as they get back to the ship, and whatever it is he absolutely openly TREASURES it.

I think Robin is VERY interested in What He Is, Exactly. I imagine Sora probably told him to keep it all a secret, and the strengthening of their friendship in particular is marked by mutual opening up. Robin is also very muted emotionally, she's had to cope with doing terrible acts to survive, and being alone and hunted and constantly betrayed since she was a child. Oh my god she's just like Reiju!! Oh YES! Robin would 100% for sure remind Sanji of Reiju. Oh my god, yeah. I think being reminded of Reiju would definitely be a thing that brings them closer together.

I think Sanji wouldn't Say that he's from the North Blue, but he'd not so subtly imply it by showing interest in anything North Blue-related that she's reading or sharing. She'd definitely want to know anything about it that she hasn't already learned, and I think he'd have an urge to talk about it around this very Reiju-like person. They would have a very sweet friendship despite both being so reserved.

I think Luffy probably wouldn't be putting forward concentrated effort to get a specific reaction out of Sanji, but he'd be very excited whenever Sanji does react. He'd probably point out cool and interesting things to him all the time if he ever gets a reaction once, just to try to get it again. And I think Luffy, without being aware of it, would inspire the same feelings he does to everybody. That pride that he's Their Captain. That awe of what he can do, and how he thinks, that worry that he won't make it this time. That faith that he will. That excitement for whatever adventure he's about to take us on next.

Just tiny inklings of emotion that get stronger over time. That happen especially in those big moments where everyone is together feeling the same thing. Especially in small moments in between, that the others intentionally carve out, just for him.

Maybe in another world the poison Sanji’s mum took didn’t work on Sanji, or at least not in the same way.

A child with black hair and dull eyes, and like his brothers he’s made to be a solider who follows orders.

The difference is that he follows his mum’s instead of Judge’s.

She’s distraught that the poison wasn’t enough, but she raises Sanji as best she can to be someone free, even if he can’t really be.

He learns to cook because she asks him to (she wonders if she’s fooling herself when she sees just a glimmer of excitement in his dull eyes).

He guards her like a dog as she grows sick, this six year old who can’t even see over the counters. But he’s strong and can fight and all he knows is that what his mum says is what he does.

And when she’s dying, she tells him to run. Says whatever happens, get away from Judge.

And when she dies, that’s what he does. Because he’s an emotionless machine, but he’s following her orders. She told him to be free from Germa, and to seek friends. He doesn’t understand the second part (“friends are a weakness” Judge had said) so he ignores it, but he goes.

He finds the Orbit at age seven and he already has cooking skills (and he’s super powered— he’s good at what he does). They’re creeped out by him, most of the cooks just try to ignore him or slink around him, this terrifying little kid who can dice hundreds of onions in an hour.

He doesn’t interact with them either— his mum said to be free, and he assumes this is “free”. He assumes these aren’t “friends”, at least they’re not like in the books she read him. No one has fought for him or offered to share their things with him, so these must not be them.

And then, of course, the Orbit is hit by pirates, and then hits a storm. Sanji ends up stranded with Zeff on that cliff. Why’d Zeff save him? Maybe it was the way he stood emotionless in front of him with those dead eyes. Said he had to get back to cooking like nothing mattered.

Maybe it was the way everyone else looked at him like they were scared of him, this little ten year old unaware of his effect.

Maybe it was the almost imperceptible way he flinched when another cook came near him, like he was waiting for the next attack.

It doesn’t matter now.

What matters is that Sanji’s on the island with Zeff and they’re starving, but Zeff gives him food. Zeff loses his leg for Sanji. These things are adding up, Sanji thinks this might be what his mum wanted him to find.

He’s not sure.

Uncertainty doesn’t fit well with him.

But his mum said to find a friend and Zeff fits what he knows, so he devotes himself like a soldier. When they get off the island, Zeff can’t get rid of him no matter what he tries (he doesn’t try too hard).

They get a restaurant.

Sanji works like a machine in the kitchens.

Zeff puts him on food prep for years and Sanji does it without complaint. No one is as good as him at finely dicing, at weighing and measuring to the letter. He even does the dishes when they’re behind, and only breaks one before he figures out not to grip with all his strength.

Zeff makes him a full fledged chef at fifteen.

He always feels a little… conflicted about making Sanji work. The boy doesn’t have friends and doesn’t seem to desire them. He doesn’t have emotions. It feels wrong to make him work when he doesn't have the fight to object.

But Sanji’s his responsibility for some reason, and he’s accepted that.

And once, just once, when Sanji is seventeen, Judge comes down in the middle of the night to find a full five course meal prepared. It’s nothing the Baratie makes. It smells of unfamiliar lands.

He doesn’t mention it to Sanji, and there’s no trace of it the next day.

He wonders, though.

When Sanji is nineteen, Luffy arrives with a cannonball through the wall.

Zeff’s not too happy about that, but Sanji’s on red alert. He goes after Luffy with a vengeance.

Because that’s ZEFF, and if Sanji knows one thing it’s that he has to PROTECT ZEFF.

Luffy’s enamoured with him immediately. He wants Sanji. He wants this man who cooks and fights with his feet (Zeff taught him that, Sanji added it to the rules— no hands, be free, find friends).

Sanji’s dull eyes barely blink as he tells Luffy no, that he’s here for Zeff.

But then Luffy says the magic words.

He introduces Sanji (who stopped fighting at Zeff’s directive) to his crew and says, “this is my new friend Sanji! He’s going to be our cook!”

It’s confusing in a way few things are. Sanji lives in black and white— but Luffy says they’re *friends*. His mum told him to find friends. But he can’t leave Zeff, who is also a friend.

Sanji stumbles a little.

And then the green haired swordsman mocks him for it. The smallest flame of anger lights in his belly, a single momentary spark.

But that doesn’t matter because right now in this moment Sanji is processing having TWO friends.

That processing comes to a halt when Zeff yells at him to leave.

It’s simple again.

He follows orders.

He joins the Straw Hats.

He cooks.

He fights.

Luffy talks all the time about being free, and Sanji doesn’t get it but he figures Luffy will tell him when they manage to become “the most free”, something he has no metric of.

Also, Zoro is there.

Zoro is a complication. Sanji’s not sure if he’s friends with everyone or just with Luffy. He THINKS it’s everyone. He doesn’t like living in greys.

And Zoro likes to fight.

He tries to rile Sanji up, every time. Makes comments about his food or eyebrows.

Sometimes it… well it doesn’t *work* but it makes that little spark hit deep inside of him again, and for a split second the world is brighter. And then it’s gone.

Then Zoro pulls out his swords, which means they’re sparring, and Sanji is good at sparring.

They add more crew members. They go from island to island. Sanji protects his friends because that’s what he’s supposed to do, and he cooks, because he’s supposed to.

And then some time around Water 7 he starts to dream.

He’s never dreamed before.

He dreams of his mum and her warm smile. He dreams of his sister and her complicated expressions that he could never understand.

He dreams of Zoro and the grin that stretches over his face and the way his earrings dance.

He doesn’t get it. There’s no point to dreams.

What does it, what finally lights the spark inside of him, is Thriller Bark. It’s “nothing happened”. Zoro pushes him out of the way, stops him from doing the one thing he’s MADE to do, and then Sanji wakes up and realises what’s happened.

And a whirlwind alights inside of him.

The world has colors and depth it didn’t before, as he’s flooded with ANGER, that Zoro would do that, WORRY, that Zoro won’t make it, PAIN and HEARTBREAK for his mum, and a new sort of loyalty, deep and unending, for his crew.

He watches Zoro sleep as he processes.

And when Zoro finally wakes, when that worry abates a little, he YELLS at him. SCREAMS that he was a SELFISH ASSHOLE and HOW DARE HE and he’s IMPORTANT.

And through it all, Zoro stares at him, wide eyed and probably high on pain meds.

And then, when Sanji finally exhausts himself, Zoro grins. That same grin from Sanji’s dreams, and he says, “I knew you’d make it.”

Which is DUMB and makes Sanji EVEN MORE MAD because what does that fucking MEAN and he YELLS SOME MORE and by that time all the Straw Hats have gathered in shock outside the infirmary door.

“Welcome to the crew, Curls,” Zoro says and Sanji wants to KICK HIM but he’s on death’s door already and Sanji knows how strong he is.

So instead he collapses onto him and weeps, his emotions a confusing mess inside of him.

And eventually the door creaks open and Chopper slips in because he HAS to check Zoro’s vitals and then Luffy BOUNDS in and wraps his arms around Sanji and says “SANJI, MAKE ME MEAT” and Sanji SNAPS that he’s BUSY and Luffy LAUGHS and says “Okay but AFTER YOU’RE BUSY, MEAT.”

And later that night, after he’s made a MISTAKE in the kitchen because he got EMOTIONAL chopping vegetables, he sits in the infirmary again, forcing Zoro to drink broth. And he says, “I don’t know what happened. It’s like there’s too much of me inside me now.”

And Zoro says yeah. “That’s what living feels like,” he says.

“I don’t like it,” says Sanji.

“You ever disliked something before?”

“No.”

“Then congratulations.”

Then Zoro reaches out and grabs his hand. His grip is weak still, shaking.

He says, “this is the point. You have to find things to live for, now.”

And Sanji thinks. “I’m supposed to live for friends,” he says. “And freedom.”

“The you’re on the right ship,” Zoro says. “What else?”

And Sanji remembers a book his mum used to read. A long time ago.

“Have you heard of the All Blue?”

#fic #I HAD SO MUCH FUN READING THIS POST AND THEN THINKING ABOUT IT AND TYPING THIS RESPONSE AND I DEARLY HOPE YOU DONT MIND OP #east blue crew #sanji #whole cake island arc #op aus

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supercool-here · 7 months ago

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We were lonely

This is my first go at writing something. A short story maybe. I don't care if it's boring or redundant or has typos, I just really wanted to write this and post it to my blog. It is a conversation I wish I had with a friend I once had.

The day was hot, and sitting at an auditorium with another twelve hundred sweaty teens was not making it any cooler.

We had gotten dragged out of our classrooms during the last period and were now listening to the principal, giving the last instructions for next friday´s election. Candidates running for student representatives were given the responsibility of forming their parties and financing their campaigns, which mostly consisted on visiting each class with hand-made posters and balloons, and handing out candy. Those two weeks were really exciting in middle school, even as a fourteen year old I would eagerly expect election day; we got to miss our last period to go down to the auditorium, listen to the candidates´ last proposals, vote for our favorite, wait for the teachers to count the votes and, finally, announce the winner.

It was an event that had to offer all you could ever want from middle school; cheering, free candy, high spirits, skipping periods, leaving school early, and having a reason to side with someone and boo the opponents.

We were being dismissed back to our classrooms to grab our things and leave when I caught sight of two kids holding hands; they were sitting several classes away from mine, but close enough to know they were ninth graders just like me. They were also close enough to recognize, moments later, who they were. In that instant my heart dropped to my stomach, betrayed and disillusioned.

April had been one of my very few friends since fourth grade, the only one I actually trusted, and also the one I liked the most. She was funny, and honest, and I had given her a customized Maroon 5 shirt for one of her birthdays. I thought we were close friends, because ours was the closest thing I had known to friendship.

It turned out our friendship wasn´t strong enough to last through ninth grade, and we weren´t close enough for her to tell me about her very first boyfriend. For some reason I will never discover, April even felt the need to deny she had a crush on Declan when I asked her about it days before.

In retrospect, it all sounds very silly, but at fourteen it didn´t occur to me that it was a wonderful thing we were both growing up into real people, who can stop being friends and can continue living their lives separately, and this wouldn´t represent the end of times. No. All I could think about was this bugging little feeling of abandonment and, even deeper still, envy, that turned everything around me too bright and too cold. I felt, as I had often done, lonely.

April and I are fine now, of course. We say hi when we pass each other on the street. She dresses with style and smiles with charm, and I am truly happy for her and for all the things going on in her life that I don't know about, though it took a while and a few miles of distance to reach that resolution.

At fourteen, episodes of loneliness like this one would unravel in my head a string of dark and awful thoughts about myself, certainly much more slowly and innocently than it does nowadays. As I was leaving the auditorium, I got thinking about the possible reasons as to why April didn´t tell me about Declan.

First was the very logical assumption that she didn't want to be my friend anymore. The search for explanations started with things that had nothing to do with me, like how she wasn't my neighbor anymore and therefore we hadn't been able to chat every morning on our way to school anymore, and ended up at self-hatred avenue, having me convinced she must find me a bore for never wanting to go out anywhere or do anything fun.

I hadn´t realized all my classmates had gathered their things and left the classroom, but the teacher did.

He was too young to call him mister. Nat was a twenty-something year old man, the newest and youngest teacher, who had joined the school recently on august, and he was our maths teacher.

-Are you ok?

I looked up from my desk, where I was finishing up packing my things. He was standing two desks away, looking at me through his thick-framed glasses, with only the faintest speck of concern in his eyes.

-Yes. Yes I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry.

I was embarrassed as I said this, trying to pack my things faster.

-You look bothered. You can tell me what´s going on.

He looked honestly concerned now. And I wanted to stop feeling lonely.

-Well I just learned this friend of mine has a boyfriend and lied about it to me a few days ago. And it hurts my pride really. I don't like realizing people don't want me as their friend. And I am also jealous, not because I like her boyfriend but because I want to have a life, and I don´t want to be left behind.

It was a silly problem, and I was a small teenager, but he listened as if it actually mattered. He looked at me with a clear seriousness, not with the usual look of dismiss adults are so used to give teens when talking about their end-of-the-world problems, pitying them for being so young and inexperienced and narrow-minded. This made me trust him.

He had started giving me advice, when a woman knocked on the door demanding his attention. He made a gesture indicating her to wait, and continued on with his advice. I don´t remember what he said that afternoon, but from that day on I let myself go to him for comfort and tutoring very often.

-So you´re the spoiled little sister aren´t you?- He said one afternoon. I had gone for tutoring, we got chatting, and he had asked if I had any siblings.

-No, it´s not like that.-I said laughing, It was a lie.- Do you have any siblings?

He was the eldest of three kids, his brother three years younger than him and his sister two years younger than me.

-Do you like being the oldest?

-It´s not as good as being the youngest.

-How would you know? You wish you were spoiled?

-How would you know the youngest are always the spoiled ones?

-You just assumed it earlier. -He almost caught me lying - So why do you think being the youngest is better?

-I don´t actually think that. I want to get you to tell me what it´s like.

I wanted to be honest then

-You have nothing to envy from your sister.

-So you don´t like being the youngest?

-Not always. You see, I´ve always prided myself on being capable and independent, and have always thought that living with sisters much older than me made me mature. But I'm starting to wonder if it's an illusion. - Embarrassment crept to my face, but I did not cower. I turned to look at him.

-I think I will be ruined, sometime in the future, if I don´t force myself to leave the bubble I live in. But I don´t know how to do it.- I turned back to my notebook, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though this was a topic I was often mortified about- I read on the internet that teenagers should take healthy risks, to learn their limits and such, but you see, I´ve done that before, I've tried to step out of my comfort zone.

-And what happended?- he looked amused. I knew I was being intense, but I was also honest.

-Catastrophe is what happened. I've tried going to parties. I don´t like being treated differently by my mom when she helps me get ready, it makes me cringe at my own growth, like I'm being watched when I'd rather be left alone with my awkward transformation. And my dad somehow always manages to be mad about something, and I know he's just stressed and scared but so am I, every time.

-I do remember, growing up can be very challenging- he said, slightly nostalgic, evidently relieved.

-But that's not the worst of it all.- I hesitated for a moment, wondering if the next piece of information was too much. I decided I had to tell the rest of it, now that I had started.- In seventh grade I went to my first party ever, and sadly not the last one. I had a moment of decisiveness, I felt bold and ready for the world, I thought I had to do the things I thought myself too awkward to try.- while I kept on solving my equations, I smiled at my own naivety, as if I were decades and not a mere two years away from it- I decided to go to the homecoming, so I had my mom do my hair and makeup, I put on the most fun outfit I had, and I met up with the few friends I had managed to make.

-What happened? Didn´t you have fun? Did someone bully you? Did a boy break you heart?- he was curious when asking these questions. I sometimes wondered if Nat had been an adult his entire life and through our conversations he was trying to figure out what adolescence was like.

-None of that. I don´t know. I hate those parties. No matter what I do, or say, or wear, or who I'm with, I always feel out of place. So out of place. I feel that I shouldn't be there. That I'm uninvited. That everyone has figured out how to exist in those places and move with the crowd and have fun and talk and dance, and I still don't get it. And I feel lonely. And I decide to leave.

He then looked sad, and I hurriedly tried to find something to say to stop him from pitying me.

-But there's always hope afterwards. I still hope one day, when I'm older, I will find my place. Somewhere I'm not a hindrance. Somewhere I don't feel lonely.

-You should start looking for it. The older you get, the harder it is to hope for things like that.- he looked awfully nostalgic as he said this.

-You are right. I do worry, sometimes, that if I don't start looking for my place already, one day it'll be too late to start. But I don´t know how to start.- I said this with very intense yearning. He felt that.

-You'll be alright. You'll get there.

-Have you gotten there?

-I think so.-he took a pause to reflect seriously on this.-I don´t actively look for my place in this world anymore, but maybe I'll join you in the search for it.- he was trying to elevate out spirits, and it worked.

-Where should we start? I have tried parties, and I'm not fun enough to belong there. Hardly make any friends. But I can deal with smaller crowds. What about you?

He did find his place. He has a girlfriend and goes to church with her every sunday. I wouldn´t be surprised if I learned one day that they got married. He's still a teacher at that same school. He found his place. He'll be alright.

-About the bubble situation-he said- promise you won't wait any longer to pop it. Do it yourself before someone else does it for you. If that happened, you'd get startled. Do it yourself.

-Yes, but how?

-You already know how. Do the things you want to do. Speak your mind. Make mistakes. You'll likely be terrible at it at first. We all are. But that's how you get better. And your parents won't always like it, but it's not their life. And they won't stop loving you. They can't

-Promise that.-I started to pack my things into my backpack.

-I promise-he looked relaxed, and in that moment I felt reassured.

-Thank you. I think I will go get blackout drunk now.-I got up from my seat.

-Don't do that.-he laughed.

-No, I won´t-I laughed as well. I started to make my way to the door- Thank you, for your kindness. But don´t be too kind thought, you'll end up attracting the wrong kind of nerdy loners.

He laughed, but seemed as if he actually considered it for a second.

-I'm serious. They will flock to you every recess and even after school for the rest of your life, just like I do.- I opened the door.

He actually laughed this time.

-I will be even kinder then.

I smiled and waved goodbye.

I realize now, maybe he was lonely too. I'm glad he isn't anymore.

#personal #short story #writing

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tricksters-captain · 4 years ago

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Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 1

AN: My Marvel obsession has been lying dormant since Endgame finished but Wandavision and Falcon and Winter Soldier have brought it back to life.... This is going to be a series based off the show. Kind of like my ‘Oh Dear’ fic, it’s the series with an added characters and story lines.

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.

In this chapter: You reunite with Sam and Bucky (Based on S1 EP2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,883

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 2, strong language, violence.

You and Bucky had always been close.

You were close with Steve before Bucky joined the avengers and you fought on Steve’s side during the small civil war between the avengers.

Steve was your best friend and Sam always knew how to make you smile but there was something about Bucky that was different to the rest of the avengers.

You had spent some time in Wakanda with Bucky at Steve’s request and you two had always fought side by side and it crushed Steve when you both taken during the blip and he wasn't.

When you returned, you were thrust back into battle almost immediately. The final fight against Thanos which resulted in you losing Tony and then Steve.

Nothing seemed to matter except the fact you had been gone for 5 whole years. You had missed 5 whole years with your friends and family. They had changed whilst you were gone and you came back the same as you left.

When Steve returned the infinity stones, he hadn’t given you warning that he wasn’t coming back the same age he was going in but he had warned Bucky. They had spoken about it before apparently and after everything, you felt kind of betrayed.

You knew you’d never understand Steve’s choice but it was his choice. You were just upset Bucky didn’t warn you.

You returned to your home town after that day.

You returned to find some people had changed and some hadn’t but you knew you wanted to be around and spend time with them.

After all the years fighting for the avengers and only calling every once in a blue moon. It seemed to finally dawn on you that you should spend time with them whilst you still could.

However, that only lasted around 6 months before you found yourself answering a phone call from Sam.

You were at a birthday party for one of your old school friend’s daughters when you felt your phone go off.

You put down one of the little girls who had be asking you a hundred questions about being apart of the avengers and excused yourself from the party.

“Tell me why I got an awful feeling when I saw your caller ID come up on my phone.” You answered, folding your free hand under your arm as you leant against the wall.

“It’s cause your subconscious is reminding you about that one time you said no when I asked you out on a date and you regret that now.” Sam’s voice instantly made you crack a smile.

“Or maybe it’s because every time I get a call from you it’s to do with the world ending or something worse.” You shot back.

“It’s good to hear your voice too.” Sam chuckled at your comment before he had responded.

“So what’s going on? I haven’t heard much from you in months.” You asked.

“That’s around the time you up and left us for the old way of living.” Sam reminded you that you were the one that decided to go cold agent and return home.

“There isn’t anything wrong with a little quiet.” You told him as you looked back through the window to the children that were the opposite of quiet.

“No there isn't.” Sam agreed, “However, I got a situation here at the moment that I could really use your help with.”

“I guess it’s a bit bigger than the usual military op or you wouldn’t be calling?” You frowned. You were in the loop enough to know Sam had been apart of the airforce these past 6 months and had been taking part in frequent missions but nothing that concerned you.

“I’m sending you over the details now. I’d appreciate it if you could come.” Sam sent you through a file and you pulled your phone away from your ear to open it.

“You don’t need to convince me, Sam. I’ll be there since I know you wouldn’t ask unless it was serious.” You answered honestly.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you soon then.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone.

“Depends how quick I can get a bag together and your jet can get me to you.” You told him as you picked up your jacket from the coat rack.

“Well it’s no Red Wing but it’s pretty fast.” Sam stated. “Oh and (Y/n)... You haven’t seen the news in the past hour or so, have you?”

“No? Why?” You frowned at the hesitation in Sam’s voice.

“Just... take a look.” Sam told you before you ended the call.

You opened up the news on your phone and what you saw made your mouth go dry and your stomach drop.

‘JOHN WALKER; NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA’

You felt an anger rise up in you as you watched the wannabe waltz onto screen with Steve’s shield in his paws.

When Sam gave up the shield, you didn’t know how to feel at first but now... now you weren’t surprised Sam didn’t elaborate on what he wanted you to see.

You said your apologies and your goodbyes pretty swiftly and you had already stashed an emergency bag ready to go under your bed so you were soon on your way.

It didn’t take terribly long to get to the air base where Sam was waiting for you.

“Who the hell is this guy and why is he calling himself the new Captain America?”

“Nice to see you too.” Sam wasn’t surprised at the attitude once you stepped off the plane.

“Sam, first you call me up to help deal with this wannabe terrorist group and now I just find out that Steve’s shield, which you gave up, is being held by some wannabe superhero.” You dumped your bag on the floor as you closed the gap between you and Sam.

“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either and I knew nothin about it but we have bigger fish to fry right now so can we cut the dramatic and get to actually saying hello?” Sam stared down at you with his hands on his hips.

You sighed and gave in.

You wrapped your arms around the man and hugged him warmly.

“I’m sorry. I just––”

“–I know.” Sam didn’t need your apology. He understood how you were feeling. You both loved Steve so much.

“Miss (Y/N)(Y/L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” A voice brought your attention away from Sam to a man approaching you both.

“(Y/n), Torres. Torres, (Y/n).” Sam introduced you to the uniformed man and you shook his hand politely.

“Nice to meet you.” You weren’t sure if you had gotten used to the way most civilians looked at you after you became apart of the avengers. When you joined you didn’t realise becoming famous would be apart of the gig.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss (Y/L/N) has to come with me to get logged into the clearance system and sort out a couple things.” Torres pointed over his shoulder as he explained.

“And by that he means sign an autograph for his kid sister.” Sam teased the man.

“What?” Torres’ cheeks tinged pink. “No!”

“It’s alright. Lead the way.” You picked up your bag and sent a quick smile to Sam before turning back to Torres. “Oh and you can call me (Y/n) by the way.”

It didn’t take too long for Torres to fill you in on Sam’s plan for the mission as he logged in a few details so you could have clearance around the airbase.

You did end up signing an autograph after a little tiptoeing around the question and then by the time you walked back out into the open you spotted someone you hadn’t expected to see.

It was Bucky.

“Looking good for a senior citizen.” You spoke up as you approached Sam and Bucky.

Bucky had his back to you but the sound of your voice soon paused his conversation with Sam and he spun around.

“Hey Buck.” You smiled but you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. “Long time no see.”

“(Y/n).” Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you.

You chuckled at his tight embrace but hugged him back just as tight all the same.

“You, uh, you look good.” Bucky cleared his throat as he pulled away from you.

“If you’ll excuse us, Casanova, we got places to be.” Sam tried to pull you away from Bucky but Bucky only followed.

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky announced.

“No, you’re not!” Sam argued.

You hadn’t missed the men’s bickering...

In spite of Sam’s protest, Bucky ended up on the flight anyway.

“So how’s it been away from the Avengers?” Bucky asked you as you both prepared for the mission.

Sam was up with Torres in the cockpit so you and Bucky were alone for the first time since you saw each other.

“It’s been okay. Spending time at home. Doing non-hero regular folk stuff.” You chuckled weakly as you pulled off your sweater. Bucky’s eyes fell to your chest as you had only wore a vest underneath. You felt your cheeks burn as you pretended not to notice.

“Uh, same.” Bucky cleared his throat before he spoke.. “Been strange without you around.”

“Buck, you know I needed time away from everything. From Sam, from you... After Steve, I...” You let your words drop away.

There was a short silence before Bucky decided to change the subject.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist. Court mandated. She’s got me doing this whole redemption thing. Contacting people in my past. Making things right.”

“And how’s that going for you?” You couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the idea of Bucky forcing himself to face his past at the request of a therapist.

“Well I have three rules I’m meant to stick to and let’s say I’m not exactly following them closely.” Bucky admitted as he folded his hoodie.

“Does your therapist know that?” You cocked an eyebrow at the man with a light amused expression.

“What do you think.” Bucky smirked back at you.

“Be careful. I might tell on you.” You sighed playfully.

“You’re actually on the list.” Bucky suddenly confessed. “I wanted to make things right after...” Bucky paused for a moment. “...After Steve. I should have warned you. Should have told you the truth.”

“Bucky.” You stopped him. “It’s okay. Steve made a choice and he chose to talk to you about it. You’re his best friend and the only other person on the team who could’ve really understood why he did what he did. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’m still sorry.” Bucky looked you in the eyes as he spoke, “You were with him for so long when I wasn’t around. You should’ve got a real warning.”

“Thanks Buck.” You pressed your lips into a brief sad smile before looking down at your boots.

“I’ve really missed you, (Y/n).” Bucky uttered.

“I really missed you too.” You stopped tying your lace to look up at the man.

His short hair had really revealed his face and you couldn’t help but notice every part of it. The lines by his eyes when he smiled, the curve of his lips, the shadow that was just coming on.

You straightened up and stepped towards the man.

“I like the new haircut by the way.” You reached up and let your fingers brush the top of his forehead. “Makes you look almost like a civilian.”

Bucky couldn’t help but feel his body tense under your touch.

“You look tired though.” You let your hand drop down to his cheek. “Not been sleeping well?”

Bucky forced himself to move away from your touch.

“Bad dreams.” Bucky murmured.

“I figured therapy might have been helping you with those.” You frowned, “I remember sharing wake up duty with Steve like it was yesterday.”

“Every time it was your turn you’d make hot coco.” Bucky reminded you. It brought back images of you and Bucky sat in a small kitchen drinking hot chocolate that you had made despite Bucky’s insisting that he didn’t want any.

“Seems like a lifetime ago.” You smiled but the memories only made you feel dismal. It seemed those were simpler times. Steve was still around, at least.

Bucky handed you your jacket in the silence and you took it gratefully.

“I’m not interrupting something, am I?” Sam said rather loudly as he climbed down the ladder.

“No, we were just getting ready which is what you should be doing.” You picked up Sam’s bag and tossed it to him which he caught effortlessly. “I’m going to check a few things with Torres. Try not to kill each other whilst I’m gone.”

Bucky watched you climb the ladder up to the cockpit and Sam watched Bucky.

“I’ll never understand why you won’t just shoot your shot with the girl.” Sam shook his head as he opened his duffle.

“Shoot my what?” Bucky glared over at the man with confusion clear in his eyes.

“Your shot, man. (Y/n) has clearly been in love with you since Steve dragged your ass onto the team. What she sees in you compared to this, I’ll never understand but she clearly sees something.” Sam had gestured to himself when he spoke but Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“Maybe instead of talking about (Y/n), you should actually tell me what the plan is?” Bucky suggested as he zipped up his jacket securely.

“How about you stop avoiding your feelings?” Sam retorted which made Bucky shut up and sit down.

“I’m not avoiding my feelings.” Bucky grumbled as he glared at the man.

“Yeah right.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head as he started to change.

You didn’t return to the boys until you were approaching the drop off.

“(Y/n), you’ll be out first.” Torres explained as you put in your ear piece, trying your hardest to ignore Bucky and Sam starring daggers at each other behind you.

“Great. See you on the ground, fellas.” You jumped from the aircraft just as you heard Bucky ask what the plan was in your earpiece.

You had to jump earlier then the men since you were approaching the building from another angle but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear them bicker still on the aircraft.

When you reached the warehouse, you remained hidden in the trees. You watched several people start to load two trucks with large boxes.

“You’re doing the staring thing again. They’re in there.” You heard Sam’s voice in your earpiece. He must have been talking to Bucky inside the warehouse.

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons, though.” Sam responded before you could.

“Well, I think you could be right.” Bucky agreed with a passive aggressive tone. “But there’s only one way to find out. I see a clear path. I say we take it.”

“We’re not assassins.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“I’ll see you inside or not.” Bucky must've walked away from what you could hear.

“Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you! Come back.” You could practically see Sam’s smile in your head.

“If you guys are done, I have a visual on the targets. They’re loading up two red trucks.”

“We’re moving up now.” Bucky replied to you.

“Look at you. All stealthy.” Sam was teasing him. “A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf.” Bucky corrected him and Sam’s reaction almost made you laugh out loud.

You tried to move closer to the trucks to see exactly what was going inside but it was risky with the group constantly checking around them.

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore, way ahead of you. It’s not great, but very doable.” Bucky’s voice came up again. “Hello. How are you?” Bucky sounded irritated. Sam must've snuck up on him.

“Good. What did I miss? Nothing.” Sam whispered back.

“All right, let’s go.” Bucky commanded but Sam stopped him.

“No, wait.”

“I got a vibranium arm. I can take them.” Bucky held up his arm as he fought against Sam’s halt.

“And I can fly. Who gives a shit?” Sam muttered. “Wait. I want to see where they’re going.”

“Guys I may not be in the same location as you but I can hear everything you’re saying so quick the arguing” You whispered lowly as you kept your eyes trained on the trucks.

You tried to zone out the boys bickering as you crept forward. A crashing noise from inside the warehouse made you jump back and hide as the flash smasher members all stopped and looked.

“Be careful.” You hissed at the both of them.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Bucky tried to defend himself but frankly you didn't care. The trucks were staring to close up and their engines switched on.

You watched the people pile into the trucks and you dived over, taking hold of the backdoors and clinging on.

“They have a hostage.” Sam told you as the trucks drove off with you attached.

“Then get moving.” You commanded. You pulled open the door you were hanging to and opened it.

“No sight of a hostage in here.” You informed Sam as you looked around. “Just boxes of vaccines.”

“I found her.” Bucky must've gotten inside the other truck. “Hi. You okay?” Bucky’s voice was then followed by a crashing sound.

However, you had your own problems...

You heard a loud bang behind you and you turned to see two men at the end of the truck. They both had masks on.

“Cute masks.” You taunted them before they charged at you.

You threw three knives at them, two managed to hit one of the men in the thigh and chest but the second man had knocked the third one away.

You went to attack the uninjured one first as he drew closer, you punched him but he was strong. He didn’t even flinch.

You felt a small panic in your chest as you started to fight. He was taking moves that would usually floor someone like he was being attacked by a pillow.

You managed to get him to the ground by wrapping your thighs around his neck and flipping him over you before you threw another knife at the injured soldier. He seemed to retreat, climbing out of the truck and onto the roof.

“Could use some back up, Sam!” You called out as you followed.

You climbed up onto the roof and the first soldier chased after you. The injured one grabbed hold of Bucky along with a third guy and so you were left with the big one.

You heard Redwing shooting at the roof before you saw it but a redheaded female smashed it in half like it was but a plastic toy.

With that, Sam finally swooped in and started throwing punches.

He was thrown to the other roof as you continued to fight your own battle. You were getting tired and his punches seemed to only be getting stronger and more painful each time.

You pulled out another knife but he grabbed your wrist and squeezed. You couldn’t help but cry out at the pressure, you dropped it before he could break your wrist.

Then suddenly a helicopter appeared from what seemed like nowhere. Cap’s shield bounced off one of Sam’s attackers as two new bodies joined the fight.

The distraction allowed you to kick your attacker off the truck and start to help Bucky.

“Sam, John Walker; Captain America.”

“Lemar Hoskins.”

“Looks like you guys could use some help.” Walker and his sidekick introduced themselves.

A surge of rage from the introduction of ‘Captain America’ helped you regain some adrenaline. You turned and started to fight once again.

You let yourself become distracted as Bucky fell from the side of the truck which allowed one of the guys to send you off the truck too.

Sam was quick to fall back with his suit and grab you before you hit the concrete road. However, the impact of him grabbing you did leave you winded.

“Bucky.” You wheezed as the man settled you on the side of the road.

Sam flew up and chased after the trucks.

You took a moment, wincing at your aching body before you rose to your feet and took off in their direction.

You couldn’t catch up to the trucks but it didn’t take long to find Bucky and Sam once you spotted they were both coming out of a field.

“If someone told me I’d be fighting a whole bunch of super soldiers today I would’ve wore my nice pants.” You stated as you approached the two men.

“We knew they were strong but not like this.” Sam defended himself from your anger.

“One of those guys took a knife to the chest and could still walk away.” You threw your arms up as you informed him. This was so much worse than the documents had described.

“It’s going to take a lot more than just a knife to stop these guys.” Bucky’s eyes seemed to carry a storm as he thought.

“How can this be possible? I thought the super soldier serum was gone. What happened in Siberia was supposed to have put an end to it all.” You remembered the failed super soldiers as clear as day.

“We know about as much as you, (Y/n). Unless you tried to, you know, your weird seeing thing?” Sam asked.

“No. It takes it out of me and I can’t do it whilst I’m trying to fight for my life so.” You shook your head as you walked beside the men. Whilst you weren’t as powerful as some of the Avengers, you were a great assassin like Natasha Romanoff. Your talent was your knife throwing but under all the training and all the knowledge, there was a gift. A gift you’d had since birth.

If you touched someone, you could see their entire past, everything they had experienced up until that moment. It really drained you of your energy and over the years you trained yourself so that you could switch it on and off so it didn’t happen every time you touched someone but when you did use it, it usually required a lie down afterwards.

“Sorry about Redwing.” Bucky spoke up after a moment of silence.

“No, you’re not.” Sam rolled his eyes at the fake apology before asking: “What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing.” Bucky grumbled.

“You know what? I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they’re malfunctioning, shutting down. Yep, they’re on fire.” Sam couldn’t help but make fun of Bucky which only made you walk ahead of the men. You weren’t in the mood for this.

“We gotta figure out where the serum’s coming from.” You said to stop their silliness.

“Yeah. And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight Super Soldiers runnin’ loose?” Sam agreed with you just as a transport vehicle began to pull up along side him.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” John Walker’s voice penetrated the space like a foul smelling fart.

He opened the truck’s door to allow you all to hop in but you all ignored him.

“Alright. Let’s keep going.” He told the driver before directing his attention back to you. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…”

"Aliens, androids, or wizards?” Sam spoke up just to prove to Bucky that others knew of the ‘Big Three.’

“Pretty sure.” Walker nodded.

“There’s no such thing as wizards.” Bucky exclaimed which made you cock an eyebrow at the man. You clearly missed a conversation here.

“Then it’s aliens, or androids.” Walker shrugged as if it were obvious.

“––Or Super Soldiers.” Sam added.

“Shit. Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s colleague responded with the reaction you just about expected.

“Yeah.” Sam confirmed.

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together.” Walker’s eyebrows rose as he spoke.

“That’s not happening.” Bucky declared.

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just––”

“––Just ’cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.” Bucky cut Walker short and you were grateful for it. The man was making your head ache.

“Look, I’ve done the work, okay?” Walker sighed.

“You ever jump on top of a grenade?” Bucky shot back but he wasn't met with the answer he wanted.

“Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, any… Look, it’s 20 miles to the airport. You guys need a ride.” Walker got his driver to stop. “Get in.”

You looked back at Sam and Bucky. You hadn’t said anything yet which Sam thought was a record of yours. You chose to give in and climbed into the truck with Bucky and Sam since your body was already aching from the previous fight.

“Okay, so we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” Walker asked, his eye on you as you sat in between Bucky and Sam.

“They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the Blip. Maybe they’re just trying to help.” Sam told Walker what he knew.

“They had a funny way of showing it.” Bucky grimaced as a bruise on his face started to form.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record. No offence.” Walker looked over at Bucky as he hinted at the winter soldier.

“We need to figure out where they’re going.” You wanted to shift the attention away from Bucky.

“She speaks? I have to admit I was starting to wonder.” Walker smiled at you which only made you want to punch him even more than you already did.

“How’d you track ’em here? The Flag Smashers?” Sam could tell you were a second away from decking the new Captain America and hopping ship so carried on the conversation.

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them, we tracked you, uh, through Redwing.” Hoskins notified Sam.

“You hacked my tech?” Sam was beyond irritated at this point.

“Sorry. It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property. Kind of the government.” Walker laughed as he gestured to himself. “Does he always just stare like that?” He stopped laughing under Bucky’s stare.

“You get used to it.” Sam muttered.

“Okay, look, you know, things have gotten kind of, uh––”

“––Chaotic.”Hoskins helped Walker find the word.

“Yeah.” Walker cleared his throat. “The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.”

“Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.” Hoskins tried filling you in as if you hadn't heard about it before. The GRC propaganda was plastered across all the cities in America.

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that. We understand but why exactly are you two here?” You questioned, cocking your head towards Walker.

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable.” Hoskins replied first.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause.” Walker added on.

“Usually said by the people with the resources.” Sam smirked at the men.

“Well, we got a lot of resources. If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could––”

“––No.” Bucky shut Walker down immediately.

“I got mad respect for both of y’all. But you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Hoskins wasn’t helping the situation.

“Who are you?” Bucky asked genuinely.

“Lemar Hoskins.” Hoskins introduced himself once again.

“Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins.” Sam backed Bucky up on that one. A name was nothing in this situation.

“I’m Battlestar. John’s partner.” Hoskins nodded towards Walker and you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips when Bucky responded.

“Battlestar? Stop the car!” Bucky called up ahead.

The car slowed as it pulled into a bus stop. Bucky pushed open the door and you followed. You couldn't stand sitting in front of that man in that uniform another second longer.

"Look, I… I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do. You didn’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I’m… “ Walker turned back to Sam. “I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve. I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be. That’s it. It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.”

Sam scoffed at Walker’s choice of words. Wingmen? He really had the audacity.

“It’s always that last line.” Sam jumped out of the vehicle and followed you and Bucky.

Once back on the aircraft you stripped of your weapons and jacket.

Sam and Bucky did the same.

You sat down on your seat and rested your head back against the wall. You needed an ice bath. Your muscles were screaming at you.

“You alright?” Sam asked Bucky as he sat, his eyes locked on the floor.

You opened your eyes to look over at the men.

“Let’s take the shield, Sam. Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.” Bucky sounded pretty decided.

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it. Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?” Sam sat up slowly as he furrowed his brow at the idea.

“Maybe.” Bucky grumbled.

“I’ll help you in case you forgot.” Sam proclaimed, “Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just got our ass handed to us by Super Soldiers, and we got nothing.”

Even though you did spend some time in Wakanda under protection from their government, there was a period where you were on the run with Steve and Sam and it wasn’t fun. Being pardoned after the fight against Thanos was one of the best things that happened to you; it’s what allowed you to go home.

“Not entirely true.” Bucky pushed himself onto his feet. “There is someone that you should meet.”

Bucky’s eyes met yours and you knew who he was talking about.

You had seen Bucky's past. Everyone of Bucky’s memories. You had seen all the death and the pain and the fighting. You had seen the Winter Soldier and pre-world war Bucky and you had suffered for it for some time. Nightmares used to plague you but you had managed to block most stuff from your mind over the years. Especially the Winter Soldier memories because that wasn’t really Bucky; that was a weapon made by Hydra.

You had been forced by the team to check his memories to see if he really had bombed the UN but you couldn't choose how far you looked back, you gift made you see everything from the earliest childhood memory up to that moment.

You stood and approached Bucky.

“Are you sure about this?” You whispered, taking hold of Bucky’s forearm as you pulled him to one side.

“He should know.” Bucky’s eyes seemed so sure. You dropped your hand down from his arm to his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright then.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as you accepted his choice.

Soon enough the route was changed and the plane turned.

“Will you come?” Bucky asked as the door to the plane opened.

“I’ll wait here but call me if you need me.” You didn’t feel like seeing Isaiah. Some of the time if something from Bucky’s past showed up it could trigger his memories in your own head which you didn’t particularly enjoy.

“Alright.” Bucky sighed but left without you.

Only a short while later you had received a phone call from Sam.

“Hello?” You answered.

“It’s Bucky. He’s been arrested. There was a warrant out for his arrest.” Sam informed you.

“Why?” You were confused. Bucky had been pardoned like the rest of you for his crimes and his warrant wiped.

“He missed his therapy session or something. I’m heading back to your, we gotta go get him out.” Sam hung up pretty quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about the super solider?” Sam asked you as you made your way to the station.

“I only knew because I’ve been inside Bucky’s head but if I listed off every single person Bucky has fought or killed or wronged it would take me a while.” You hated admitting that but the Winter Soldier had done a lot of damage.

“But this was a black super soldier who rotted behind bars for years! Being experimented on like a lab rat whilst Steve sat in the ice and Bucky ran around playing secret assassin!” Sam was angry and you understood why.

“I didn’t know he was in prison. I only knew of him as the guy Bucky fought in Goyang and lost. I figured if Bucky wanted him found then he would say. It’s not my place, they’re not my memories.” You tried to defend yourself but you knew Sam would never understand your logic.

“How can I trust you if you’re sitting on information like that?” Sam catechised you.

“Because you’ve trusted me for years. I say what needs to be said and if it isn't useful to us at the time then I don’t bring it up. I have so much inside of here from people that aren’t even around more. When I go inside someone’s head the memories don’t just go away. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s memories I’m thinking of when I look back on things. I block what I can and deal with what I can’t.” You stopped Sam in the hallway as you snapped. You couldn’t believe he was questioning whether he could trust you or not after everything.

“I know it can be hard for you. I can’t imagine what its like but there are some things more important than others and Isaiah. Isaiah is one of them.” Sam’s words just made you turn and head to the desk.

You tried to get as much information about Bucky but all they instructed you to do was sit and wait.

“Sam?” A woman approached you and Sam. You lifted your head up at the sound of her voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist.”

You shook hands with the woman and introduced yourself.

“I’ve heard some about you too.” Dr. Raynor smiled as she greeted you.

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam thanked her as he shook her hand but she only furrowed her brow.

“That was not me.” She told you both.

“Christina!” You didn’t need super hearing to recognise that voice. “Good to see you again!” Walker was signing autographs as he entered the station.

“You gotta be kidding me. You know him?” Sam only said what you were thinking.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.” Dr Raynor looked between Sam and Walker.

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in.” Walker approached her which made you stepped back. “Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?” Dr Raynor protested.

“Um…” Walker pointed to himself. You felt a fire flare inside of you. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I.”

Walker then pointed to you and Sam.

“You too, Wilson. (Y/l/n). I’ll be outside.” Walker backed away, sending a wink in your direction.

You felt Sam take hold of your wrist quickly before you could even take the chance to lunge forward.

“Breathe.” Sam told you. “We’ll deal with that asshole later.”

Bucky was allowed through and Dr Raynor approached him immediately.

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam.” She insisted as she headed back towards the cells from which Bucky had just come from.

“That’s okay. I’ll be out here with (Y/n).” Sam brushed off the offer except it wasn’t an offer.

“That wasn’t a request.” Dr Rayor warned him.

You pushed the man forward.

“Quicker you’re in, quicker you’re out.” You told him.

“Why doesn’t she want you?” Sam pouted.

“Get moving before I get bored and decide to use John Walker out there as my new punching bag. Get myself in trouble.” You tried to make the man laugh but failed. He only groaned and dragged himself inside.

It didn’t take long for Sam to storm out of there who was swiftly followed by Bucky.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked Sam as he returned to you.

“Peachy.” He sneered.

You sighed and followed both men outside.

“Well, I feel better.” Sam announced once you were all finally outside.

“I feel awful.” Bucky muttered which made you want to take his hand but you refrained as a siren drew your attention over to Walker and his buddy.

“Gentlemen. Lady. Good to see you again.” Walker had a smile on that you wanted to wipe clean off. “ Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

“Well do you have anything that’s actually useful?” You folded your arms across your chest as you closed in on the men.

"Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” Walker started.

“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.” Hoskins continued.

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker finished.

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip. So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.” Bucky’s glowered at the man as he leant on the cop car.

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” Walker smirked as he snapped back.

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky rose his voice.

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.” Walker rose his voice also.

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” Bucky was being cocky. You had to stop yourself from finding it amusing.

“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” Sam interrupted and seemed to clear the air a little. You took his last words as a chance to leave but Walker wasn’t done.

“A word of advice, then.” Walker stopped you all. “Stay the hell out of my way.”

You watched the two men walk away. Your jaw clenching together to stop you from saying something you’d regret.

“Come on.” Sam urged you on and you forced yourself to walk away.

Once you were far enough from the station Sam asked you both what you were thinking.

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’...” Bucky was the one of out you both to speak first.

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.” Sam began.

“No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people.” Bucky corrected him.

“Not a chance.” You shook your head, putting your foot down.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.” Bucky claimed.

“Bucky, I know where you’re going with this and I’m saying no.” You couldn’t believe he was even suggesting it.

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets.” Bucky tried to reason with you.

“Don’t you remember Siberia?” Sam also knew exactly what Bucky meant.

Bucky nodded.

“So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam stared at Bucky with a mixture of shock and concern.

“Yes.” Bucky was hesitant to answer which only made you hate this idea even more.

“Okay, then.” Sam sighed. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

“No! No, we aren’t not going to see Zemo!” You demanded causing both the boys to stop.

“(Y/n), it’s different now.” Bucky declared.

“It’s the only lead we got.” Sam was actually on Bucky’s side.

“What? And you think he’s just gonna help us like that?” You scoffed out of disbelief.

“We have to try.” Bucky started to walk again.

“I trust this guy about as far as I can throw him, Buck!” You exasperated.

“That’s more than me.” Sam murmured but you chose to ignore it.

“(Y/n). We’re going.” Bucky wasn't arguing anymore. It was going to happen.

(PART 2 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tags

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16 @shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagines #sam Wilson imagines #Sam Wilson #falcon #the winter soldier #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan imagines #Sebastian Stan x reader

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kaijurakunsobs · 4 years ago

Note

Karl coming back to you and the baby after a successful REVOLUTION!! Cause he deserves happiness (and maybe ethans there because I want rosemary and lil maginito baby to be friends

I like how you think anon

this one is gonna be fun and LONG

Let's start by pretending Ethan wasn't just a human chia pet, but the mold made him mutate like the Lords, he has no powers but his body is just...sturdier

that being said...

after Miranda's announcement of finding the perfect vessel and presenting Rose to the Lords, you could tell Heisenberg was extremely close to start his rebellion in that moment, what stopped him? that your child is waiting for the return of their parents and you still have no way out of everything goes wrong

it feels grotesque to receive a piece of such an innocent baby in a flask

through the creep vine you both learn about Ethan being in the Village, the father of the stolen child, you can see the expression in Karl's face shift into one of hope, he knows something you don't

when Winters is brought to the church you both play your role of sadistic monsters, giving a "show" for Donna and Moreau, but you have made sure there are useful things "left behind" by previous participants of your little game

with bated breaths, you follow his progress, feeling more and more hope with each Lord he takes down

Heisenberg cheers loudly when Dimitrescu goes down, lifting you off the ground and howling harder when only Moreau remains

He knows that, Ethan won't take it well when he arrives at the factory, so you offer to be the one to welcome him, reminding Karl to keep his cool and be straight with his answers and go to the point

NO THREATENING THE GUESS WITH THROWING HIM TO THE STURM

Ethan is, indeed, shaken up when he comes into the factory and the first thing he sees is you, he saw you at the church, why are you waiting for him?

"I must say, under other circumstances, it would have been...nice to meet you, but there's no time to lose, come with me, please"

he's hesitant, which is understandable, but he follows, a hand always hovering over his gun and eyes following your every move

when you reach Karl's center of command, you are careful with asking to sit and please listen to what you two have to say

"That boulder punching guy and his people are here, right Ethan?" Karl has his back to the other man "You see...me and Y/N...we need your help"

"My help!? after everything, each and everyone single one of you psychos put through?!"

But Karl is not listening, he starts to tell his story...your story, how Miranda took you both and used you like she's trying to use Rose, but you two were defective, useless, he wants revenge and is willing to do anything to get it

There's desperation in his voice but Winters seems unmoved by it, later you will admit that what you did was manipulative but as long as it works

Both men see you leave and come back with your child in arms, the kid is a bit older than Rose, the gray hair and factions that resemble yours is all that Ethan needs to know, Heisenberg as a child

they are vastly different but, he's like Ethan, he just wants to put his family in a safe place, so he accepts with the promise of "I'll kill you the moment you try to betray me"

Involving and convincing Chris is a lot harder, the man is already pissed at Ethan and now he's besties with 2 of Miranda's underlings? but time is running out and hes desperate for help, and maybe, it could actually work

Chris gives Heisenberg coordinates of where there's gonna be someone waiting for you and the kid, and that you have to be quick in reaching the point or they will leave with out you

of course, you panic! Karl is staying behind and you have to go? you want to kick Chris in the face and make him change his mind, he already has the soldats, why does he need Karl too?!

it's he who has to almost drag you away towards where the Duke is, he knows he has a better chance of getting you there, Miranda won't spare a glance at the merchant

a hefty payment and promises of coming back to you later, you are delivered safely to the team, Karl's trench coat draped over your shoulders and a sack filled with some of your most precious items. feeling like that's the last time you will see him again.

from the helicopter's window, you see with horror how the factory gets destroyed, gasping when Karl's mechanical form appears from the rubble and his army moving to where Miranda must be

the wait is grueling, painful, the sounds of gunfire and explosions make you jump, your crying child screams for their father, but this time, hes not there to calm the not cries and make them laugh

it's past dawn when the bigger explosion shakes the helicopter and when you cry the hardest, believing hes dead, that he die protecting you both.

the entire ride back to the BSAA is spent in silence, your child cried themselves to sleep and you are...just there...heartbroken, unable to shed another tear

a group of paramedics comes to you when you arrive at the new area, asking you questions and trying to check you for any wounds, but you don't answer or hear or care

from far away you see him, limping and using Ethan as a crutch, and then you are running, harder than you have ever done in your life, a strong hold in your baby

Karl looks up to see you and he can't help but smile and cry, open arms waiting for you and catching you, not carrying for his wounds, hes just there and his family is safe...and the 3 of you are free

neither of you put up a fight when the BSAA informs you that you will be under surveillance or that wherever you go you are expected to stay close to their offices, you laugh wholeheartedly when Karl asks "But we can go anywhere...you won't keep us locked away?"

Mia is the one who insists that both families must be close to each other, and you accept

it feels like a dream when Karl comes back and bitches about something that happened in the new lab, he may not be allowed to use corpses but hes allowed to tinker around with his creations and help to contain all bioweapons

you see your child grow and little Rose comes often to play, both children laugh and run around, not knowing what life they could have had

they whisper secrets and share what they have, Mia lights up whenever your kid gives her drawings, Karl melts down a bit when Rosemary calls him "uncle Heis"

and you see him change, he no longer frowns or gets irritated, he giggles or tells jokes, you have caught him develop a true fascination in watching videos and play video games

for once in so long...everything is finally fine

#karl heisenberg #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x reader #re8 #mia winters #ethan winters #x reader #answer stuff #rosemary winters #baby stuff

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skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

Text

Clementia

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You’d always had a special place in your heart for Lee Minho even though he gives you countless reasons to hate him. How long will your patience last?

Warning: alcohol, sexual assault

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x Minho

“Y/N—”

“Go away, Minho.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

“I said no!”

“Well I said I’m sorry.”

You snap around to face him. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Lee Minho. You screwed up. You. Screwed. Up. I gave you one request, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I had my reasons!” he protests.

“Yeah? Well let’s hear them.”

He emits a few noises but can't come up with anything. His face flushes red, but not as red as yours.

“There’s no excuse for breaking someone’s heart ever. Remember that.” You turn on your heels and begin walking away until he says something even more repulsive.

“Why do you care so much? She’s not even your real sister!” he calls after you.

You pause, unable to comprehend how such words could ever enter your ears. You then slowly walk back to him as he stiffens with every step you take.

“Not my real sister?” Your voice is soft, but it is effective.

“I mean—”

“You’re saying the girls at Epsilon Phi aren’t sisters?” Your voice begins to rise. “We’re more sisters than you and I were ever friends, Lee Minho! We love each other more than biological families do, but of course you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you? All you have in your chest is a cold, hard piece of coal!”

You turn away and break off into a run this time. Tears stream down your face from being insulted and betrayed by someone you held with high esteem.

You like Lee Minho. Of course, you’d never admit that. To the world, he is just some kid of your mom’s friend who annoyed you to no end, but through the arguments and time spent trying to prove each other wrong, your feelings grew bit by bit. When he had a relationship with your very own Little, you held in your feelings and wished them both the best. After all, you love both of them, and their happiness together was good enough for you.

That is, until Minho broke things off as nothing but a fling.

Minho has always been a huge flirt, but he’d promised to take her seriously this time. You made him swear it, and you emphasized how much your Little meant to you. Now, because you’re his family friend, your Little won’t even speak to you. Minho had ruined your and her relationship, and evidently yours and his too.

He didn’t used to be like this, all manipulative and amorous. You remember he used to follow you at the heel, caring about nothing more than sticking gum in your hair. It wasn’t until senior year of high school did he start hanging out with random girls and trying daredevilish things. You missed the old Minho, but you thought you’d accept him for all his changes since you did, after all, like him.

Until this moment, that is.

What he did was too much. What he said was too much. You know he is becoming toxic, and if he is going to continue down this path, even your love isn’t going to bring him back to your heart.

Minho watches your waning back then slams his fist against a nearby tree with a curse. You didn’t give him enough time to explain, not that he would have been able to in front of you.

You’d forgive him though, right? You have to. When he messed up before this, Minho could be sure you would. But now, he isn’t so certain. He has never seen you so angry and disappointed before, and he did that to you. Him. Minho lets out another string of curses and trudges back to his room.

He tries making it up to you the very next morning. He shows up to your 8 AM class with a cup of coffee and slides it onto your desk before sitting down himself.

You don’t even look at him. You just take the cup and slam it down in front of him, causing its contents to spill and burn your fingers. He quickly takes your hand in his and begins wiping it with his sleeve, but you recoil your arm and take out your own napkin.

The next place he tries is at your neighboring frat party. He knows you would be there, so he wears his tightest black jeans and a loose button-up. This trick has worked with other girls, so he hopes it would on you.

He takes the dance floor with his powerful dance moves and charisma. He can see you deliberately turned away from him and chatting with someone else, so he dances towards you. The cheering circle that has formed around him moves as well, engulfing you into the crowd.

You finally turn to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. Minho takes this chance to shoot you a wink which draws the crowd’s attention to you. They cheer and push you towards him despite your protests.

Minho takes your arm and leads you in the dance. You used to like dancing with him; your and his flow matches perfectly, and the two of you could revive a dying party just by dancing together. Today though, you just aren’t having it.

Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and scoops his hips low earning a cheer from the crowd. You can hear them calling your name, anticipating your response. You look down at Minho and immediately recognize his choice of clothing.

I wonder who’s going to have her heart broken tomorrow, you think with a dry laugh. Minho flinches, recognizing that sound. You take his falter as a chance to fling his arm off of you before walking away.

A chorus of oohs fills the room, and the crowd splits like the Red Sea for you.

You hear your name from his lips again. “Y/N!” It is more strained now than it was last night. Desperate. Defeated.

You gave him some thought after hearing the sincerity in his tone, but you are glad you did not turn around that night when you see him in class with some other girl on his lap. Whatever. He’s dead to you now, so why should you care what he’s doing?

Minho watches as you walk farther and farther from him. He pushes the girl off and continues to stare with narrowed eyes at you as you greet your new seat neighbors.

This isn’t how he predicted you would react. Truthfully, he kind of knew this attempt wouldn’t work. For one, it hadn’t worked once since he first tried it in high school. He thought hanging out with other girls would make him more attractive, more desirable by competition. At least, that’s what some then-college kids told him. Once he started, he just found himself unable to stop. It was a self-feeding cycle, really. Holding onto other girls and charming them numbs the void in his chest, but you ignore him whenever he acts like this which only further widens the gap.

What is he to do though? This is the only life he knows, and so, it is the life he leads. Not all love stories can end happily.

And his sure doesn’t seem like it is going to.

Sirens wail in the background. With the amount of girls he’s fooled around with, he kind of had it coming. Minho stares at his wrists, not daring to think, but one thought keeps recurring in his mind: you. He is going to disappoint you yet again. You already hate him, and now you are going to see him handcuffed too.

The cold wind makes him shiver when you, his emergency contact, open the door and step into the station. Your eyes immediately find him, and you make your way over.

“Y/—”

“Are you hurt?” you ask plainly.

Despite your icy tone, those three simple words fill him with a warmth he hasn’t known for a long time.

“I’m okay.” His hands reach forward, wanting to grab yours and keep you with him, but you’ve already walked away to announce your arrival to an officer.

“Miss L/Y Y/N?” a young official greets a little too enthusiastically. She looks familiar, you note.

“Yes, I am she.”

The officer looks pleased by your annoyed attitude towards the defendant. “Mister Lee is here tonight because of an accusation by Miss Choi of assault,” she informs you coyly.

You look at him. “Minho,” you said with a chilled voice. “Is it true?”

“No! Y/N, I wouldn’t—”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“Excuse me?” the officer sputters.

“I believe him,” you repeat. “He’s been going out with more people than I have fingers, but he never laid a finger on them.”

“But Y/N, that doesn’t mean he can’t start now,” the officer protests. “You’re his contact, but you hate him now. Surely, he’s changed”

“First of all, it’s Miss L/N to you, Officer” —you read her name tag and pieces begin to fall together from her eagerness to convict Minho to the inkling you felt the moment you saw her— “Yoo. And secondly, is it not against the law for you to be working on a case where your cousin’s the accuser?”

“How did you—!”

“Nothing escapes us Epsilon Phi sisters, even news from other sororities. Besides, Minho never plays with the same girl twice. As expected, this report is filed for an incident two months ago. You, Officer Yoo, knew I was his contact and waited for us to get into yet another fight before having your cousin put in the accusation, didn’t you?”

She scoffs in your face. “That’s a bold accusation from yourself towards law enforcement.”

“Where is the accuser right now? Shouldn’t she be here for interrogation as well?”

“Well she—” the officer looks increasingly flustered. “She needs rest after having to relive the memories of what happened. We’ll call her in tomorrow. Anyway, Mr. Lee Minho, I can hear your testimony now in room #3.”

Minho stands obediently.

“Wait. I request someone else interrogate him,” you object.

“We’re busy right now,” Officer Yoo huffs. “We can’t just let you choose who does the job.”

You cross your arms. “Sure. Interrogate him and have the entire case be nulled after I file a conflict of interest.”

Officer Yoo grits her teeth but returns to her station to call for another officer.

In the meantime, you turn to Minho. “Don’t answer anything you don’t want to, especially if they start leading you on with questions. It’s in your rights to remain silent, alright?”

Minho nods numbly at your words, still confused as to why you are so nice to him. Before he can figure it out though, an older man appears from the back and takes him to an interrogation room.

“Mr. Lee Minho?”

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chief Jeon. I’m just going to ask you a few questions today; is that alright?”

“Yes.”

The chief nods and pulls out some papers. “Would you mind describing what happened with Miss Choi?”

“Well I was with—” he gestures towards the papers with his accuser’s name on it— “and we were hitting it off. She bought me a couple of drinks and at some point leaned in to kiss me. I realized something at that point, and I stopped her. She got angry, saying how she spent all that cash on alcohol for me, and threatened to accuse me of assault if I didn’t do what she said, but I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of what you realized?” the chief repeats.

“... Yes.”

“And what was it you realized?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“According to the law, no, but if it can help you with your case, you might want to.”

Minho fidgets with his cuffs. “They can’t hear me from outside, right?”

“No. They most certainly cannot.”

And so, Minho tells him.

Minho turns around while the metal bars clang shut behind him. The chief thinks he has a pretty good chance, but due to the gravity of the accusation, they still decided to keep Minho in holding to give the accuser more time to make her case.

You stare at him from the other side, arms crossed. Minho takes the fact that you’re still here at two in the morning as a good sign for him.

“Thanks for being here,” he tries to start a conversation.

“I didn’t really have a choice.” So cold.

“I’ll change my emergency contact.”

“Please do.”

He winces. “Look… Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for insulting your sisterhood and for hurting your Little. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

He looks at you with those doe-like eyes of his. For once, you don’t feel anything while looking back at them.

“That’s not why I’m mad anymore. In fact, I’m not even mad,” you tell him. “My Little told me what really happened. She told me that she was actually the one who dumped you after you adamantly refused to kiss her. I asked some other girls you’ve seen and they all said the same thing. That’s why I was so confident with the officer earlier. I guess I owe you an apology for getting angry when you weren’t at fault.”

“Then”—he holds out a hand sheepishly— “truce?”

You look at it but keep your arms crossed. “Taking a step back from you has made me see things I wasn’t able to before, Minho, and that’s made me realize how much you’ve changed. You were my friend, my rival— someone who never failed to get on my nerves but also someone I couldn’t go without. But now” —you drop your arms and shake your head— “I can’t even recognize you anymore.”

You take a step back to leave. You’ve done this many times before, like when he stuck a plastic spider down your shirt or when he called you stupid in front of your crush in fifth grade, but something about this time feels different. Something about this time tells him you aren’t turning back around once you left.

A sudden despair grips Minho and he runs into the bars. “Wait!”

You pause, offering him one last second.

“Your Little,” he gasps, “did she tell you why I wouldn’t kiss her?”

You nod. “The others I asked did too. They said you were thinking about some other girl while you were with them.”

“Not ‘some other’ girl. One other girl.”

“I know.” You begin to walk again.

“Then why are you leaving?” He reaches a hand out, trying to grab any part of you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N, stay.”

You don’t pause a second time. Out of desperation, he cries out, “Y/N, I love you!”

That makes you stop midstep. He holds his breath as you put one foot back then the other next to it to face him. You are so beautiful when you look at him. He melts under your gaze as you focus on him and only him. He’ll cherish you this time when you give him another chance. He’ll quit this playboy lifestyle. He won’t take advantage of your patience anymore. He’ll give you all that his heart has to offer. He’ll make sure you’re the only one in his eyes. He’ll love you. He loves you.

“Minho.” You relax your shoulders and straighten your back. You tilt your head just slightly forward and erase the edge off your tone. “I loved you.”

#lee minho #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fic #minho fic #lee know fic #stray kids imagine #lee know imagine #minho imagine #stray kids angst #lee know angst #skz #enemies to lovers #fem reader #2nd anniversary special #20210815

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn’t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out.

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

#Loki #Loki Odinson #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki / Reader #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Marvel #Self Ship #Writing #Fanfiction

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Floorboards Pt. V

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI

Alright so maybe you spoke too soon; the four of you were going to do great things, minus Tommy. Technoblade had finally agreed to let you join Tommy and him on an adventure into L’manberg. The plan was to crash their festival, and ultimately attempt to get Tommy’s discs back from Dream and Tubbo. You expected your first adventure into the country to be fun, if anything you’d get to steal some shit, what you didn’t expect was to be thrown in the middle of a public dispute.

Clearly, you underestimated what ‘getting the discs back’ actually entailed.

You and Technoblade were back to back swords drawn, surrounded by about thirty people in the ruin of what was once deemed a community house. Technoblade never would’ve agreed to let you come if he thought the confrontation with Dream was going to be this serious, he assumed they’d watch from afar. If things got to dicey Tommy and him would rush in and he’d have you stay behind to watch from afar. If only he could’ve predicted someone blowing up a random building would cause such turmoil.

Nothing could ever come up Technoblade.

“Yah know when you first invited me out to partake in a festival for some reason I didn’t expect to be attacked by like thirty people.” You chirped a hesitant smile on your face as Technoblade made a confused sound.

“You definitely should’ve expected it,” Technoblade grumbled, barely taking his eyes off of Tommy and Tubbo’s argument. You watched Techno’s back but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the boys conversation as well. As much as your heart broke for the two war-torn children, you had your alliance first and foremost with your boyfriend. You also couldn’t help but feel this conversation should be happening privately but here they were airing things out seemingly for the first time in front of everybody. Speaking of your boyfriend, your attention was drawn back to him as he caught Tommy’s attention, “be very careful what your decision is here Tommy.”

You narrowed your eyes and took a step in front of Technoblade, he made his classic ‘heh’ sound as you did so. You felt his hand grip your forearm and tighten trying to hold you back in case you wanted to do something stupid.

“Tommy, come home with us.” You held out your hand to him, the one Technoblade didn’t have a hold of obviously. “Phil’s waiting for us, we’ll get your discs back together as we planned.” The smile on your face could part the cloudiest of days and it broke Tommy’s heart, she had given him something that he hadn’t had since the war with Dream began.

A home.

“(Y/N),” That’s the first time he used your name, the first time you weren’t just Ms Blade. It broke your heart and you whimpered a little bit, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me. But I can’t go back with you and Technoblade. I don’t like what I’ve become, this isn’t me. I’m sorry. I hope one day we can be friends again. Tubbo give Dream my disc.” You leaned back into Technoblade in disbelief, Tommy had just betrayed Technoblade right before your very eyes. The man who gave Tommy the clothes on his back and a place to stay when no one else would. Weapons to help him fight against Dream when everyone else abandoned him, even though they all treated Technoblade as a weapon he still went out of his way to help Tommy. Your hands clenched into fists at your side as Dream let out a roaring laugh collecting the disc from Tubbo. He called the two children stupid right to their face and no matter how angry you were with them that was harsh, it’s like everyone in this country forgets that they are children. Children fuck up, it’s how they learn and it’s in their nature why does no one here understand that. You looked up at Techno your eyebrows furrowed and you pressed your lips tight but he didn’t take his eyes off Dream, he had different priorities in mind.

Protecting you from the Dreamon if anything went south.

Dream continued to mock and criticize the people of L’manberg before turning to you and Technoblade. The mask he wore may hide his facial expressions, but it couldn’t mask the unadulterated glee in his voice. Technoblade pulled you behind him as Dream stepped closer to the both of you, you felt a growl rumble in Technoblade’s chest,

“That’s close enough.”

“Down boy.” Dream mused, holding up his hands to show faux innocence. “I have no issues with the both of you. Tomorrow, with your help, Technoblade and woman.”

“(Y/N).”

“Don’t tell him your name.” Technoblade gaped at you and you only could huff in frustration,

“Better than just being called woman! Plus Tommy already said it.”

With an eye-roll Dream continued his speech, “With the help of Technoblade and (Y/N) L’manberg is going to be a crater. We’re blowing it sky-high.” Dream turned over to face Tubbo once again, “I had to pretend to be friends with you, to get the dumb disk back! I don't care about you. I'm not your friend. Okay? I cared about getting the disk back, and I got the disk back. I got it back. And that's-that's- that's the only thing that really matters. You can't even run your nation right. RANBOO IS A TRAITOR. ONE OF YOUR MOST TRUSTED FRIENDS.”

Your eyes widened as you spotted another child looking horrified, it was the half enderman from the butcher gang. You’re adopting him next.

“NO, IT IS TRUE. READ THIS BOOK. READ THIS BOOK. There's his memory book. He was meeting with Techno and Tommy and told them EVERYTHING. The proof’s all his own memories! He writes it down! You can't even run your own nation correctly Tubbo. Listen. Tubbo, you, I mean you, ... L'Manberg is weaker than it's ever been, and it's because of you! You have- you have destroyed everything. You have ruined your friendships. You have ruined L'Manberg's allies. You have just-you are a horrible president Tubbo.” Dream continued as Tubbo looked sick to his stomach, you felt just as nauseous.

“YEAH, YOU SUCK TUBBO!”

“TECHNOBLADE!”

“What?” He flinched at your tone, “he’s right!”

“They’re children,” You tried to argue but Dream cut you off by stepping in between you and Technoblade. Your pulse skyrocketed as you were separated, and you made sure an ender pearl was at the ready. Tommy looked at the both fo you nervously, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes when you defended Tubbo. Tommy turned over to Tubbo who honestly looked just as shocked that a partner of Technoblade’s would defend him, espeically considering he had tried to kill her a few days prior. Tommy had hope that he wasn’t completely dead to you.

“Techno. Got any withers?” You watched a sickening smile spread across Techno’s lips he picked at his nails.

“I got a few.”

“Good. Then I’ll see you all tomorrow when the L’manberg loses its last cannon life,” Dream announced before disappearing into the wind. The citizens turned to face you and Technoblade, he only had to utter a single word:

“Run,” Before both of you pearled away from the wreckage of the community house.

Technoblade scooped you up in his arms as he made his way through the Nether portal back to his base. He was much faster than you were and you didn’t fight him on wanting to make a quick getaway. You both were silent on the way back to his base, bottom line was you didn’t know how you felt about what just went down. On one hand, destruction was your middle name and you weren’t going to oppose blowing a government to smithereens with your boyfriend.

Nothing could be more romantic than that.

Yet at the same time, unlike Technoblade, you felt the guilt eat away at you. These were people’s homes, and lives you’d be destroying tomorrow. Most of the citizens you had no affiliation with, which you were grateful for, but those you did you almost couldn’t justify blowing the country up. Tommy was by all accounts dead to Technoblade and by that extent you as well. Still, you didn’t want to see him physically dead, it wasn’t his fault he got corrupted by the government and a homeless teletubby.

You were starting to sound like Technoblade now too.

You made a sound of distress and Techno glanced down at your form, his face flushed as you nuzzled your nose against his neck.

“You okay princess?”

“No…” You answered with a sigh, you reached out and twirled a strand of his pink hair through your fingers. “Tommy’s gone, we’re going to blow up a country tomorrow. I feel bad for the people we’re gonna leave homeless. So, no I’m not okay bubs.” The socially awkward man winced a little as he battled with what to say to you, he tends to forget you both aren’t the same person. For as much as both of you agree, you were still different from him, you had more empathy than he could ever wish to have.

“You don’t have to come.”

He watched a frown appear on your face as you pulled away from him. You clicked your tongue in distaste, a sure sign that you were about to pick a fight with the blood god. You were one opponent he could never seem to defeat. That did not come out the way he intended.

Time to backtrack before he got his ass handed to him.

“What I mean is, you have no affiliation with L’manberg. You have no prior issues you need to settle with them so technically you can stay home tomorrow, no one would blame you. You’d be safer away from the explosions, I’d feel better with you at home.”

“That way you’d only have to worry about Phil tomorrow right?”

“Well, that’s part of it,” He stated bluntly, never one to be dishonest. “He has only one life and he’s going to want to fight, he has a lot to avenge. The government drove his eldest son mad, enough that Phil had to kill him. He’s one of my oldest friends, I wanna look out for him and protect him.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly at his response, you brushed your thumb across his cheek fondly.

“You’re wrong.”

“Eh?”

“I do have something I want to fight for, I want to fight for what I believe is right. Let’s face it Techno the way everyone’s treating those children is sick. Dream manipulated Tommy and used Tubbo to get what he wanted from him. I know you did what you thought was right for Tommy but he’s a product of a war-torn country, they all are. Now, that doesn’t excuse his betrayal but… did he even know what the right thing to do was in this situation, does he even truly know what peace is? I want to fight to protect those kids. They deserve to know peace, true peace away from bloodshed and war. If I can I want to give them that.” You watched Technoblade’s jaw tighten, “I’m going with you tomorrow but I’m not going to kill the children.”

“I don’t think I can ever forgive Tommy.” He sighed adjusting his grip on you a sure sign he was nervous, “but I love you.” Techno kissed you once again, it was long and tender you watched as the apples of his cheeks turn red after you both pulled away. He took a breath, “You’re unstoppable and you’ve never stopped me before so I won’t do the same for you. Just stay safe. Please. You need to come home with me tomorrow I won’t settle for anything else.”

“I will. I promise.” You pressed a light kiss to his cheek, and he hummed gently in response. “I love you Technoblade, I’ll fight beside you. Till the end of the line.”

“Till the end of the line,” He repeated as you both approached the snow-covered house to convene with Philza Minecraft himself.

~~~

Hi guys! Officially feeling a bit better, enough to get a small part out before I work on the next chapter. I hope you like it, thanks so much for reading and your amazing feedback. Also, thanks so much for your kind words and well wishes! Also, also, If anyone ever makes fanart of this story (I doubt it would happen) please tag me and let me know. I love to make art myself and always wanna support other artists! Thanks Again!

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #fanfiction #fanfic #minecraft fanfiction #x reader #dreamsmp x reader #minecraft x reader #x you #Blood for the Blood God #rp #dream smp

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l-wannabe-l · 3 years ago

Text

Help Me Understand

Austin wants answers to his questions about love whether or not Aria's ready face her own answers.

For @mimeticpolyalloy1000

Heavy footfalls, the forceful opening of a door, and the sudden blinding flash of artificial light after steady nighttime darkness bring Aria out of her sleepy time.

“Aria I need to ask you something,” Austin says formally announcing his presence only to be met with a sleepy and annoyed groan.

"Austin, not that I'm mad but why are you in my room at 3 in the morning?" At her response, he turns to look at the digital clock on her bedside, long enough to register the blinking numbers.

“... Should I come back later?” Aria sits up in bed making sure her pajamas, consisting of a thin tank and comfy pajama bottoms, covered everything. Not that she thinks Austin would give it much notice.

"No no, if I don't answer your question you'll just pace up and down the place keeping me up anyway." She says motioning him to sit down, expecting him to sit near the foot of the bed only to fluster when he sits down only a foot or two away from her. She clears her throat, composing herself before continuing “So what did you want to ask me?”

“I need you to explain what it means to love someone.” Less of a question, more like a demand said in the same factoid way of speech he has when intaking information.

"... Huh,” she uttered, wondering if it was too late to send him away. “Listen, love can mean different things to different people so I can't guarantee that it'll be the same to other people," Aria tells him, not very keen on having this conversation at all.

"Well, what does it mean to you?" Austin’s counter-question gave Aria pause, she had to turn away from him as she really thought about it. She had put the need to prepare for this moment on the backburner, both to keep a level head in the midst of the battle for the future and because she didn’t actually know how to describe love.

To Aria, love was once a cozy woodside cabin with a grandmother who smelled like lilac and taught her how to make paper flowers. Or an apartment with her mom who would bring home her favorite food from the diner she worked at. And her aunt Ginger who once had a bright smile and a contagious laugh, reserved for moments like when she tried to teach Aria how to use makeup to comically bad results. Nowadays, love came in the form of a mother who could be as cold and strict as gunmetal and just as unrelenting. Love also came in the form of her little brother with impish smiles and big hazel eyes that always betrayed his thoughts and emotions in a way only she was ever around to read. Her brother, who she was tasked to guard from the first moment her mother felt him kick and who she seriously vowed to protect when he first held her finger in his little baby fists.

“I think love means to care about someone enough to put their happiness and well-being over your own. Because when you see them smile and hear them laugh, you want nothing more than to make sure that they can keep it no matter what it takes…even if the means hurt you in the process.” When she was done talking she turned back to Austin, in time to see his gaze shift from her to just over her shoulder, Aria could tell he wasn't looking at anything in particular and was taking a moment to analyze her response both the intended verbal answer and the unintentional physical reaction she had to the question. It unnerved her how well Austin could read her and it’s with those same nerves that she asks her next question.

"Austin,” at the sound of Aria’s voice Austin focused his eyes back on hers, “we've been around each other for a few weeks now so why did you wait so long to ask."

"I needed time to process. I needed to know if these new… feelings would correspond with your explanation." He explains, simple words ladened with not so simple meanings.

"And?" Austin gave an uncharacteristic and unsure shrug. A very human gesture of cluelessness, too human for either’s comfort. "... What do you know, Austin?" Aria's voice seemed to startle her for a second as if she hadn't meant to say it out loud before she schooled her features back down to a neutral farce. She knew she had just asked a dangerous question but she needed to know his answer, for her own sake.

Austin shifted closer to Aria on the bed to the point he could faintly hear her heart beating at a quickened pace. He made sure to keep eye contact with her as he gave his answer.

"I know that I look for you when you're not around. I know that when you are, I can’t bring myself to be far from you. I know I've memorized everything from your appearance to your speech pattern. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to hear more of your voice. Doesn't stop me from wanting to… see more of you." His eyes flick down for the briefest moment and Aria's tank top suddenly felt way too heavy and way too thick.

“I know all these wants confuse and alarm me in a way I hadn’t been able to describe.” There was a ‘till now’ that went unsaid, but both knew it was insinuated.

“And most of all,” he says as he leans in even closer till their faces were inches apart, “I want to know what you know, Aria.” He says as his eyes roam her face searching for something Aria’s not sure she wants him finding. Apparently, he doesn't find it and he lets a small, almost sad, smile fall upon his lips.

“But I know that’s not gonna happen anytime soon,” he said as he leaned back still holding Aria’s attention captive, “So, for now, I’ll leave you to rest. Goodnight Aria.” And as swiftly as he entered, he left, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. The only evidence that he had been there was the ragged breath Aria let out, after unconsciously holding it in. Despite Austin’s words and the early hour she knew she definitely wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight.

#terminator #the terminator #terminator judgement day #terminator 2 #t2 #t-1000 #austin #Aria Connor #my oc #Austin x Aria #short circuit

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goldenavenger02 · 4 years ago

Text

I can't be alone with all that's on my mind

But the hatred took over, after all. He should've been the green ninja. He should've been the one who was chosen to defeat The Overlord. "I don't want to control it! This isn't anything I don't already feel!"

Takes place after The Forgotten Element

•••

Kai's stomach convulsed as he gripped onto the toilet seat tightly, his knuckles going white.

As soon as the horror had sunk in that Skylor and Lloyd were injured by his greed and that Skylor had been taken, he had bolted to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet in time before his stomach spilled over.

Which brought him to where he was now, bent over sick in the small bathroom just outside of the main room.

•••

"You have to destroy the staff, Kai!" Lloyd pleaded, running up to him as he continued to blast Chen's lackies.

"Chen was right! This thing's awesome!"

"Kai, it holds too much power! Destroy it!" He heard Lloyd say to someone "if we don't get that staff out of his hands-!"

"No one is taking my staff!" He yelled, anger in his voice. This was his now. He deserved it, after all. Lloyd just wanted to be the special one again. "You had all the power, now it's my turn!"

He shook the thoughts out of his head briefly, glaring at the offending object. "What am I saying? I can't… I can't control it!"

"No, Kai! Don't!" Lloyd pleaded, his arm in front of Skylor. A pathetic attempt to stop him, really, as he started to use the powers, the rush flowing through his body

"I should've been the green ninja!"

And with that, he launched the blast, watching the terror in their faces. He relished it with a grin.

•••

"Kai?" A voice broke him out of his thoughts, resulting in a shudder. He couldn't quite place who it was, but then it came again. "Kai, can I come in?"

A cough cut him off from responding to Cole, but he swallowed it back. "Yeah."

The door opened and Cole sat on the floor next to him, setting his hand against his back, "FSM, you're sweating through your gi." He heard him mutter under his breath, "I brought some water if you're up to it."

Kai shook his head; he wasn't very nauseous anymore, but he also wasn't sure he could keep anything down just yet since the nausea was now being replaced by the sinking feeling of guilt.

"Sensei G's got Lloyd," Cole spoke, clearly knowing exactly what Kai was thinking, "He's got some burns, and he's kinda weak from the whole "powers being sucked out of him" thing, but he's gonna be okay."

Kai nodded, but then the second thought came to his head. 'Nya still thinks I betrayed her and everyone else.'

Once again, Cole cut him off before he could even speak. "Lloyd explained the whole thing, they're not mad. Nya said your plan was dumb, but that was it."

Kai couldn't hold back his chuckle at the mental image of Nya critiquing his plan, but it was short-lived. 'Skylor's still hurt. And missing.'

"No one blames you, you did what you thought was right." Cole spoke softly, gently setting his hand on Kai's shoulder, who finally mustered up the strength to move away from the toilet and take the cup of water from Cole's hand, muttering under his breath as he drank.

"Don't think telling Lloyd that I should've been the green ninja before blasting him was right."

"You weren't in your right mind, the staff-"

"The staff brought out my subconscious thoughts that I've had since we found out about the prophecy." Kai interrupted, setting the empty glass down on the floor.

"The staff makes one greedy, power hungry. I don't know how it does it, but it obviously does. The reason it had no effect on Chen was because the dude was already cuckoo for cocoa puffs," Kai couldn't hold back a snort at the ridiculous phrasing, "and if you don't believe me, you can go ask Lloyd for his two cents."

Kai sighed. He knew he should talk to Lloyd, at least see that he was okay for himself, but at the same time, he had hurt Lloyd, the one he swore to protect when he was fully aware of what he was doing.

"It's up to you. Alternatively, you could help us try to find Chen, but considering you just threw up your guts, I'd go with the safer choice of talking to Lloyd."

Kai used the wall to pull himself to his feet, hitting the knob on the toilet before allowing Cole to support some of his weight since his legs were still shaking before speaking.

"Take me to Lloyd."

•••

Lloyd winced as Nya wiped at the cut on the side of his cheek.

While most of his injuries were from his fight with Chen, that one had occurred when the jet crashed into the basement and the staff hit him across the face as it flew out of Kai's hand.

Although, if he was being completely honest, he didn't remember much of the whole situation.

•••

Lloyd winced as he was pulled to his feet by two of the lackies who kept referring to themselves as Kapow and Chop, his side throbbing horrendously from his fight with Chen.

Despite trying to fight back, he was weak both physically and emotionally, not to mention the vengestone keeping his hands behind his back.

As he was forced down the halls and the echoes of the large serpent hit his ears, he fought back the tears that wanted to stream down his face.

'How could Kai do this? How could he hurt the team like this?' He tried to push back the selfish thought of 'how could he hurt me like this?' and tried to replace it with 'how could he do this to Nya?' but he couldn't do it.

As the chanting grew louder, he tried one more time to break out of the two men's hold, but one just kicked him in the leg, forcing him forward into the large room all four of them had snuck into on their first night here.

But Cole and Jay were nowhere to be seen, and as he looked at Chen, Clouse and Skylor who were surrounded by guards, he swallowed harshly, seeing Kai standing next to them.

The chanting rang in his ears as he was forced to kneel, the vengestone quickly being replaced by two giant chains attached to the floor.

He looked up as footsteps approached, seeing Kai grow nearer; the sadness and fury consumed him as he demanded, his voice thick with tears. "Why would you help them?"

"Don't worry," Kai insisted in a hushed tone, but as Clouse approached, he raised his voice, "it won't hurt. Much." Before walking away from him with a cackle, the chanting stopped altogether.

Lloyd watched as Skylor offered herself willingly to the spell, a pit growing in his stomach as she cried out in agony.

He had to shut his eyes.

But the cries stopped shortly afterwards and he opened his eyes, only to see Chen approaching him with a wicked grin on his face and his stomach dropped in fear.

"And now for the final element," the staff was pointed towards him and out of the corner of his eye, Lloyd saw Kai turn away, "only one can remain."

The white light surrounded him, and he was immediately hit with a searing pain in his chest that sent him to his knees before forcing a scream from his throat.

It was over fairly quickly, but he collapsed onto his hands and knees, trying to regain his breath as his body, now weaker than ever and heaved harshly.

•••

"Alright, that's the last injury," Nya announced, bringing Lloyd out of his thought process to see a joking smile on her face, "unless you're hiding something from me."

"No, you got everything. Thank you." Lloyd smiled softly, receiving a hand in his hair and he couldn't hold back his laughter because of just how normal that was.

"I'm gonna go help them find Chen, but your dad is right outside if you need anything. Get some rest."

Lloyd nodded, watching as Nya exited the room before laying down on his back, biting back the sharpness of the bruising from where he was thrown by Chen with his own abilities directly into the leaderboard.

The pain dulled out enough for him to close his eyes and try to let sleep take him when the door opened and two sets of slow footsteps approached him.

He couldn't stop from flinching due to the sting as a hand gently touched his burned wrist, but he instantly regretted it when he heard the voice. "Lloyd? Are you awake?"

'Kai'

Lloyd opened his eyes, blinking away the blurriness to see Cole and Kai standing over him. "Yeah, I'm awake," he noticed the guilty look on Kai's face, as well as the paleness, "you okay?"

"I should be the one asking you that."

"I will be," Lloyd nodded, getting a good look at Kai's face and already knowing that if he was gonna get any information out of him, they needed to be alone, "Cole, can you-"

"Yeah, I need to talk to your dad anyways," Cole smiled, winking to ensure he got the hint before making his way out of the room.

The door barely closed before Kai spoke up, "Lloyd, I am so sorry about all of this."

"You did what you thought was best, I can't blame-" Lloyd started, but he was cut off quickly.

"I meant the staff."

'Oh'

"Kai, that wasn't your fault-"

"I could have killed you!" Kai shouted, cutting Lloyd off again, "I could've killed you and Skylor, I said things to you that I haven't believed in years!" He had tears coming down his face now even though his cheeks were still red with frustration, "I hurt Skylor, I hurt Nya… I hurt you."

Lloyd wasn't thinking when he wrapped his arms around him, all he knew in that moment was that he needed Kai to stop crying, to stop feeling so bad for something that wasn't even his fault.

He felt hot tears soaking his shoulder as Kai's body shook against him, like he had been holding this in for a long time. 'How do I make him see that it isn't his fault?'

•••

Garmadon wasn't sure what he was expecting when Kai came out of the small room that his son was currently residing in while he recovered.

He definitely wasn't expecting him to come out with tears in his eyes and bright red cheeks though.

"Kai, are you alright?" He asked softly, in order to avoid startling the obviously in distress teenager.

"Yeah," he stopped to wipe his face on his sleeve, "yeah, I'm okay?"

Garmadon raised an eyebrow before motioning him closer. "Take a walk with me, Kai."

"No, you need to stay with Lloyd-"

"Just down the hall and back," Garmadon didn't like the idea of leaving his son, but he also knew that the majority of the elemental masters were nearby, and if there was an emergency, they would be informed before anything could happen to Lloyd, "Lloyd will be fine."

Kai relented after that and the two of them started walking at a steady pace with only the silence lingering in between them.

"You know, Kai," Garmadon spoke softly, watching as the fire elemental's gaze met his, "when I was bitten, I did a lot of things that I didn't have control over. I became corrupted and hurt a lot of people I care about. My brother, my wife, you four ninja, even Lloyd."

Garmadon heard Kai's breath hitch and saw a few tears forming in his eyes. "But after my son saved me, you all forgave me even though I didn't feel as though I deserved it. I still don't know how all of you did that so easily."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, it took me awhile to forgive you for all of that." Kai said in a joking tone, even if his voice was thick from crying and the tear stains on his cheeks were becoming fresh again.

Garmadon shot him a soft smile before continuing, "there are things in this world that we cannot control, things that have to balance out. Although it takes time to heal from those things, to forgive ourselves for those things, that doesn't mean we can't let others forgive us for them and to give us a second chance."

Kai wiped his face on his sleeve again and Garmadon put his hand on his shoulder, feeling his body shake under his touch.

"You don't have to forgive yourself right away from what happened with the corruption from the staff. In fact, I wouldn't expect you to do so. But letting the others in, letting them give you a second chance… It's a good place to start."

Kai nodded, tears rushing down his cheeks at full speed now, "I'll do that."

"Good man," Garmadon smiled as the two of them turned to make their way back down the hall, "and if you need someone to talk to about this again, my door is always open."

"You don't have to-"

"I'll have none of that," Garmadon shook his head, "You will come to me if you need someone to talk to about this again."

"Is that an order?" Kai smiled, the tears finally starting to slow and his mood was clearly starting to brighten, given that his sass was coming back.

"Yes, it is." Garmadon nodded, seeing that he had accomplished what he set out to do, "do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sensei Garmadon." Kai winked as the two stopped in front of the door, his demeanor growing serious again, "I'm gonna go help them find Chen."

"Very well." Garmadon smiled, watching as Kai pulled his hood over his head before running to join the others outside.

#Ninjago #lego ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #sensei garmadon #nya ninjago #ninjago skylor #kai angst #angst #hurt/comfort #takes place after the forgotten element #but also is slightly altered so Kai had blasted lloyd and skylor before the others came in with the roto jet #tournement of elements #kai and garmadon solidarity #emeto cw #emeto tw #its not that graphic but i know it can be triggering for some

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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I am briefly pausing my normal RWBY content to talk about something completely different: Kang Soo-Jin.

I binged True Beauty recently. As in, “I haven’t managed to watch anything new in half a year, discovered this drama, and promptly marathoned 14+ hours of content,” so to say I’m enjoying it is an understatement. I might do another post sometime about why I think the show works so well, but for now, like many (drama only) viewers, I’m specifically grappling with Soo-Jin’s descent into antagonist territory. At first I was just as shocked and disappointed as others seem to be, but upon reflection I don’t think this is badly written in the way many fans are claiming. To frame this as, “I can’t believe they would make wonderful Soo-Jin suddenly OOC and bully Ju-Kyung over a guy!” is ignoring core parts of her character. I’m as sick of the girl-hates-girl-over-guy plotline as the next viewer, but in the interest of acknowledging that there are exceptions to every rule, I think this is one of the times where that choice makes perfect sense.

Soo-Jin has been abused throughout her life and I’m not simply talking about the fact that her father hits her. Though that’s obviously horrific, what I think is more pertinent to this conversation is the intense competitiveness her parents have instilled in her. The physical abuse comes about because Soo-Jin fails (in their eyes) to be the best, which is where Ju-Kyung comes in. The Soo-Jin we knew in earlier episodes wasn’t faking. She isn’t an inherently evil person who was just waiting for the right time to show her true colors. Rather, at the start of the story Ju-Kyung—crucially—was not in competition with Soo-Jin. Or rather, Soo-Jin did not perceive her as competition. She’s after the best grades in the school and Ju-Kyung is notoriously at the bottom of the class. All she has going for her are her (new) looks and her easy-going personality that makes her popular, two things that Soo-Jin isn’t interested in. Even if she were, those things already come naturally to her too. She’s already friends with Soo-A and, as is commented on multiple times, naturally beautiful without any makeup on. Soo-Jin has been taught—literally had it beaten into her—that she must be the best and in the beginning of the show she pretty much is: popular, mature, confident, smart… just not the smartest in her class. Ju-Kyung doesn’t threaten any of that, so friendship initially comes easily for Soo-Jin, the sort of friendship that allows her to chase perverts off busses or hide her friend’s real face.

This changes once Soo-Jin’s “perfect” mask begins to slip. They’re heading towards college, she’s running out of time, and she still hasn’t managed to take the top spot in the class. Worse, she drops out of the top ten. This exacerbates the abuse to the point where, as we see, she’s constantly in the bathroom trying to cope by washing her hands. Any tiny deviation from that “perfection” — like, say, leaving your tutoring session when you realize your lifelong friend just got devastating news — results in the sort of yelling/physical abuse she can only escape from via a locked door. While things get worse on her end, they get better on Ju-Jyung’s. Her grades go up some and she becomes even more popular, attracting not only school-wide attention, but the attention of the two hottest guys too, including Soo-Ho. For a while this is still fine from Soo-Jin’s perspective, but things really take a turn when Ju-Kyung changes Soo-Ho. Meaning, she helps him come out of his shell and teaches him how to be a kinder person… which includes being a better friend to Soo-Jin. The Soo-Ho who suddenly lies and announces that they have to go study just to get Soo-Jin away from her father’s insults, all of it stemming from a small tick he paid attention to, or comforting her while she sobs over the abuse… that Soo-Ho didn’t exist at the story’s start. He was too wrapped up in his own grief and has been that way for a long time. They may have known each other since childhood, but Soo-Jin and Soo-Ho don’t appear to be particularly close in the past—all Soo-Ho’s flashbacks are with Seo-Joon and Se-Yeon. But that starts to change once Soo-Ho himself changes. Soo-Jin’s ability to keep it together is unraveling, Soo-Ho is opening up and becoming more emotionally available (something Soo-Jin even comments on), then her whole class starts eagerly talking up how good they would be as a couple… so Soo-Jin sees a lifeline. Soo-Ho will care for her even when no one else will. Of course he will. She’s already seen him be that person multiple times.

The problem is that Soo-Ho has his own life and his own problems to grapple with. Between grief over See-Yeon, panic over telling Ju-Kyung how he feels, and the initial rush of dating—what couple doesn’t want to spend all their time together at the start?—he doesn’t have much energy for Soo-Jin. Which from his perspective is fine. They don’t normally hang out together outside of study groups, so yeah, he can put off a conversation with her… not realizing that Soo-Jin is now putting all her emotional eggs in his basket. By the time her feelings are coming to light, Soo-Jin is actively sabotaging her own attempts to get attention and compassion from Soo-Jin. By manipulating them—here’s a new scrunchy to remind you that you’re my best friend and you can’t ever betray me, here I am showing up unannounced at your apartment and guilting you into not spending more time with me, etc.—Soo-Jin has put Soo-Ho (rightfully) on his guard. He’s wary of having a private conversation with her about something she won’t name when he knows Ju-Kyung has been a mess over losing her friendship. He has no desire to listen to her confession of love after she’s just tossed Ju-Kyung’s beloved necklace into the fire. In her efforts to ensure that Soo-Ho pays attention to her, she only succeeds in driving him away.

All of which makes Ju-Kyung the enemy in her eyes. The new competition. To her mind, friendship and love cannot co-exist because Ju-Kyung stands in the way of that love, therefore one has got to go. (In contrast Seo-Joon, coming from a loving family, is in time better able to accept that he can be friends with Soo-Ho even though he likes Ju-Kyung. We can discuss the problems inherent in giving one plot to the girl and the other to the guy, but as they are, these characters have concrete, in-world reasons for their different reactions to what’s essentially the same situation.) And why does love (“love”) win out over friendship? Because Soo-Jin has latched onto Soo-Ho being her boyfriend as the way to finally “win” at life and fix all her problems. It’s fine if she’s not the best provided she’s dating the best, just look at how much Dad fawned over him. Second place academically is suddenly an option provided the top student is on her team, so to speak. The fact that Soo-Ho is also one of the most handsome, a great athlete, super rich, and one of the few people to provide her with feelings of safety certainly doesn’t hurt matters. And the only thing that stands in her way of securing this life-saving “win” is Ju-Kyung. Who is she? No one compared to Soo-Jin. Her grades are terrible. She’s not wealthy. She’s pretty… but oh, only with her makeup on.

Soo-Jin doesn’t need makeup, so why not win this competition by showing the whole school—showing Soo-Ho—what a fraud Ju-Kyung is?

From Soo-Jin’s perspective she’s done the math and come out on top. Everything that (supposedly) matters she either has equal to Ju-Kyung, or is superior, therefore it’s obvious that Soo-Ho would choose her in the end. She says at much: If I had confessed first you would have loved me first, so now that I have confessed you’ll break up with her. Hell, even Ju-Kyung believes this. She has the nightmare about Soo-Ho learning that Soo-Jin has feelings for him and immediately, publicly breaking up with her. After all, if he suddenly has both as an option the winner is obvious, right? It’s all about competition, what they’ve been taught to believe is a competition: Ju-Kyung through her bullying and Soo-Jin through her abuse. The difference is that Ju-Kyung has had the whole series with Soo-Ho (and others) helping her slowly unlearn this mentality. Soo-Jin had the rug pulled out from under her in an instant.

Soo-Ho says no, I wouldn’t have loved you if you had confessed first and I’m not going to date you now. It’s important to realize that this shatters Soo-Jin’s entire world. It’s not about a girl being upset that she can’t get the guy — not even about Soo-Ho as an individual, really — it’s about an abused girl not knowing how to grapple with the fact that she finally did everything “right” and still couldn’t “win,” coupled with losing the last bit of security she had. Soo-Ho broke the unspoken rules Soo-Jin’s father beat into her and she doesn’t know where to go from there. She literally has no one else to turn to. So she falls back on the only way she does know how to handle a situation like this: by still trying to win. If Soo-Ho won’t admit that she’s better, she’ll force him to realize that by plastering Ju-Kyung’s “ugly” face all over social media. Which, to be clear, isn’t an excuse. This isn’t meant to be a way of absolving Soo-Jin of her absolutely horrific actions, only a means of explaining them. Her descent, while shocking to those of us who loved her initial character, is well written because it’s a nuanced look at what can happen when you abuse a kid her whole life and teach her that competition is everything. Oddly enough, she’ll apply a competitive outlook to everything and deal with her stress in unhealthy ways. Ju-Kyung is a victim of Soo-Jin now, but Soo-Jin is a victim too. Her home life has ensured that she does not know how to accept failure—or what true failure even means—so it was inevitable that when things got bad, she’d try to fix it in ways that hurt both her and those around her. It’s all she knows how to do.

So far less “Perfect girl goes ooc and abandons her friend over a boy” and far more “Abused girl falls into a terrible, but predictable cycle that the other stressed high schoolers around her are not equipped to break.” Soo-Jin’s story isn’t bad writing, it’s tragic. Thanks for coming to my three page TED talk ✌️

***

2/4/21 FINALE UPDATE!

#abuse tw #true beauty #kang soojin #mymetas #true beauty spoilers

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