#I don't think of as strange since they're just part of my every day
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razzek · 1 year ago
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Top 5 MOST useful tools for blind people just starting out
Top 5 most fave tools for the blind overall
Top 5 least useful
Top 5 fucking weirdest and/or funniest
This is a big ask and I will do my best to answer, with the caveat that I am just a single blind person with memory issues who doesn't remember everything my blind friends have told me. XD I am counting other people as tools in this list because a person with eyes sometimes is a handy tool for us. XD
Top 5 MOST useful tools for blind people just starting out 1. White cane 2. Blindness skills training through centers, government programs like Vocational Rehabilitation, Orientation & Mobility specialists, and anywhere you can find it 3. Membership with the National Talking Book Library aka NLS in your state (US); I think the UK is RNIB and Canada has one, not sure about other countries 4. Supportive family and friends and other blind people if you can find them 5. Screen reader (NVDA is free for Windows, iPhone has VoiceOver, Android uses TalkBack)
Top 5 most fave tools for the blind overall 1. White cane and/or guide dog 2. Text to speech, screen readers, audio books, audio described movies and tv 3. Accessible smart phones (often iPhone but Android is catching up) 4. Bump dots (stick-on tactile dots you put around your home) 5. Braille and refreshable braille displays/notetakers
Top 5 least useful 1. Sighted people inventing crap without talking to any blind people ("smart" canes, "smart" shoes, dangerous devices you hold in your only free hand that claim to tell you what's in front of you but actually don't, screen reader breaking "accessibility" overlays, etc...) 2. That ring which only shows one braille cell at a time (that's not how anyone reads) 3. Strangers giving/yelling vague directions ("It's right over there!", "Oh my god watch out for the stairs (that you are halfway down)!", giving directions to the guide dog who doesn't speak English or any language because they are a dog...) 4. Hot liquid measuring devices (always broken, the noise they make is so fucking loud it's caused me a lot more injury than just sticking my finger in the hot liquid, will wake up the neighbors) 5. All but one use case of AI claiming to be for the blind, at least as far as I've seen
Top 5 fucking weirdest and/or funniest 1. Ping pong balls (good for measuring hot liquids) 2. Funnels (really helpful for pouring liquids) 3. The lanyard strap that sticks to the back of your phone so you can wear it around your neck (looks silly, is incredibly useful) 4. White cane holster (yes it's a thing, I have at least three XD) 5. Things being organized Very Specifically (close your eyes and YOU try to find the remote after someone put it in a random place! XD)
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dyns33 · 6 months ago
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Family protection
I missed Alfie during Flufftober, I'm not going to lie, even if it was fun
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Thomas Shelby was preoccupied.
No, if he was honest, Thomas was just as terrified and furious at that moment, hurt inside, ready to devastate everything in his path, like every time he was told that a member of his family had been targeted.
It had perhaps been a mistake on his part to believe that it was not necessary to monitor Y/N after her marriage. Solomons' men took care of that.
So, when John had called him in a panic, saying that there were rumors about the kidnapping, or even the murder of their sister, he had at first remained frozen at his desk.
Since Polly had brought her back, this little girl from another mother, also abandoned by their fucking so called father, he had loved her. Maybe even more than the others.
The child was adorable. Shy at first, then smiling, with a crystal-clear laugh, asking for cuddles from her brothers, playing with dolls with her sister, and always wanting to be with them.
Normally, boys didn't accept the presence of girls. Poor Ada knew something about that. But strangely, with Y/N, it was different. Neither he, nor John, nor Arthur, could refuse her anything.
She came with them in the streets, in the countryside, in the trees. There were some limits of course, but he had shown her how to climb, jump, run. How to defend herself, if one strange day they weren't there.
Thomas confided things to her and her only when they were alone. The times he slept in the fields, she came to join him. That was often what pushed him to come home, because he didn't want her to catch her death. She stayed there, glued to him without saying anything, respecting his silence like no other member of his family, and for that, he ended up talking to her.
It was a false secret, that Y/N was his favorite. A secret that didn't bother anyone, since she was everyone's favorite.
So Thomas Shelby was preoccupied, because it was said that something had happened to his little sister, without anyone being able to clearly say what.
"She was in a bookstore." Arthur mumbled. "She goes there several times a month, to get books and read to the kids. They like it, she has a beautiful voice. After the session, she often has tea upstairs with the old owner. Men came in, beat up the employees and customers, before going upstairs. Then there was a fire. We don't know anything else."
"And Mr. Solomons ?"
"Haven't managed to reach him. His little assistant says he's… busy."
You'd think the same guys had come to Camden Town to destroy the King's Bakery. Because everything was in a pathetic state, and it was the doing of one man, who shouted orders from his office when he wasn't breaking anything that came his way.
If Thomas was preoccupied, Alfie had lost his mind.
During an important meeting with the Irish, he had let Ollie handle the business, and since the men had to be watched, it was a new kid who answered the phone.
He learned only two hours after his return that a woman had called. Not just any woman, his wife. Who was worried, because there were men in front of the bookstore, whom she didn't know.
She was smart, his wife. His tender Y/N, well raised by the Shelbys. Even if she was normally safe, she remained wary, thinking of looking behind or through the window, knowing all of her husband's employees.
The incompetents who followed her that day had been found with their throats slit in an alley.
Even though his patient was at his limit, Thomas let Alfie finish his tantrum, noting that he had left only the phone and the record player intact, which was playing opera to try to calm him down.
Y/N had disappeared for four hours now. He wouldn't calm down.
"They would have called, huh ? To give their fucking instructions. Or maybe they're scared, they know that my men, the most competent this time, and yours, are all over town, and that as soon as we know who did this, they'll be dead. But… If they don't have her… Tommy, if they don't have her, if she's in that still smoking pile of ashes… I'll burn everything."
"Arthur and John are going to find her."
"Yeah, huh ? You can sense it with your gypsy powers ? Your witch aunt read the cards and saw that my Y/N was healthy ?"
"Not now, Alfie."
Solomons growled, turning his office chair in anger and slamming it against the floor until it was all crumbs. It was only because it was his wife's family that he was acceptinf Thomas' presence.
And for his part, even though he wanted to blow his head off for not protecting his sister properly, Tommy sat there smoking his cigarette, remembering how it had felt to hold Grace in his arms.
When the phone rang, he stared at it for a moment, before looking at Alfie, frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. He wondered if he hadn't heard, before realizing that the wandering Jew was afraid to answer.
It might have been the famous ransom demand, which would teach them that a lot of harm had been done to Y/N, and much more would come if they didn't do what the kidnappers wanted.
It might also have been the coroner, who had finished putting names on the bodies following the fire.
Slowly, Thomas put down his cigarette, before answering.
"… Tommy ?"
"… Y/N ?"
"Give me that !" ordered Alfie who immediately came back to life, snatching the phone from him before finding a softer voice. "Treacle ? Love ? Are you okay ? Where are you ?"
It turned out that despite the lack of practice, taking young Y/N into the woods to teach her how to climb, jump, play tightrope walkers and hide, had been a good thing.
Realizing that something was happening and since her husband was not reachable, she had climbed through the upstairs window on the courtyard side, hoisting herself up onto the roof, until she found a secluded spot to climb down.
Then, not knowing who to trust, she had stayed hidden until nightfall, to go to the closest and safest place from her position, which was her sister's house.
"Faster, Ismael !"
Thomas could have muttered that it would be better to get to Ada's alive, but he only clung to the door handle while the driver obeyed Mr. Solomons without worrying about pedestrians or other cars.
It was also useless to stop Alfie from jumping onto the sidewalk, forgetting his cane in the car to go and bang on the door like a madman until someone opened it.
Calm only returned when he laid eyes on Y/N, settled in the living room and already surrounded by all the other Shelbys who had been called after them.
"Treacle. Forgive me." he sobbed as he threw himself at her knees, his arms around her and his head against her stomach. "I was so worried, love, I thought I was going to die."
"Oh, Alfie. I'm sorry, I wanted to call you before but I didn't have access to a phone."
"I'm the worst husband. I didn't protect you. If my men weren't dead, I'd slit their throats myself."
"Let's try to talk about something happier." Thomas coughed as he approached, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder who smiled at him. "Did you hurt yourself jumping off the roof ?"
"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"Strange clothes."
"Yes, love. You weren't wearing that this morning."
"Oh, I…" Y/N said, visibly embarrassed. "I may have "borrowed" a disguise. And money. And a car."
"She's our lil sis !" Arthur declared proudly, oblivious to the dark looks from his aunt, sister, brothers, and brother-in-law.
Maybe they had also shown young Y/N how to steal, but only once or twice, for fun, telling her that it was wrong, and that she would never need to do that because they would take care of her.
Alfie mumbled in Hebrew, which made her laugh. Probably insults without malice. He only let go of her to allow the others to kiss her before he took her back to their home, returning worse than a leech at the first opportunity.
When he proposed to add some of his men to Solomons' for her next outings, the king of Candem was at first outraged. He didn't bark only because his wife had already experienced a lot of emotions, but he would not let Thomas humiliate him.
However, in the middle of the night, certainly when Y/N was sleeping, Solomons contacted him.
"How many men, and what price ?"
"I'm the one who feels insulted now, Alfie. She's my sister, that will be the necessary number and for nothing at all."
"Hmm… You know, they all have something to say about you, your siblings. All of them, while you take care of them. I know it, I see it, but they are never happy. But not Y/N. No, my treacle has nothing but compliments for her big brothers, and you the first. Tommy this, Tommy that. She adores you."
"I adore her too."
"Hmm. Not as much as me, and so there will be fewer men than mine, but… I accept the offer."
"Glad we almost agree on something, Mr. Solomons."
He did not sleep that night, because Thomas Shelby was a preoccupied man by nature. By business, by his family, by the future and the past.
But as for his favorite little sister, he could have slept peacefully, knowing that her husband was there to ensure her happiness and protection as he had sworn during their marriage.
And if something were to happen, they would join forces, then Thomas would probably kill Alfie to punish him, if the madman didn't kill himself first to join Y/N whom he loved at least as much as her brother loved her.
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heli-writes · 1 year ago
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A dragon's heart, part 10.
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of forceful behaviour towards women, bad family dynamics
[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]
Note: Sorry, folks! No smut yet, I need some more time to build up the right moment!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11
Series Masterlist
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's silly to cry about this, isn't it? No, yeah, it's definitely not silly.
Y/n rubs her eyes. She's standing lost in the abandoned tent in the middle of the pieces of Katsuki's tantrum. Slowly, she starts picking up the things Katsuki has thrown across the room.
It will be alright. You can trust Katsuki. Whatever happened today, it's not your fault and Katsuki knows that. He might get irritated easily but he's not unreasonable.
When y/n is done picking up the pieces of the destroyed chair, she's unsure what to do next. She decides to scrub off the paint in the stone hut. There's only cold water this time but y/n grinds her teeth and scrubs it all off. Afterward, she feels a little bit like herself again.
Back in the tent, she loses the clothes as well. She looks for her dress but she can't find it. This upsets her more than it should. After all, it's just a piece of fabric, she tells herself. Then again, it was her mother's dress. The last thing that connected her with her people.
My bag!, she thinks and looks for it where she dropped it the night before. She finds it next to the bed. She dumps the contents on the bed and looks at the things she's brought along. She takes the small knife and strokes over the carvings in the wooden handle. Her father made it for her for her twelfth birthday. He wanted to paint it one day, but he passed before he ever got the chance.
She remembers her father. He was a kind but firm man. He believed in the way of their people. Y/n remembers how he used to take her and her brother to a meadow in the middle of a summer night. He showed the kids how the fireflies light up when you run through the grass. He dared them to catch one and when they did, he explained to them how every creature was created by the great being of things and therefore should be treated with respect. He made y/n let go of the fireflight she caught and they watched as it disappeared into the night sky.
Y/n clutches the knife. She didn't notice how tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she brushes them away. She shakes her head. Thinking about this, won't change the present. Carefully, she places the things back into her bag and hides it beneath the bed, so that they won't be taken away again like her dress.
She slips out of the skimpy clothes she was put into this morning and puts on the clothes Katsuki gave her yesterday. Also, she wraps a blanket around her since she's planning to go outside. I'm going to look for Katsuki, she determines.
~*~*~*~*~
It's strange walking around the village without Katsuki by her side. Y/n feels a lot more vulnerable without him. Again, there are only men outside the tents and they give her strange looks. She's sure they are talking about her, too.
She tries to shake the thought off when she slips in between two tents to get out of sight. Suddenly, a cold hand grabs her arm.
„A-are you new? When did they bring you in?“, a scared female voice says next to her.
Y/n feels instant relief. Finally, someone who understands her! And a woman too! She turns around to the voice and is instantly stunned.
There's a woman standing at the entrance of a tent. She's about y/n's height. The woman is pale as if she barely sees the sunlight. She looks sickish in a haggard way. Her state is nothing but alarming to y/n.
„Yes, I am. I just arrived yesterday. Are-“, y/n tells her and before y/n can ask her if she's alright, the woman's grip on her arm tightens.
„Did he do it already? The man that took you? Is he near? Is he looking for you?“, the woman asks frantically. There is fear in her eyes.
„Uhm, what do you mean?“, y/n replies uncertainly.
„You need to get away!“, the woman tells her, now grabbing both of y/n's arms. „If he hasn't taken you, you might still have a chance!“
The woman's eyes are ripped open widely and y/n can see how bloodshot they are. She mustn't have slept for days. Y/n tries to wiggle out of the woman's hold.
„I-i'm fine. Thanks for your concern, but-“, y/n tries to shake her off.
„Nadia!“, a voice barks from the side y/n came from. A big, bulky man walks their way. His face looks angry. He continues to speak loudly in his language. The woman winces and lets go of y/n. She quickly retreats back into the tent, leaving y/n alone outside.
The man gives y/n a glance before disappearing into the tent. His loud voice can be heard in the inside. By the tone of his voice, he must be scolding the woman. Y/n isn't sure if that's her cue to disappear like the woman said.
Eventually, the man comes back outside. He doesn't look as angry as before anymore. He says something to y/n that she doesn't understand.
„U-uhm, I'm a friend of Katsuki, I guess. Do you know where he is?“, she asks him and the man looks annoyed. He throws his arms into the air in frustration and rambles something to himself.
Y/n straightens her posture a bit at tells him in a determined voice: „Katsuki“.
The man gives her an uncertain look. Then he grabs her shoulder and makes a gesture to follow him. Y/n does so. The man drags her through half of the village, stopping here and there to talk to people. Y/n can hear the word „Katsuki“ quite often, so she guesses he is asking around where Katsuki is. Eventually, the man makes her walk quite a while outside of the settlement and y/n starts doubting her decision to follow him. What if the woman was right? What if that guy really has something bad on his mind?
The man leads her into a small gorge. Y/n can see how smoke rises from the inside, so she guesses humans must be there as well.
Turns out her guess was kind of wrong. The deeper they get into the gorge, the more clearly it becomes what lives her: dragons. When the first comes into sight, y/n walks a bit closer to the man in front of her. More and more dragons come into sight. Golden ones, blue ones, green ones. Y/n thinks the deep black ones look the scariest. She tries to avoid eye contact with all of them. Also, she wonders if Katsuki's great red one is here. Actually, she'd be really relieved to see the great red one again right now. At least one familiar face, or snout, around here.
The man leads her all the way in, where a small fire is lit. More men sit around it drinking and laughing.
The men cheer and gesture for the man to join him but he declines with a wave of his hand. He says something to them and y/n hears Katsuki's name again. She peeks behind the man and sees Katsuki sitting among the men around the fire. When Katsuki spots her, he immediately gets up.
Katsuki exchanges a few words with the man before said man turns around to leave. Katsuki grabs her shoulder and gives her an angry look. Seems as if he's not too happy that I'm here, y/n thinks.
The men laugh and say something to Katsuki to which he gives them a snarky reply. Katsuki leads her to the fire and motions for her to sit down. Y/n does so and wraps the blanket around her a little bit more tight. The man called Kirishima asks Katsuki something and points at y/n. Katsuki shrugs indifferently.
Kirishima fills a mug with something that's been brewing over the fire and hands the mug to y/n. Y/n takes a sniff. It's definitely alcohool. She takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised.
„Mead!“ she exclaims. The men cheer and raise their cups to her. Y/n does so too and takes another sip. The mead is sweet and rich in her mouth.
Kirishima laughs and says something to her. Y/n smiles. Somehow, this feels comfortable. Like when her people sat around the fire at night drinking some hot mead to keep warm. It's the time when stories and memories are shared. Y/n decides there's no harm in sharing a memory of her own, even if these strange men won't understand her.
„You know“, she tells Kirishima, „My aunt used to make mead together with my father“. Kirishima takes another sip from his cup while listening.
„Of course, you need honey for that.“, y/n continues, „So my aunt and my dad went to the woods to find wild honey for their mead. Unfortunately for them, there also was a bear looking for honey too. When my aunt saw the bear, she screamed so loudly that even the bear was frightened, and in his shock, the bear knocked down the bee nest. Of course, the bee attacked my aunt and my dad and they ran home to our camp, screaming the entire way. I've never heard my father scream like that. Like a little girl.“
Y/n is giggling at the end of the story and has to wipe the side of her eye. When she's done, she notices that the rest of the men fell silent and were watching her intently. Suddenly, she's a bit embarrassed for rambling out a story like that.
„Anyways“, she says and raises her cup, „Cheers!“. Quickly she takes another sip and the men start laughing. Y/n feels incredibly embarrassed. A few of the men clap Katsuki's back who also looks embarrassed. Y/n lowers her head. She didn't want to embarrass Katsuki with her stupid story.
Suddenly, she feels Katsuki slide closer to her. He puts an arm around her tucking her safely into his side. Y/n peers up at him. He keeps his eyes fixed on his peers and y/n snuggles a bit deeper into his side. At least he doesn't seem mad now anymore. She keeps slurping her mead until it's empty. Also, she surely feels the buzz. This mead is a lot stronger than the one her aunt and father brewed.
She watches Katsuki for a while who also seems to be done with his cup. Eventually, she pulls at one of his necklaces trying to get his attention. Katsuki lets go of her and looks down at her. He mumbles something which y/n guess is something like a „what?“. She should write that word down later.
„Where's your dragon?“, she asks him. When Katsuki's brows only furrow, she points at a dragon and says „Dragon?“ and then points at him. It seems as if a light goes up in Katsuki's head. He says something to his men and then gets up taking y/n's hand. They leave the fire together and Katsuki leads her to a cave entrance. He gestures for her to stay behind him and y/n does as she's told. The last thing she wants is to wake up an angry dragon. She peeks behind Katsuki and sees the enormous form of the great red right in front of them. Katsuki gestures for her to step beside him.
„Drami“, Katsuki tells her and y/n looks at him uncertainly. Is that the word for dragon in his language?
„Drami.“, y/n repeats and the great red raises its head. Y/n watches with wide eyes how the dragon moves its big head and nudges Katsuki.
„Oi!“, Katsuki exclaims and tries to push the dragon away. Y/n has to giggle at the sight. Is this how she looks when she tries to push Katsuki away but he doesn't move at all?
The great red notices her as well and moves towards her. Fear strikes her even though she knows that the beast probably won't hurt her. The dragon nudges her as well but in contrast to Katsuki, y/n wasn't prepared for the force of the nudge. She stumbles and falls over. There's a grumbling sound in the dragon's throat and she's sure the beast is laughing at her.
„Hey!“, she complaints and sits up.
Suddenly, there are whistling sounds in the air. Then, y/n gets attacked by all sides. Little dragons nudges her from all sides. Pulling on her blanket and hair. It's not painful and when the first shock wears off, y/n has to laugh and she tries to push the little dragon off of her. When she looks up, her eyes meet Katsuki's who have a mischievous gleam in it. He laughs at her and y/n sticks out her tongue to him while fending off the lizards around her.
There's a deeper grumble in the air and the dragons let go off y/n. They rush back to the great red. The small ones have the same color as the great red and when they climb onto it, they become invisible. No wonder y/n didn't spot them before. Katsuki chuckles and helps her up.
„That was rude.“, y/n tells him and tries to rearrange her messy hair. Katsuki picks up the blanket and puts it around y/n's shoulders again. He ruffles her hair and says something to the great red. He gestures for y/n to follow him.
„Bye, Drami!“, y/n tells the great red and quickly follows Katsuki outside.
~*~*~*~*~
After Katsuki says goodbye to his men, he walks back to the village with y/n. She looks ridiculous, he thinks. She lost the nice clothes picked out for her and instead carries this ratched blanket around with her. Is she really that cold? Katsuki and his men walk around shirtless half of the time and even the women in his tribe wear more revealing clothes than the women from the kingdom. It makes him wonder if his mother might be right about y/n.
They walk back in silence and Katsuki notices how uncomfortable y/n feels. He can't blame her. She probably hasn't got a clue about what happened earlier today. He wants to feel sorry for her but can't find it in him to do so. She should man up a bit, he thinks to himself. Otherwise, she will never be accepted around here.
Doubt gnaws at the inside of his mind. He's been replaying the conversation with his mother again and again. The truth is that Mitsuki's right. Y/n isn't strong enough for his people. Physically and probably also mentally. She doesn't fit in. Hell, she doesn't even speak their language. Fine, that's something that can be tackled. Actually, Katsuki already decided that he'll send for Deku. That damn scholar can make himself useful and teach y/n their language.
And yet, Katsuki knows that he needs a strong mate by his side. One that stands strongly and proudly next to him as the leader of his people. Having a weak mate and weak offspring does not help his position. In contrast, it might give people a reason to doubt him. And who knows what the future holds.
So far the king Todoroki turned a blind eye to the dragonblood tribe's raid on his grounds. It's easier to let them take a few women than to fight his men. But how long will that go well? Katsuki already got the news that the king is stocking up his army. His tribe can handle a few strikes of retaliation. However, if it escalates to a full-blown war things look differently. The plague already decimated their numbers and with almost no women in the tribe to even out the number, the future looks grim.
His men did little to cheer him up. While they tried to support his choice, they also gave insight into their own homes. Comparing y/n to the few women they've brought home and mated. Denki's mate passed only after a few months. She lost weight rapidly after arriving in the village and one nasty cold later, the woman completely withered away. Not enough time to give him an heir. Kirishima's position is not rosy either. While his mate is still alive, the woman is terrified of him and that even though Kirishima is probably the softest of the bunch. The other men urge him to just take her since the tribe needs children and that's what the women are brought in for but Kirishima is too kind of a man to touch her against her will.
Kirishima doesn't speak it out loud but Katsuki knows how disgusted the man felt about himself after he mated her for the first time. Other men are not as docile as Kirishima. They take their new mates as they see fit. They think that if their new mate doesn't find it in themselves to accommodate the situation, at least they can submit to them and fulfill their duty as a mate.
Katsuki is so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice how they arrived back at his tent. Only when y/n stops walking, he looks up. One of his mother's ladies-in-waiting is standing in front of his tent.
„Your mother wishes to speak to you. She's inside.“, the woman informs him. Katsuki gives her a nod and puts a hand on y/n's lower back pushing her inside.
„What do you want?“, Katsuki asks his mother upon entering the tent. His mother sits on the remaining chair with her arms and legs crossed.
„Did you mate her yet?“, she poses a counterquestion.
„Obviously not.“, Katsuki tells her. He gives y/n a side-eye and he notices how tense the smaller woman got. Clearly, she must fear his mother by now.
His mother rubs her temple.
„Katsuki, I didn't mean to upset you earlier.“, his mother states. Katsuki lets go of y/n and sits down on one of the trunks.
„I know that.“, he mumbles.
Mitsuki watches as her son uses a knife to scratch off dirt from the underside of his shoe. Meanwhile, y/n stands at the entrance of the room feeling absolutely lost. She feels like she shouldn't be here for this conversation. She tries to make eye contact with Katsuki who keeps his focus on his shoes. Mitsuki sighs loudly making y/n flinch.
„Katsuki, I'm glad you want to take on a mate. I've been afraid you'd refuse one completely. I'm just worried about your future, our future.“, Mitsuki points out. Her voice isn't exactly soft but probably as soft as the former chief can be.
Katsuki stabs the trunk with his knife.
„Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm worried, too?“, he barks at her.
Mitsuki gives her son a pointed look.
„I know you are. Which is more the reason why I don't understand... this.“, Mitsuki says and vaguely gestures towards y/n as if she's a piece of furniture rather than a real person standing in the room.
Looking back at it, y/n doesn't know why that was the reason to get her angry but it does. Y/n decides then and there that she doesn't like the woman who clearly is related to Katsuki. Why does she always pretend like I'm not there, y/n thinks. It makes her angry. It's rude. Also, y/n is pretty sure that his woman has nothing nice to say about her.
Katsuki looks at his mother annoyedly.
„What do you want me to say? I've chosen her. Don't you trust my reasons?“, he tells her.
„Do you trust your reasons? Because if you had, wouldn't you have mated her by now?“, Mitsuki strikes back.
Katsuki feels more and more irritated by each passing second.
„That's none of your business. Or do you also plan to check how often I fuck my mate?“, he bites back.
Mitsuki gives him a piqued look and shakes her head in disgust.
„Seriously, Katsuki. What the hell are you thinking?“, Mitsuki asks him.
Katsuki pushes himself off the trunk and ruffles his own hair roughly.
„I don't know, okay? I met her and we connected. I want her.“, he tells his mother.
„Aha, you want her. If you want her, then take her and pass her on, or let her go.“, Mitsuki replies.
Katsuki gives her an angry look.
„She's different from the other women we brought here.“, he tries to argue.
„In how far?“
Katsuki throws his arms up in the air.
„For one, she's not afraid of us or our dragons. Actually, I think Drami might like her. She's a fighter. I saw her fight a bandit with her bare hands. She can hunt, or at least read tracks to a certain degree. She can treat wounds and she picks up on things quite quickly. I'm sure that if that damn Deku teaches her, she will be speaking...“, Katsuki starts to ramble.
„Stop.“, Mitsuki says coldly and holds up a hand.
„I don't need to hear you sing praise to this woman. Nothing you said proves to me that she will be a good mate to you. You describe basic skills that everyone should have. If you think that...“, his mother continues.
„Can I say something about this?“, y/n enters the conversation. She's sick that she's forced to observe from the sidelines, especially considering that this is a conversation that's clearly about her. Y/n doesn't care that neither Katsuki nor this woman understands her. It's time to give both of them a piece of her mind.
Y/n stems her arm into her hips and points at Mitsuki.
„First of all, who do hell do you think that you are? I don't give a shit if you're their queen or something. My people believe that all humans are equals to one another. Therefore I can't stand how you talk about me pretending I'm not there. Secondly, I might not understand what you say but I'm sure you say very mean things about me. Did nobody teach you basic manners? Like seriously, at least have the decency to talk shit about me behind my back. But making me understand what you think of me without speaking my language? Wow, you must really be determined on making me feel like crap.“, y/n tells Mitsuki while holding eye contact with the woman. Mitsuki looks unpleasantly surprised by y/n's outburst.
„And now to you, mister!“, y/n says turning to Katsuki.
„You drag me all the way to your people, make me do stupid ceremonies that I don't understand and then you let his woman humiliate me in front of all of these people? And after all this, you take me back here just to throw a temper tantrum. What are you? Five? I honestly don't give a fuck about what that woman's issue is. What I do care about is how you handle it. And you're not handling it very successfully, dare I say. You're handling it like a manchild. Drinking your problems away with your buddies only to have another argument with her all over again? Seriously, I start to doubt if I made the right choice in trusting you!“, y/n gives Katsuki an earful.
Katsuki stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Y/n takes a deep breath. She straightens her posture.
„That being said, I exclude myself from this conversation.“, she tells Katsuki proudly with her head held high.
Then, she turns around and stomps outside the tent. Mitsuki stares after her just as perplexed as her son does.
Outside, y/n is fuming. This whole situation frustrates her. Because people talk and decide things over her head. Because she has no way to take any form of action. This time, she doesn't cry.
It's time to find that Nadia woman and get some more information out of her, y/n thinks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456
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[I think I can't tag anymore people, sorry! Unless anybody knows what I'm doing wrong...]
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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago
Text
Not anymore (Lando Norris)
Lando's determined to make you see where you belong
Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Part 1
The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning
From Lan
Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie
To Lan
I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!
Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.
There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.
"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.
"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.
"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".
Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.
"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".
"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".
Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.
Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".
"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.
Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.
"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.
.
"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.
"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.
"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.
"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".
Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.
He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.
Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.
The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".
"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.
The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.
"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.
"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".
You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.
"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.
"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.
"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.
.
You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.
They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.
"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.
"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.
The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.
You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.
The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.
When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.
It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.
Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.
Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.
As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.
“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.
"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.
"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.
It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.
"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.
To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.
Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.
Not made to be together.
"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.
"Is it good here now?", he offered.
"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".
"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.
He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.
"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.
"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.
"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".
“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.
There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.
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tennessoui · 19 days ago
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32. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” --- pleeeeeeease <3
of course!!
[from this list of prompts]
[5. 'are you jealous' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']
32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified'
Anakin looks torn to see him, flesh fingers flexing on the edge of the door. "Obi-Wan," he acknowledges, voice strained. "I'm not--really in the mood tonight. I'm sorry, but..."
"I'm not really in the mood either," Obi-Wan is quick to assure him, stepping forward in a calculated movement that brings him much too close to Anakin's body. He doesn't think Anakin will go so far as to close his door in Obi-Wan's face, but it's been a long day for everyone involved. Better to be safe than sorry, better to get an elbow over the door so it can't properly be closed.
Not, it's important to say, because Obi-Wan wants to fuck Anakin tonight. Or--alright, yes, a part of Obi-Wan always wants to sleep with Anakin in whatever way and form he's allowed. Having discovered two months ago that Anakin is both willing and desperate for the same sort of stress-relief that Obi-Wan has been needing since the start of the war, they've fallen into bed together more than twenty times. Almost every night of every mission they've completed together since that very first night where Obi-Wan'd almost knocked over the walls of his canvas tent pushing Anakin up against it to kiss him filthy and grimy and beautiful.
Something about what he's thinking must flash across his face because Anakin frowns at him distrustfully even as he steps aside and allows him entrance.
That look--equal parts disbelieving and skeptical--gets under Obi-Wan's skin almost more than anything else Anakin could have said. "I'm not," he snaps as he steps further into Anakin's quarters.
They're unpersonalized, the quarters of a war general rather than Anakin Skywalker, but that's to be expected. One does not make a home on a warship; not even Anakin.
Anakin gives a lopsided shrug, purposefully insouciant. His mech arm had taken a heavy hit today, a blaster bolt that would have seared through flesh had he not already lost the limb years ago. The connectivity must still be damaged. It is, all told and considering the near misses they've encountered today, an easy fix.
Obi-Wan clears his throat and cuts his eyes away from Anakin's figure, turning instead to examine the tiny room that is a perfect match for his own. "I am and always will be your master first, Anakin," he says stiffly. "And today you almost lost your padawan. Of course I came to check on you. I know intimately well how you may be feeling."
"Don't say that," Anakin says, crossing his flesh arm over his chest. The mech arm twitches again, though it doesn't move. "That's banthashit."
His response and the vehemence behind it makes Obi-Wan blink and move towards him. "I visited the medbay first," he says kindly, cupping his hand around the muscle of Anakin's bicep. "Kix says she will be out of the bacta tank first thing tomorrow, back to full capabilities within the week."
But Anakin's dissatisfaction does not waver, and his eyes only narrow as he moves away from Obi-Wan. "You're not my master anymore, Obi-Wan," he says instead. Spits the words out in fact.
They land like a blaster shot to the heart. "Of course I'm not," Obi-Wan hears himself say woodenly. "I--I know that you are a Jedi Knight of your own standing, I just meant---"
"I'm your equal," Anakin says, rounding on him with a strangely bright fire burning in his eyes. "I'm your equal now, and I refuse--you are not my master--I am not your padawan first. If I were, I'd have no idea what your spit felt like on my cock."
Obi-Wan blinks again at the sudden vulgarity and then understands. Anakin, who has almost lost his padawan in a firefight, who allowed his padawan into a speeder only for her to crash it into a rock ledge and almost fall to her death, is not in the mood for sweet words tonight. He is not in the mood for gentle touches or desperate sex.
He is in the mood for a fight.
But Obi-Wan has just spent an entire week fighting in a campaign that has almost ended so disastrously that he doesn't even have the words for what could have happened. He doesn't even have the heart to think them. He is tired of fighting.
He just wants to care for Anakin, on any level and in any way the other man will allow.
So he dips his head and says quietly, "Of course not, dear one, I only meant that in my time as a Jedi, I have also experienced incredible amounts of worry about my padawan being in harm's way and getting hurt because of it. Just because you are many, many things to me these days that you never were then does not mean I've forgotten how it felt to worry over you. I--"
I love you, are not words he's ever had to swallow down before, simply because he's never truly felt the urge to say them.
Except now. Except since they've started this exercise in stress relief that has given Obi-Wan a thousand new ways to learn and explore his padawan and the man he's becoming. Has become.
Thankfully, Anakin doesn't seem to notice the sudden end to his sentence, too caught up as he is in the remnants of his fear. The anger has left him as suddenly as it arrived, and he runs his working hand through his hair in futile dismay.
"I couldn't do anything to save her," he says. His voice is raw as a wound whose scab has been picked to bleed a hundred times over. "If the battle hadn't finished when it did--I wouldn't have been able to--I could do anything. What sort of master does that make me?"
Obi-Wan takes a risk and lets his hand rise to cup Anakin's cheek. The man's eyes lock to his immediately, naturally. "It makes you a master like all the rest of us," he murmurs. "You'll save her later. And in the coming days, you'll take care of her as you can. It won't make up for her pain, but there is no scorecard, truly. Eventually, you'll realize that on your own."
Anakin's eyes slide closed as he pushes his face into Obi-Wan's touch, allowing it. Obi-Wan wonders how many more months have to pass before the simple fact that Anakin allows his touch does not feel like a miracle.
"Now, may I help you ready for bed? It's late--you should wait til tomorrow to finish work on your arm."
And, miracle upon miracles, Anakin allows him to strip him, help him wash, brush his hair, dress him, and help him into bed. When he turns to leave, mission of taking care of his padawan thoroughly accomplished, Anakin's working hand reaches out and catches him around the wrist.
The plea in his eyes is silent, though loud in the first. Obi-Wan quietly disrobes himself and slides under the utility covers next to Anakin.
The boy falls asleep in minutes.
I am not your padawan first, Obi-Wan thinks privately with a silent scoff as he brushes a loose piece of hair away from Anakin's eyes.
Anakin will always be Obi-Wan's padawan first. He will always be Obi-Wan's to care for, provide for, teach and comfort. His capability to become many, many other things to Obi-Wan does not diminish that one truth.
Anakin will always be Obi-Wan's padawan first, because--because that is the one label Obi-Wan has for him that he knows he'll never lose. It is the one way that Obi-Wan knows he is allowed to care for him that Anakin will never turn away from.
No matter what other feelings about him Obi-Wan finds himself choking back and drowning in. No matter how Anakin may feel about the fact that Obi-Wan has gone and fallen in love with him despite the casual nature of their sexual encounters. One day, he may lose Anakin's attention. One day he may never again be invited to share Anakin's bed, breath, and spit.
But he will always be his former padawan, no matter how else he loves him or loses him.
"Anakin," he murmurs quietly, just to check. The boy doesn't even grumble, doesn't even twitch.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan says again, just to taste his name. Stress relief is one of the stupidest phrases in the entire galaxy, he decides. right up there with I am not your padawan first.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan whispers, sure now that the other is asleep. Sure now that he may speak the words he has swallowed for far too long. "I believe...well. I'm in love with you. It terrifies me."
Anakin is silent, sleeping soundly, his Force signature tangled around his master's--so entwined that if Obi-Wan took a measure less comfort from it, he'd be terrified by that as well.
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mehiwilldoitlater · 2 months ago
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Yandere destined one... deciding to courtnap his new obsession. I would love to see this!
(I don't write much destined one but I'm really liking his character!)
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Two young children sat in the shadow of the apricot trees, fresh and juicy fruits in their hands while they spit away the seeds, playing and laughing. Your childish laugh echoed when you were able to defeat the young one beside you.
Your innocent and naive mind never found trouble in his look, after all, how many kids could have said to be friends with a demon monkey?
"You know," you said, chewing another fruit, "my big sister is going to get married soon, and they promised me to buy me a new dress!"
His eyes narrowed; his sharp canines bit in half the apricot with one strike.
"What does marry mean?"
"It's when two people love each other a lot and they start to live together!"
"Oh…we do the same! But without new dresses…" He looked at you, his tail swirled around. "Say, would you marry me when we get older?"
You inclined your head, confused by this question.
"But you're a monkey!"
"I know! So? Do you want to?'
"…ummm…"
You bit into the apricot again, clearly questioning if you wanted to get married in the first place.
///
The open window allowed a soft breeze to enter your room. Your small figure held the doll that your father gifted you for your birthday to help you sleep, especially since, for some reason, your sleep seemed quite disturbed and erratic.
Strange noises came from your room, alarming both of your parents and the servants.
Sometime you woke up, feeling a pair of eyes watching you. Sometimes you actually saw a figure, and every time your screams woke everyone, alerting them and making them come to you in fear.
During the day, when you were able to meet him, you told him about those nightmares, fearing what was happening in the security of your own house.
"I'm sure those are just nightmares! Who could even think to hurt you?"
And you wanted to believe him, but the truth was beyond everyone's imagination.
Your parents always told you to beware of yaoguais, especially the monkey ones.
"As simile and harmless as they look, they can be conniving and prone to lying! They have an eye for treasures and beauty, and they're ready to steal!"
But a child doesn't know better, and you thought of him as a friend. You played with him, shared snacks with him, never knew that he had a treasure in his mind all of this time, and, despite the age, he had already enough courage to try and steal it.
You wanted to be brave, a brave little girl, and, instead of screaming, that night you pointed the light of your candle closer to whatever was roaming in your room.
Your eyes met the one of your friends, occupied in preparing a bag, with your staff.
When you screamed, your parents finally met who was trying to steal you. He ran away, betrayed and in fear.
You never saw him again.
///
"And what did the fortune teller say about the date?"
"The ending of the month is a good date!"
The voices of your mother and your grandmother were just background noises in your head. Looking out of the window, your eyes fall on the old apricot orchard, with the white petals falling down like snowflakes. An inch of nostalgia and fear came back to you, remembering what memories held that place. Sitting on your chair, the breeze outside the window didn't give you the chance to be part of the discussion between your family, even if you were at the center of it.
"My child is getting married! Her father acts all grumpy about the expenses, but he's just so sad to see his princess become a bride!"
It wasn't like you didn't want to get married; to be fair, it wasn't in your mind at all, and you were mostly acceptable of the event.
Your spouse, the man who insisted with all his soul to marry you, was the child that came to you after the rumor started to spread.
The girl of the monkey, a girl that had almost been taken away from her house by a demon monkey.
The child came to you, curious about why a demon should want to take away such an ugly girl like you. You didn't know if you were ugly, but you knew that you didn't want to take that offense, and so you punched him. You two became friends; he started to play with you, allowing you to finally come out from the fear of meeting the monkey again, the fear of being captured.
You forgot about that fear…Maybe it was because you wanted it to be as far away as possible that you decided to accept marrying your childhood friend, even if, more than love, you felt for him a connection like with a brother.
Well, it wasn't like you had any friends or suitors since your background…Better accept it, you thought.
While looking at the orchard, something caught your eye, a glint, something shining between the flowers and the leaves. Strange, it wasn't the right time to tend to the trees… You tried to look better, your eyes glued on the plants, when the cranky voice of your grandmother called you back.
"Child, are you listening? "
"Uh?" You looked at her, completely spaced out. She sighed, massaging her face.
"Dear Y/N, how are you planning to be a good wife if you can't even listen to your old baba?" She smiled again, caressing your face gently. "We were talking about the decorations!"
And, by being dragged back in the discussion, you failed to notice a tail moving like a snake in the trees and the glint of a sword.
///
The smell of the powder and the incense was almost intoxicating; you had to plead with your mother to let the maiden open a window to allow some fresh air to clean the room. You were in a remote area of the house; no one could ever be able to trespass there, so why bother fearing being seen?
The red silks adorned your skin like the petals of a peony, the blue gems in your hair to symbolize the ever-l'astinenza phoenix, the crystal flowers decorating your neck and ears…
You needed to look better, the gentle ray of sun illuminating your face like no candle could even. You never were someone that proud or arrogant, but this time you had to admit it to yourself: you were standing.
You gasped; the makeup on your skin gave you an aura of elegance and refinement. It was like a princess was sitting in front of that mirror.
Your mother must have noticed that a sense of pride took over her.
"Oh…oh, my baby," her voice starting to crack, holding a handkerchief to stop the tears from ruining her makeup.
"Mom, please!"You tried to calm her down, "Don't cry!'
"Forgive me, my dear," she sighed, "it's just so much for me…"
You smiled; a sigh escaped from you. She's been crying since the news of your engagement, so overwhelmed by the fact that her little girl was now becoming the bride of a fine young man. The child that was marked as the chosen by the demon was finally getting free…
You caressed her shoulder, hugging her with fondness, looking at the maid that even she couldn't contain the happiness.
"Please," you said, trying to calm your mother, "can you take Mother to take some fresh air? I can take it from here…"
She nodded, helping your mother to stand up and leading her out of the room, closing the door behind her to give you some privacy.
You turned your face back to the mirror, smiling again at your reflection on the surface.
You were getting merry; soon you would leave the house of your parents to live with the man that promised to protect you from an old nightmare…
You felt a little bad, but you cared for him, and you knew you were holding nothing but affection towards him.
He could have asked someone else, and yet he chose you. He properly courted you… Yes, it was better like this…
You yawned a little, feeling a wave of exhaustion crashing on you all of a sudden. How strange…Well, you had woken up quite early for the preparations, and you had no time to take a pause from your big day. Sitting down in silence, the sweet smell of the incense was making you quite dizzy and sleepy.
Without even acknowledging your action, you allowed your head to repose on your arm, sustained by the wood of the vanity. You didn't plan to fall asleep, only to rest your eyes a little. You promised yourself to not ruin the dress or your makeup.
Why were you so sleepy? Was always the incense of this smell? You didn't know; you felt so tired right now.
How funny, three people in a room and no one noticed a hand from the window, pouring a strange powder in the incense burner.
You were so tired; the figure slipping in your room was probably a dream.
///
"Oh my, she looks like a goddess!"
"Is she a princess, Mama?"
"Not for us for sure!"
The giggling from the monkeys was whispers in the cavern, echoing through the walls alongside the sound of water drops and the small cascades that were born from the main stream and found passages in the mountain.
The small taunts and remarks were silenced in the ears of the now-grown monkey, far too occupied in admiring your beauty, now sleeping peacefully. Not anymore the small cub that tried several times to take you away once, too small and frail to actually do it. Now he was older, stronger, and bolder; he had found no problem in holding you in his arms, like he had found no problem in slicing the throat of the young maiden and bursting like an old pumpkin the head of your own mother.
Killing the maiden? It was precociousness; he needed no one to set an alarm when he was taking you with him on the mountain cave behind the waterfall of his homeland, but with your mother…that was personal.
He had such a hate towards your parents that he swore nothing could compare to it.
He could have accepted the fact that for some mortals, taking away their own mate could be seen in not such a good light, but he was a kid! Who could blame the ignorance of the youth?!
He was able to understand that, but it was when he had come back with his father, to discussing the proposition of letting you two get marry once you were both old enough. He was even able to accept the idea of just doing it in the mortal way, acting as a human; that was nothing if the price was having you at his side forever.
"Our daughter will never be the spouse of that monster."
Since he was a child, those words were like fire branded in his mind. It was at that time that he decided that no matter the cost, having you was his real mission. No matter what the Elder said, bringing back the old Sage was just another way to prove how your parents were wrong.
He had trained a lot, you see? He had become stronger, just to protect you. He hated the fact that your parents put so many guards near your house; he even suspected that they forced you to not set a foot in your sacred haven, the apricot orchard! Where you two met, when he had proposed the first time to marry you.
You were silent that day, but you were just shy, right?
His hands caressed your rosy cheeks, your sleeping form on the mattress of thousands of flowers to help you sleep, until at least he had done what was needed to be done.
He could have stayed there for days, admiring your innocent, relaxed face, your chest rising and falling alongside your breath, in those beautiful garments made for a bride, his bride.
But he still had some jobs to do, he told himself, sighing, holding his sword to his side and his staff in his hand.
He needed to take care of your father and to that…boy.
Since the day he started pestering, how much he wanted to rip his fingernails one by one, to pluck his eyes and tongue to make him eat them, to rip his guts from his body and strangle him with them, to make him suffer in every possible way, to try to take his beloved Y/N away from. Marry him? The thought made him sick, like he could have been even at your level! Your parents were fools to accept his proposals; they did so only to keep you two apart, of course!
But that was over; today your life as newlyweds was beginning. Kissing your forehead, he saw your sleeping body move a little. He hoped you were dreaming of him because he had dreamed of you for such a long time.
And so, after another loving glance, he started marching out of the cave, ready to make some more blood spill.
@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos
@nerium-lil
@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666 @sleepingdramaqueen @whitefox2k18 @ladydoe8 @jeminiikrystal @theactualgir @birdioarts
@jssy96 @silenthopper @nezukos-number1fan
@blackknight-kai
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redclercs · 2 years ago
Text
DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
ix. i'm so sick of running as fast as i can
— the one where they painted you out to be bad (so it's okay that you're mad).
warnings: fair warning you're going to be pissed, foul language, this one has more media between text and it's a little long. 2.3k words (+articles and a very long youtube thing!!)
currently playing: it's time to go by taylor swift!
masterlist ✢ next
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By Alana Blake
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YOU read it here first, friends. #YNCHARLES is still going strong even after the mess y/n found herself in during the Spanish Grand Prix weekend.
Rumor had it that after y/n's declarations where she said 'it was not serious' and 'she was just having fun', the Monegasque heartthrob dumped her immediately. This was fueled by the fact that we didn't see any pictures of them together during such weekend.
But sources have come to the rescue, letting us all know they're not broken up! "They talk every day for hours," our source said, "Both are still trying to keep it fun but more lowkey after everyone found out about the cheating."
RELATED: Victoria Presley's top five beauty hacks.
You would think that after a partner refers to you as a 'toy', dumping them is the best course of action, but apparently that doesn't apply to Mr. Leclerc who has "nothing but good things to say about y/n".
"He's excited to see her in New York before the Canada Grand Prix, they have it all planned out since she has her apartment back." The source added.
One thing is for sure, if we see y/n at the next Grand Prix, that's the big confirmation that they are together, since they blew their Elix cover by forcing them to end the contract.
SEE ALSO:
→ Victoria Presley's inauguration after party at the Grand Havana Room, you just had to be there.
→ Taylor Swift defends y/n y/ln: ''All of you have learned nothing!"
→ Aidan Kim on Charles Leclerc: "Never heard of him until my girlfriend cheated on me"
𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!
You're seeing the top comments.
Anonymous – 4 hr ago
They're both so shameless! and charles was liking tweets saying they were friends like he could really trick us.
kollhha – 3 hr ago
I hate her, Charles dump her ass for the love of god.
adriennewells – 40 min ago
no but seriously what is it about y/n that has men brainwashed?
Anonymous – 10 min ago
They WOULD be cute together, i don't think they're dating though.
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June 10th, Los Angeles, California
You fit your life for the past months into two suitcases, and a carry on. Your room at Vic's house is messy and it feels strangely empty without your discarded shoes and dirty laundry on the floor. But it's time to go, you cannot impose your presence in this enormous house anymore. You have felt like an intruder since you started traveling to Formula 1 and coming back every week like this is your hotel and not your best friend's home.
"Are you really going back to New York?" Vic asks from behind you, voice low with sadness.
"Yes, Vic, I have to." you sigh, turning to meet her. She's dressed up in her fucsia workout gear, holding a light ring in her left hand and her phone in the right. Your flight leaves in the evening and you were hoping to have a meal with Vic before parting to the airport, but it looks like she's all booked.
"No you don't," she argues, entering the room. "Hollywood is here, y/n why do you need to go back to New York? You're an actress!"
You feel like a lot of things, except for an actress right now.
"I don't think Hollywood wants me right now, Vic," you say, going back to the unmade bed to lie down. You asked the cleaning lady if she could leave your room for last so you could finish picking your stuff up, and she agreed gently. "Plus, I really miss New York."
"y/n you haven't even visited my store, you can't go!" Vic's tone changes in octave, and it's not her whiny 'please don't do this' tone you're so used to. "I asked you for ONE favor and you're running to New York and you can't do even just that?"
"Woah, Vic, what the fuck?" you use your elbows as support to lean up and look at her. "Calm down. It's okay." you know her tantrum comes from the fact that she truly believes you could boost her beauty line sales and make her store a 'hot spot'. And it would work, for the wrong reasons. You don't want Vic being dragged down into this mess too. Mati and Charles are enough casualties.
"NO IT'S NOT!" Victoria is full-on yelling now, the light ring has been tossed aside. "I have given everything you've asked from me in the past months since your life started falling apart. I think I deserve something in return."
You ignore the bite of her words. She's angry, which is understandable to some level. She doesn't mean it, right? That she always expected something in return.
"Vic, listen, I know how important your store is to you. But I promise you, you don't want the attention I'm bringing to anyone close to me right now."
"Oh, so you're doing this for my own good now?" she scoffs, ponytail flying in the air as she turns around. "Are you fucking Charles Leclerc for his own good too? Or do men's reputations don't matter?" she spits.
You halt completely, halfway out of the mattress. "What did you say?"
"Oh, please y/n. You really want me to believe you don't want to be seen with me to 'protect me'" she throws the quotations in the air, "And yet you went on your pretty vacation with that bitch Matilde, and you talk to fucking Charles Leclerc every day!"
"Victoria, stop," your brain is a mix of anger, sadness and confusion. You’re having trouble catching up to the where the conversation is going. "That was different, Vic. In case you haven't noticed, things can't stop getting worse. My life is not good right now." You choke on the last words, because it's the first time you say such things out loud. You have never been more miserable.
Victoria scoffs yet again, and it’s a tear in your heart. She's really not backing off. "Of course your life isn't good y/n wah, wah. You have money and beauty and a pilot boyfriend, it sucks so much to be you!"
"Why are you so bothered about it? Why is Charles the main problem here?" you wipe the tears from your cheeks, scratching the skin with one of your rings. "Why the fuck are you acting like this?"
Everything was alright this morning at breakfast, when you reminded her you were leaving and your luggage was almost done. When you thanked her for taking you in and told her you could never really repay her support.
"Because you get everything you want all the time!" Victoria stomps to you, her face inches away when she stops. "You always get what you want no matter what. It didn't even matter that I said you view him as a fucking piece of meat! He still went after you."
The world moves in slow-motion as her words cascade on you. Your lungs close and your throat tightens again, and you want to fight the panic attack because you just know Victoria is not going to help you. How could she? If she's the one who betrayed you.
"How–Why–" you stutter, the hem of your shirt on your fist. You can fight this. "How could you do this to me?"
Victoria finally comes to the realization of what she let out, and covers her mouth. "y/n no– look–"
"Who told you about the ring?" your jaw is locked and you're trying not to lose focus. "How could you tell them about the ring?!"
"How could you not tell ME?! I'm your fucking best friend, you bitch!" she's raising her voice again, her surprise pushed aside because you're still fighting. "I had to find out through Aidan, months later."
The Cannes party. Of course.
You thought about asking her about it. Telling her it hurt you that she hung out so happily with Aidan when he was the reason you arrived at her house one night in February, frightened, sad, and confused. But you didn't because you trusted her. You would have trusted Victoria with your life at some point.
"It really is you, then," tears are streaming down your face again.
You feel stupid because only yesterday, in another rage-scroll through Twitter, you noticed people were already making theories about how it was Victoria who was selling information about you. And you felt so offended, how could they think your best friend would do that to you?
"How could you, Victoria? How could you make all that shit up?"
You talked to Victoria about the articles. You cried and told her you were sorry you didn’t let her in on the failed proposal, it was something you were still processing and couldn’t bring yourself to talk about, still wondering if it had been a mistake every now and then. You told her how sorry you felt to Charles because he just wanted to hang out with you—to be friends with you—and people marked him down as a home wrecker when he had nothing to do with it.
“It was definitely Mia though, wasn’t it?” She said as she rubbed your back and passed the box of tissues to you. “She always hated you, so weird. It was like she loved Aidan in a fucked up way.” Victoria even shuddered exaggeratedly, trying to make you laugh.
“Yeah I’m sure it was Mia, Aidan just won’t admit it.” You let her wipe your tears and smooth your hair down. Nobody could convince you that your ex-sister-in-law didn’t run to People and spewed shit. It was the most logical conclusion that Aidan was protecting his little sister.
This had been three days ago, she lied and made fun of you, to your face.
"So now I'm a liar? You are fucking Charles Leclerc! Or what, you expect me to believe all you do is hold hands and peck each other's cheeks?"
Again with Charles, it infuriates you.
"You told the press I'm a cheater! And I am NOT with Charles, God you're so stupid!"
"How would I know whether it's true or not? You never tell me anything anymore, do you? You don't care about me! I'm your best friend. I deserve to be your priority!"
"You deserve to rot in hell, you lying bitch." you don't even raise your voice anymore, "How could I ever love you?"
Victoria laughs, and your heart finally shatters. "I would do it again, y/n, because it's what you forced me to do."
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The apartment is a mess, and you know it's on purpose. Your clothes are everywhere, the dirt from the plants you kept on the balcony is all over the floor, the coffee table is broken and your room looks like a hurricane passed through. Your coffee maker and your Specialty coffee both lie on the floor of the kitchen, and there is a horrible smell coming from the fridge. Aidan hasn't been gone long enough for things to rot to that extent, especially because every appliance is plugged in.
You don't want to look at the rest of the house, or your belongings. All you do is lean down to pick up your Moka pot, and make time to think, but you're unable to stand straight again. It's like the pain is pulling you down. How did your life become this?
A ruined apartment, a rejected engagement and a backstabbing best friend are things that happen in the movies. You would know. This wasn't supposed to happen to you.
Crying in that ruined kitchen, holding a Moka pot like it's your greatest treasure and not some piece of trash that you will never be able to use anymore, you get angry, furious. Because this is not your life and it was never supposed to be. And it's about time you start doing something about it.
You are sick of running. Of having people question you for not 'defending' yourself when you have no reason to be attacked in the first place. Relationships die, and yours had been past its time to be buried. Saying no is not a crime. And it never will be.
Victoria had burned her own thread with you in the worst way possible because you didn't make her the only person in your life. And you had overlooked every time you felt used by her, unloved, and tossed aside. Friends can break your heart too, and Victoria had ripped yours out of your chest.
Nobody has to tell you who you are, because you know. And you are nothing of what you've let tabloids, netizens and reporters say. You cannot keep running and you cannot keep hiding, and though you wish you had understood that earlier. It's never too late to pick yourself up.
Mildred and Walter are going to be pissed, but their advice was that you remained lowkey for however long it took Hollywood to get their next big scandal. Weeks, months, years.
And you're not about to scurry away into darkness like a rat.
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FROM “JUST WATCH THIS” POSTED IN Y/N Y/LN'S YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED JUNE 12TH
[y/n,minute 01:30]: ❝...So I've finally decided to come here and tell you everything that has been happening for the past months. It's the truth, but whether you believe it is a personal choice.❞
[y/n,minute 05:56]: ❝It was a three-year dead-end relationship. You cannot, and should not, have a future with someone who laughs at your dreams, and tells you how you should behave and how to look to exalt him.❞
[y/n, minute 07:15]: ❝I said no. And I have not regret it for one second. I didn't tell anyone because I respect Aidan, although I don't think that is reciprocal by now.❞
[y/n, minute 10:01]: ❝I never cheated on him, and I know the source of those rumors. It breaks my heart to know that someone I trusted made up stuff about myself, and a part of my life that was so important to me. I am not telling you who it was, however, I will take legal action against them if the defamation continues.❞
[y/n, minute 14:54]: ❝Aidan decided to tell this person about our failed engagement, and I do not know if his intention was that this all became public. But I wish he'd been mature enough to handle it privately, like the adults we both are.❞
[y/n, minute 16:59]: ❝I started attending Formula 1 races because of an Ambassador contract I held with Elix until three days ago, when they decided to rescind it.❞
[y/n, minute 18:07]: ❝That's where I met both Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, back in April. Since they are the drivers for Ferrari, we spent a lot of time in the same place, which led to us becoming friends.❞
[y/n, minute 19:04]: ❝Charles Leclerc is my friend and we are not romantically involved, I urge you to stop making stuff up about him too. He never messed with my past relationship, we did not know each other.❞
[y/n, minute 21:55]: ❝When all of this started, I believed—naively— that it could just die down on its own. I am an actress. I was not only 'Aidan Kim's girlfiend' and I am not only his ex-girlfriend now. I am y/n y/ln.❞
[y/n, minute 23:31]: ❝I should have spoken sooner. I should have shut everything down the moment I started feel miserable and out of control. But I also know, I was being crucified so badly because I am a woman.❞
[y/n, minute 26:00]: ❝You have made me feel miserable and anxious, I have suffered from panic attacks and sleepless nights. And I'm not saying this to make you all feel bad and regretful, because the one thing you lack the most is empathy.❞
[y/n, minute 28:45]: ❝But I want you all to think that, if it had been the other way around and Aidan hadn't wanted to marry me, you would have said 'he wasn't ready' and you would have let him move on and find "The One" in peace.❞
[y/n, minute 31:35]: ❝If it was Timothee Chalamet—whom I also have a deep appreciation for—doing RomComs and nothing more, you would call it 'his specialty' and never question his talent.❞
[y/n, minute 33:17]: ❝If I was a man, this wouldn't have killed my reputation.❞
[y/n, minute 36:21]: ❝I will not remain quiet anymore while you step on me and diminish my work. I do not owe anything to Aidan Kim except for the drama the past months have brought me.❞
[y/n, minute 38:11]: ❝I'm going to focus on the future. And I am well aware this will be continue to be a topic of conversation, but I am not scared anymore. Because I know who I am and who I can count on.❞
[y/n, minute 40:12]: ❝If it weren't for my fans, who have been fighting my battles so hard, I wouldn't be here either. They're here for me, and I can never repay such pure love.❞
[y/n, minute 42:22]: ❝If you watched up to here, I'm sure you're wondering whether you should believe all of this, and like I said, it's all up to you❞
[y/n, minute 44:50]: ❝I will not be speaking about Aidan Kim again, so I ask you to refrain from asking about him. It's all been said and done, and I'm eager to move on.❞
[END]
You are looking at the all the comments.
aidanbabes WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH EVEN ON
flowerbedkim Oh so now Aidan forced her to be with him? Bullshit. You are never saving your lying ass y/n, fuck you!!!!!
thatbitch123 You are absolutely right y/n if you were a man this wouldn’t have happened it's so sad
ynbabes2 my queen i waited for you to speak for so long!!! WE HAVE TO MOVE ON FROM THIS
leclercstar you all have made this girl's life absolute hell, i hope you never find peace!! I'm glad she's friends with Charles and Carlos.
presleyvibes wait and you thank people but not Vic who let you stay at her house? you're an ungrateful bitch
albstappen I saw her pic with Lily Muni and I just knew she was one of the good ones
ynmybeloved EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST YN SHALL FALL
kim41d4an IT'S YOUR WORD AGAINST AIDAN'S YOU CHEATING WHORE
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June 12th, SoHo, New York.
You are trying to clean the mess around you as best you can. And although you could call someone to help you, sweeping and scrubbing keeps you busy and distracted. The first message you received after posting the video was from Mati a 'proud of you xx, tell me all about it later please!' text that made you take your first deep breath of the afternoon. You made an appointment with a doctor first thing in the morning, you want the panic to go away, you need it to.
Thoughts of how they're destroying you again, calling you a liar and a whore, swarm your brain and you try to toss them in the trash along with your ruined Dolce & Gabbana coat, mysteriously cut up with scissors. You told the truth, and not even the whole of it.
The video is being shown everywhere, you're sure you'll see it tomorrow in Good Morning America where they'll dissect every single move you make and every word that comes out of your mouth.
It's almost 9 pm when you finally stop wiping the apartment down, trying to get rid of every sign that Aidan Kim was ever inside it. It's not true that he paid for the apartment, you picked it yourself and made it a home and then he chose to come and live here, paying the rent once every three to five months. This is your home and you are reclaiming it.
Your phone rings and you take another deep breath before picking it up. Mildred and Walter have resorted to communicate with you through email, so you wonder who it is. Victoria called a few times during the weekend, left voicemails and text messages until you blocked her. Each of them with a new excuse and a more creative way to pin all of what she had done, on you.
It's a FaceTime call from Charles.
"Charlie!" you greet with a smile, before the image of him loads completely. "It's 3 am in Monaco, what the hell are you doing awake?"
Charles shrugs and you notice his bare shoulders, he's shirtless. You're suddenly self-conscious about the way you look. With your hair sticking up from the sweat, your greasy face and ragged shirt. It's a silly worry.
"I wanted to talk to you," he says, and you know he's tired. "I saw your video earlier, but I was doing something else."
"Oh, you saw that."
"I'm proud of you y/n, you are brave for speaking your mind like that. I know it must have taken some effort." Charles moves again and you see his chest, he's already in bed.
"Charles, go to sleep, we can talk about this later," you chuckle, heat is rising to your face.
"I wanted to see you y/n, it doesn't matter what time it is. And I really wanted to tell you I'm glad you posted that video."
"Thank you, Charlie. I should have done it sooner."
"The only one who knows what timing is right for you, is yourself."
"Yeah, I guess so." you sigh, you're exhausted too and you blame it more on the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through than deep cleaning your apartment.
"Are you tired?" he asks, suppressing a yawn.
"No more than you," you retort, but can't help yawning as well. It's a scientific fact that yawns are contagious. "Go to sleep, we can talk tomorrow."
You talked yesterday too, and the day before, and you cried so much on the phone again you thought he would eventually hang up until you calmed down. But Charles soothed you through the phone at 1 am Monaco time and told you to let it all out, and listened without interrupting you once how you called Aidan and Victoria every name in the book.
"Fine," Charles says, rubbing his left eye carelessly. "Will you give me a tour of your apartment tomorrow, then?"
"Yes! I finished cleaning it today!"
Charles laughs softly at your excitement. “We’ll talk tomorrow then, just because you need to sleep.”
“Sure I am the sleepy one,” you roll your eyes and Charles smiles, both dimples showing. “Goodnight Charlie, sweet dreams.” The last part you say it in a slightly mocking tone but Charles doesn’t take it as such, smile widening.
“Goodnight soleil,” he says and waits a few seconds for you to react to your newly given nickname before hanging up, anxious but satisfied.
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─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are liking the story so far. We're slowly getting to the y/n redemption. Once again, i really appreciate all of your interactions they mean the world to me. Also check out the series playlist if you haven't♡❞
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azrielbrainrot · 1 year ago
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 5
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: It's time to find your handler and make him answer for what he's done to you.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore (nothing too graphic)
Word Count: 4715
Notes: This took a while to write, I'm sorry about that but life has been kicking my ass. I really hope it makes enough sense because I've found I'm not very good at writing action scenes (but that's also not the main focus). Hope you enjoy!
Part 4 ○ Part 6
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The moon was high in the sky, its pale light guiding your way through the forest. The air was strangely quiet, the leaves crunching beneath your feet were the only thing that could be heard between the trees. Even the wind was serene and no animal dared make a sound, as if sensing what was to come. The atmosphere allowed you to keep your composure, any incoming threats would be easier to detect like this. Unfortunately, so would your allies.
It's funny how so much can change in a matter of days. Before, when you were only a relatively low ranking member of the guild, walking through the dark woods as you are doing now would simply be the norm, whether you were on a mission or not, but, after everything you learned, not having Azriel and his shadows near you makes you feel off-kilter, like you can't protect him if he stands too far from you.
If it weren't for the millions of problems that keep piling on, you'd probably sit on this feeling, dissecting it until you realize how peculiar it actually is for you to feel so achingly connected to the shadowsinger who, even if had been your husband during a time of your life you've now forgotten, was essentially a stranger to you now. You've only really known him for about two weeks, not nearly enough time to be feeling like a part of you is missing.
You weren't used to worrying about anyone else at times like these. Even when your missions weren't solo, you didn't actually know your coworkers, much less cared if they survived or not. But now, you can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, of how Azriel and his family could get hurt because of you. You stayed up thinking about this all night, if this would all be truly worth it just to get your memories back, but had decided that you wanted to know what happened, no matter the cost, and knew that, as much as the Inner Circle was helping you recover your memories, not all their motives were altruistic. They all wanted revenge as much as you did.
All of you had planned this out meticulously, going down to every last detail and considering every possible outcome. Everyone was also extra careful on how to approach using you as bait. You expected it from Azriel - he's been protective of you ever since you stepped foot into his High Lord's home - but seeing the rest of them so worried about you made you want to recover your memories that much more. You want to remember these people, want to know how they all, especially Azriel, came to care for you, so much so that even death didn't stop those feelings.
There had been other plans brought up, ones that didn't involve putting you in such a risky situation, but it was soon decided that the only way to get to Norris would be to show up alone. If he so much as caught a glimpse of anyone else, you know he would simply run and if he truly put his guard up and went into hiding, finding him would be nearly impossible even with Azriel's spies and shadows at his disposal, he hadn't found you after all.
The tree you were looking for comes into view as you get lost in your thoughts, the magic traces left behind on its bark unmistakably familiar. The guild has used this system for as long as you've been a part of it. Every important meeting with your handler had taken place next to any object or area marked with this exact faint magic, enough for the attuned eye to pick up on but not so strong that anyone else might come across them and meddle where they're not welcomed.
You don't have to wait by the marked tree for long before an imposing figure appears beside you. He had probably been watching you for as long as you've winnowed into the edge of the treeline, keeping his eyes on you as you walked to the meeting place. The air shifts, the wind picking up slightly as if sensing the tension threatening to form in your body.
Turning around as casually as possible, you face your former handler, the male you thought had saved your life but you've now learned did quite the opposite. Not that there had been any particularly fond feelings between you and him, but it still hurts to know how easily the male manipulated you and turned your entire life around with no remorse.
He was mostly covered with a black hood, only a bit of his face being visible through the shadow it cast, enough to meet his eyes. You've only seen him without it a few times, you know that dark brown hair lays under the hood and a few scars adorn his face. Truthfully, you're not even sure if this isn't some intricate glamour. Nothing that comes from this male should be trusted.
His form gives nothing away, no nerves or suspicions, but his brown eyes rake over your body, searching for something. Since he thinks you've just crawled out of a cell or worse, he's probably looking for any signs of injury, or that you've betrayed him and the guild. It's best you don't let him find anything that tells him otherwise.
“Norris,” you greet him as you would any other time, nodding once at him with a passive expression.
He crosses his arms and meets your eyes when he hears your voice. His eyes dart over the forest around you as if he knew Azriel would be lurking in the shadows. His self assured expression doesn't help with your nerves. Norris always seems like he's three steps ahead, and more often than not he was actually four.
“I didn't think I'd see you again,” he finally speaks up.
“I thought so too.”
Norris hums in response. You're not sure if he believes you or not, but short and distant answers are the norm for him. Either way, you need to stick to the plan, there's no turning back now. “How did you escape the Night Court?”
“They thought I was someone else, someone they used to know,” you start, trying to convey some of the confusion you'd experienced the first time they told you who you were. He knows you well enough to expect you to have some trouble maintaining the same level of apathy he so easily displays, he'd warned you multiple times to act more like an assassin and not let your emotions get the best of you. “It eventually led to a fight between the High Lord and his Spymaster. They couldn't agree on what to do with me from what I heard. I managed to escape in the chaos.”
You stop for a second, licking your lips. You decided not to completely lie to him so it would be more believable, this version of events could have come true had you not trusted Azriel, had your feelings not been so suffocating and confusing.
“I waited for a while before contacting you, to make sure they didn't come looking for me,” you continue eventually, the fact that he isn't asking more questions makes your heart pick up ever so slightly.
He turns his head to the side, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You resist the urge to clench your sweaty palms, not wanting to let him see through you. “Who did they think you were?”
“The Spymaster's former wife,” you admitted, hoping you sounded as detached as possible.
“And what do you think about it?”
“What?”
“Do you believe them?” You didn't expect him to ask you outright. It would make more sense for him to try to cover it up, stopping any doubts you might have had before they grew.
“Of course not. I've never been married,” the lie tastes wrong on your tongue but you make sure not to let any of it translate into your body language or your voice. Which is why you're so caught off guard by his next words. “I think you're lying to me.”
Norris turns you around and grabs you to him before you have a chance to react, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing a dagger to your neck, power rumbling under his skin, raising the hairs on the back of your neck at its intensity. This isn't that surprising to you since you were more than aware of how much faster and stronger he was, and that tricking him would be extremely hard, but this means you need to move to plan B. And you were really hoping you could avoid a direct conflict like this.
Azriel is the first one to show himself, emerging from the shadows with deadly calm, hazel eyes never straying from Norris as his hand hovers Truth Teller. As much as you try to keep calm and not give anything away, you know Norris can feel you tense up and hear your heartbeat picking up when you see the shadowsinger walking straight into danger.
You feel another presence behind you, Morrigan, followed by Cassian and Amren on each side. The sisters had stayed behind, despite their many protests. In case anything happened, Velaris needed its High Lady and the Valkyries at least. You also know this is a personal matter for the fae present, you had been their friend and been ripped away from their lives by the male currently holding you at knife point, threatening to end your life once again, for good this time.
They all start walking slowly to you, effectively forming a circle around the two of you, getting ready to attack if Norris hurts you or tries to run. He appeared as calm as if he had just been caught on a night stroll, his heartbeat never rising in tempo against your back even under Azriel's chilling stare. He had been expecting your betrayal, and had been ready for them.
You could feel the fury in the air, could see it written in Azriel's eyes as he studied every single one of Norris' movements. You had been worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure since he was against this plan from the start, in fear of this exact situation coming true. But he seemed completely focused, not even risking looking at you too long in case he'd get distracted. This made you relax ever so slightly. You'd planned out for this situation and even if you ended up hurt or worse, you know Azriel won't let Norris go unharmed. You would get your revenge one way or another, you just hoped you could spare the male in front of you any more pain.
Rhysand winnows in next to Azriel moments later, darkness clinging to him as he takes a few steps closer to you nonchalantly. Talons scratching your mental walls before checking in on you. All according to plan.
“I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but even I can't spin a lie so effortlessly,” he starts, arrogance dripping in every word. You'd never admit it, much less to him, but Rhysand was every bit the perfect High Lord, especially at times like these. It showed in the way he carried himself down to the seemingly bottomless pit of power at his disposal. No matter how strong Norris is, anyone with even a little of self preservation would think twice on how to handle him.
“I came prepared for your little tricks, High Lord.”
You frown at his words, confusion settling over you before you realize what it meant. Rhysand must have tried getting inside his mind as soon as he appeared. Norris had expected him to, had put up walls to ensure it didn't happen. This would only make things harder.
“Skipping pleasantries, are we?” Rhysand's face gives nothing away, but as he drops said pleasantries, it gives way to some of the anger bubbling under the surface, the next words coming out in a serious tone. “You're not walking out of here, Norris.”
“I wouldn't be so sure,” Norris says as he leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “Did you think I would come on my own?”
A sinking feeling grows in your stomach as you watch dark figures manifesting all around you, far outnumbering your group. You recognize some of them, know their clothes and masks mean they're assassins from the guild.
A fight breaks out right before your eyes, causing you to struggle desperately for the first time in Norris' arms. He tries to keep you in place by letting the blade touch your skin as a warning, a few drops of blood escaping the small wound. You know he could easily kill you, but you're also aware that if he did the chances of him escaping would drop to zero. That's the only reason you're still breathing, so he can use you as a shield.
Your eyes were following Azriel's shadow covered form as he fought against multiple attackers, the feeling of helplessness rising with each clank of his sword. You can't stand there and wait any longer, so you grab the blade still positioned dangerously close to your throat and wrap your fingers around it tightly so it cuts your hand instead of your neck while swinging your elbow back to try to push off of Norris. Just as you expected, you weren't strong enough and he pulled the knife back from your grasp, intending to stab your stomach to stop you, but you had a new trick up your sleeve.
Azriel's shadows had moved to you as soon as Norris grabbed you, crawling up your legs discreetly in the dark of night, where they stayed waiting for your signal. And, as they tasted your blood in the air, they engulfed Norris, giving you enough room to push back and to elbow him a few more times, also letting off some of your power and finally being able to release yourself from his hold.
The shadows aren't enough to keep him away from you for long, the lack of visibility barely slowing him down as he attacks you before you even have the chance to take a breath. Luckily, your little helpers' singer rushes in, getting between you and deflecting Norris' strike. He hands you a sword so you can fight back with him and pushes back against Norris without wasting a single moment.
The three of you enter a match, barely being able to pay attention to what's happening around you, though you can tell everyone is in the same predicament. Even between you and Azriel, keeping up with Norris proves difficult, he's not only an exceedingly proficient fighter but he's also familiar with your attacks and style, making it easier for him to avoid your attacks and focus more on Azriel's.
The fight goes on for longer than you'd like. Even with your and Azriel's joint efforts, you had barely managed to wound Norris. The bastard was too strong and experienced, he was one of the guild's oldest assassins for a reason.
Suddenly the sickening scent of blood reaches your nostrils, in a concentration you haven't experienced before. It makes you falter in your movements, but luckily it has the same effect on Norris, leaving him open to Azriel's attacks, who seems undisturbed by it. You risk a glance behind you, but all you can see is the rest of the Inner Circle watching the battle, while the ground and their bodies, even the trees around them, are covered in blood. You're not exactly sure what happened, what they did to completely obliterate the assassins to a point not even their bodies were left, but you don't have more time to linger on this as Azriel finally manages to get a few good hits in, leaving Norris stumbling back away from him.
Rhysand is next to you in the blink of an eye, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You move to help Azriel, hoping to distract Norris enough for him to be able to infiltrate his mind. It doesn't take much longer before Norris finally drops unconscious at your feet, and you immediately let out a relieved breath. Azriel's shadows move to tie him up so he has no chance of escaping.
Your plan had always been to catch Norris off guard or wear him down enough so that Rhysand would be able to infiltrate his mind, successfully knocking him out so you could take him back to the Night Court for interrogation. And, as much as you'd planned for the possibility of him bringing backup, the assassins had made this harder to achieve. You all had been worn down more than expected, but, as you look around, you see no one seems to be gravely injured.
Cassian smiles and nods at you when he notices you eyeing the blood trickling down his shoulder, it wasn't too deep of a wound and the blood was already stopping from the looks of it. Azriel did tell you Illyrians heal faster than most fae. Speaking of, you feel scarred fingers wrap around your wrist as you give Cassian a tentative smile of your own.
Your focus is stolen by Azriel, your eyes finding his instantly as he holds up your hand carefully, examining the wound and the blood that had been smeared all around you during the fight. He's wearing a conflicted expression, pain visible in his eyes. You've found Azriel shoulders too much guilt, even when what happened wasn't his fault.
His other hand reaches out to touch your neck, where a small cut overlaps with the pronounced scar on your skin. He's been blaming himself for your death for over a century, he must have been terrified of not being able to stop it again, even if it was happening right in front of him.
“I'm alright, Azriel,” you smile up at him, hoping to calm him down, “This will be gone by tomorrow.”
“We need to take you to a healer.” You shake your head, not wanting to stay behind and leave them to deal with Norris by themselves. Gently prying Azriel's hands away from you, you go to tell him as much.
“He's right,” Morrigan interjects, “I can take you to Madja and she'll fix it for you in an instant. I can bring you back right after.”
“It's just my hand.” You don't understand why they're making such a big deal out of it. This wouldn't need a healer, aside from some discomfort it won't hinder you in any way. They all have small wounds of their own that they seem to be ignoring.
“You're hurt.” There's a finality in Azriel's tone that is starting to rub you the wrong way. You understand he's concerned, you've tried to be considerate of his complicated feelings ever since you found out you had been his wife and the tragic way in which he had lost you, but that doesn't mean he can order you around.
“Barely.” You try to keep your voice leveled, pointing at Norris' unconscious form still covered in shadows. “And this is a lot more important. I need to know what he did.”
“I'll tell you everything we find. You don't need to go with us.”
“What?” You can feel the confusion taking over your features. Azriel has been forthcoming with any and every bit of information, you don't understand why he's trying to keep you away now.
“It's best if you don't come to the dungeon. You don't need to see that,” he offers, his face becoming irritatingly blank, the mask you know he uses as the Night Court's Spymaster. This only makes your anger spike even faster.
“See what?,” you challenged, head tilting to the side, “Do you think I never tortured anyone?” Your voice rises with every word, annoyance taking over your body. “I know the female you married was much different from what I am now, and I don't know if she let you order her around like this, but I'm not her.”
“I'm not ordering you-” Azriel's face falls at your words but you're too far gone to even try to interpret what it's written in his eyes, to even listen to what he has to say.
“It sure sounds like you are.”
Rhysand stands between you two before the argument can escalate further. “This is not the time to be fighting. We need to take him to a safe place before he regains conscience. I can only keep him down for so long.” He eyes Azriel for a moment, studying his features as some sort of understanding takes over his own. “Mor will take you to a healer,” he holds up a hand as you open your mouth to argue back, “It will only take a moment and then you can meet us in the dungeon. We won't start without you. I promise.”
By the expression on his face and authority behind his words, you know trying to argue with the High Lord won't take you anywhere right now. He's too used to calling all the shots and you can't change his mind in a matter of minutes, not when there's a much more pressing situation on your hands. You need to choose your battles.
You simply turn to Morrigan, ignoring the hazel eyes staring straight into your soul. “Take me to your healer then. The sooner I get this done the better.” She nods at you, extending her hand as she winnows you both back to Velaris.
The adrenaline of the fight started wearing off as the healer, Madja, worked on your hand, stitching skin back together with expert ease. As much as it had annoyed you to be sent to the infirmary, you could admit the pain had been worse than you expected as your body calmed down. It still wouldn't have been much of a problem to warrant that amount of concern.
Morrigan simply watches as the old fae works on you. She tried to talk to you about Azriel but you pushed her away, not wanting to hear any explanations from her. He's old enough to speak for himself, and you'll probably be eager to hear what he has to say after this whole situation is worked out. Right now, you only want to go back to where they're holding Norris so you can finally understand what he did to you and hopefully learn how to fix it.
Just as Madja is wrapping your hand in a white bandage, keeping the strong smelling ointment she spread in place, the healer speaks up for what feels like the first time tonight. “That boy loves you more than anything. Give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you,” she finishes as she pats your hand softly. “All done.”
Her words give you pause. It does make you wonder how obvious your and Azriel's love had been that everyone seems to have no doubt in their minds that he would do anything for you. He seems to be very private in his affairs, especially personal ones. It also makes you curious if you'd known her before, it's more than likely since she's the Inner Circle's healer. You push those thoughts away, knowing you wouldn't ask the old healer about your relationship before anyway. You were so close to getting your memories, you needed to focus on that.
“Thank you.” She gives you one more smile before gathering her things, making you stand up and rush to Morrigan, who has a somewhat nostalgic and understanding smile on her face. She holds onto your shoulder before you even have the chance to say anything, knowing what your next words were going to be.
As soon as you winnow in, you understand why they called this place a dungeon. There really was no other way to describe the dark, stone covered space. The air was thick with humidity and blood, the kind you know has lingered for centuries and will never be completely washed out. You have to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, it was truly close to pitch black inside, the perfect environment to torment someone in, especially when you're the shadowsinger.
You never let your eyes meet Azriel's when you walk in, even as he turned to you, only allowing yourself to focus on your former handler, heavy chains on each of his wrists as he stood on his knees in the middle of a cell. He was already awake, it seems they did start without you. Rhysand speaks into your mind, sensing the incoming protest. He woke up sooner than we expected. He's been trained for this.
A sigh almost escapes you. Norris was trained for every possibility, this was going to be a gruesome session. As much as you were arguing with Azriel to stay, the truth is this is not something you ever enjoyed. So many in the guild did this sort of thing for pleasure but you only ever tortured anyone when it was strictly necessary and they had truly done something awful to warrant it. You can only hope it at least gives you the information you've been searching for and the freedom you never even dared to dream about.
“I almost thought you weren't going to show your face again.” It's infuriating how unaffected Norris sounds even though his blood already stains Azriel's favorite dagger.
“Wouldn't miss this show for the world,” you admit. He was one of the few individuals you believed deserved this and much worse, for all he has done to not only you but so many others. You're almost certain your conscience won't bother you for this.
Up until tonight your feelings for him were passive. You never particularly liked him, but you always felt obligated to show him respect as your superior, there were also less than ideal consequences if you let your true feelings show. Still, there had been some small, stupid hope that he didn't really do all those awful things to you. He trained you and taught you a lot, knowledge that you know has helped you in a lot of bad situations, that has kept you alive through them, and will continue to do so in the future.
A sickening smirk overtakes his face at your response. “I always liked you better when you acted like one of us.” Fury and shame travels across your body, but Azriel moves before you get the chance to, slashing his blade across Norris' chest, a sharp noise of pain escaping him. The gesture almost makes you smile, as twisted as that may sound.
“You'd do well to watch your mouth. My Spymaster doesn't take well to disrespect,” Rhysand's voice sounds different, arrogant but nothing short of furious.
“Still hung up on her? Since you stopped searching I thought you found yourself a new shiny toy.” Azriel's fist connects with Norris' jaw as he gets the last words out, a laugh escaping him despite the flow of blood rushing through his teeth for being able to rattle the shadowsinger.
You decide to step in, not wanting to let Azriel speak or act for you when you're more than capable of doing it yourself. And knowing how much he blames himself for your situation, for stopping his search when you were alive all this time. You'd be damned if you let Norris hurt him in any way. He's done more than enough.
“So you admit you were the one who found me.” You walk until you're standing over Norris' beaten body, right next to Azriel, close enough he has to adjust his wings not to touch you.
“Of course, you were one of my finest projects.” You let out an acknowledging hum, temperature dropping around you as your icy power rose to your fingertips. The pain would be a lot worse if you kept his body temperature down, you want his whole body to ache. This was going to be a long night, thankfully hurting Norris was nothing short of enjoyable.
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threepandas · 10 months ago
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Bad End: Happy Hunting! (1)
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I should have known better. They told us. TRAINED US. Over and over, drilled into our heads! Don't assume! Don't PROJECT Human body language onto alien species! Think that just because they look similar, are ACTING similar, their brains are in any way WORKING similar!
Not every species pack bonds! Some of them are PREDATORS. Be CAREFUL!
I was an idiot. A fucking IDIOT!
I gasped for air. Ran. Ran and ran and RAN. Desperately trying to put distance between me and the hunters behind me. I could hear screams. Crashing. The sound of weapon fire. The air here wasn't RIGHT. Too high in oxygen? Too low? Some other trace element, slowly poisoning my lungs?
I didn't know. Scared! Oh god, I'm so scared!
I thought he was my friend!
Thought THEY were my friends! Stupid. So God damned stupid! You really will pack bond with ANYTHING, won't you?! They bare their teeth and you fucking thought it was a SMILE! No wonder I barely graduated. They never should have-!
A root catches my foot.
Crashing to the mulch of the forest floor. Scramble to get up. My ankle on fire. Hurts. Oh god it hurts! Ignore it. Go! Keep going! Gotta get OUT! Find a ship. Any ship! Radio for help!
All the trees look the same. Am I even going in a straight line? Deeper or across? Away from civilization? I don't know how to survive here! Can I even drink the water? No. Run! Just RUN! Nothing else!
I can't hear them.
Him.
I thought he was my friend.
My grades were shit. Worst of the Best, but ultimately good enough. Got to see the stars. The galaxy. Meet real life aliens. Was a glorified gofer for the Earthling Diplomat's Entourage. Galactic Council offered staff. Wasn't really an offer. We took um. Some of them were the "better" guards then the super military badasses we had brought.
Military badasses were pretty offended.
But I was a gofer. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Just here for the aliens, right? Yay getting to meet some, right? I couldn't even PRONOUNCE their species name. I was mortified. Tried my damnedest. They thought it was hilarious. My pronunciation was god awful. Was calling them the cutesy babified version of "office chair".
Met Wolfe. He seemed FRIENDLY. Kind. Considerate. He told jokes. Asked about my day. I started sharing. Hobbies and interests. Stories about home. Explained weird human behaviors. We were close. I... I thought we were close! Was it a lie? Was everything A LIE!?
When my rotation in space was coming to an end, I was SAD! Fucking HEARTBROKEN! That I might never see my friends again. Since communication between our two planets wasn't even stabilized yet. Might never be. I wanted to savor our time together. Treasure it!
But then things started to go wrong.
Random malfunctions, that delayed and delayed us. Lost communications that nearly caused interplanetary incidents. Took days and weeks to fix at a time. People went MISSING. We looked. Every time we LOOKED!
They're dead, aren't they? Oh god. Dozens of crew members DEAD.
Then the engine "broke". Conveniently just close enough for us to make an emergency landing on this planet! And oh, would you look at THAT! A sacred cultural festival!? They won't help us unless we join in.
It's a MARRIAGE HUNT.
Heavy emphasis on the HUNT part!
They weren't surprised. Not a single one. Every last one just turned too different people and... and...! Wolfe planned this. THEY planned this! We're gonna die. I trusted him and now I'm gonna DIE! Can't breathe! Branches whipping at my arms and hair and face, as I RUN. Down slopes. Across shallow rivers. Even as my limbs BURN. I... I HAVE TOO-!
A powerful wall of muscle slams into me.
I scream. Thrash, even as I fall. My arms are easily tucked and pinned against my side, as the body covering mine rolls with me down a slight incline. The smell of wet plant matter and upturned soil thick in the strange air. Dizzy. I feel sick. Oh god please no!
Heat and pressure pin me down. Arms like thick steel bands. Still, I struggle, like a cornered animal. I have too. They always tell you to FIGHT. Only chance and survival. The deep rumble of crooned reassurances in an alien dialect fill my ear. I can feel how DEEPLY he breathes me in, before each sentence. Like hes been holding back and finally no longer has too, is giddy with it. How his hands already spread possessively, eager to explore.
And he's strong. Oh god, he's so strong! Please please please! Let go. LET GO!
"Shhhhhh shh shh, is 'okay' now. I have you. You ran so hard! Did so well! My precious little human~ so brave. So strong. You did it! Now, no one can EVER seperate us! You don't have to worry anymore. No more tears~" Hunter, Warrior, oh god it was never a GRIN-! His teeth are so sharp. Pressed so close to my skin!
"I'll take care of EVERYTHING~"
I'm scared.
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midnight-mourning · 4 months ago
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He’s a Little Confused but He's Got the Holiday Spirit
Hello! As the title implies, it's time for this to become a fic, for those that don't know, I wrote a prompt response that's basically a christmas au of confused spirit (curtosey of @divinit3a) and it was so good that I decided to make a full fic for it. this post contains the basic info of the fic, some lovely designs brought to life by Pom and will include links to each chapter as it posts ^_^
There's also a little poll at the end to vote on the title if you'd like to participate~
The Plot:
You're a blacksmith/animatronic technican in a small, mountain village, known far and wide across the kingdom for it's holiday decorations and delight. So much so that the royal family themselves visit yearly to partake in the festivities.
However, due to some recent threats and strange has happenings, there's much more security this year, and among that security is two royal guards who seem keenly interested in keeping you from investigating too far into the matter. And you, they're also interested in you.
The Characters:
Y/N - You! With the same personality, motivations, and goals as Y/N from Confused Spirit, and with a similar job as well. You run a shop in town with a small team of smithies, tinkerers, and inventors at your side. (I don't have a design currently but imagine a the most androgynous blacksmith/medival peasent outfit ever <33)
Sun & Moon - The two guards that have been meddling in your affairs. Though, given they've been a surprising help with your siblings, you can't say much. Also with the same personalities, and characteristics as Confused Spirit. However, they're motivations and goals are different and do not reflect their CS counterparts. Meaning, anything discovered about these two does not apply to or justify any actions taken by them in CS. Designs below are by Pom who brought my vision to life <3333
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Shop Crew - the parts & infastructure team from CS! with an adjustment here or there :)
Melissa & Gabriel - Your siblings. Still adorable. And still a menace.
All others - You'll just have to see :) There is some overlap from CS, such as Abby as some already know, among many more
Where to read:
I'll be posting these to tumblr & ao3! Tumblr first/only (until I can think up a title) but then I'll also have it on ao3 for better reading bc these will be long chapters.
Speaking of, there will be seven chapters total, including the one I've already posted!
Timeline:
Honestly want to tell y'all i'll be sharing a chapter every day or so, but after the disaster that was me last week with feeling unwell and getting behind, I'll just say, she'll be posted completely hopefully before my break is over 😅
Title (and tagging):
While I admit it WOULD be funny to just name it Holiday Spirit, I'm gonna let y'all decide for sure. I'll leave the poll up for a week since I'm not in a rush to post to ao3 (and I unfortunately doubt I'll have it done in a week lmao) everything related to it though will be tagged with #HS! au and #Holiday spirit au as the au is called Holiday Spirit, this is just for fun pretty much
Chapter 1:
Chapter 2:
https://www.tumblr.com/midnight-mourning/771893744939270144/2-animatronics-dancing-oh-and-you-youre-there?source=share (this is an inline link bc it KEEPS SHOWING SPOILERS)
EDIT: messed up the poll, so sorry >_< if you already voted and it said 1 day pls vote again shkjdf
Tag list for the usuals (if you would like added, see this post for more info):
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8
@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles
@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva
@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml
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seijorhi · 3 months ago
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Good day (or night) Rhi!!! I've been reading your stuff since 2021 or something, wild ride. And I have to say pressing on reading that one Oikawa Yandere fic of yours (Bully I think?) 4 years ago was ONE OF THE BEST DECISIONS OF MY LIFE. Like no shit your fic changed my life now I read them everynight as my bedtime story and you're one of my most my fav writer, not just yandere. You and your writing inspired me so much, so even though we're just strangers on the internet, please take all my love Rhi!!! ゚+.ヽ(≧▽≦)ノ.+゚
Anyway enough with my rambling. The thing is All In has been my new obsession lately (not a surprise), have been rereading it too many times and deliciously chowed down on the answers you gave on other asks. Truly life has been beautiful. And I have some questions for you if you don't mind how far behind this ask is:
What did the trio do after they got the reader to their nest?
Considering how sick she was, did they at least give her some times to recover physically and adjust or just jump straight to the sexy stuff with the excuse "she's their beta, she can take it"? 👀
And lastly how was poor reader's reaction of waking up in a strange room smelled and filled with the predators that kidnaped her, knowing she was fucked??
Lots of love, thank you!! ❤️🌹
ahhh thank you thank you bby!! bully feels like a lifetime ago but then so does the start of this blog tbh
as for all in, it's straight to the nest. i would say straight onto a knot but the tendou and semi aren't heartlessly cruel, and unlike ushijima, they're not in a rut – they've got all the time in the world to work their girl up to taking their knots. don't get me wrong, it's still gonna hurt, and she'll be sore for a while yet, but it won't be the violent frenzy it was back at the restaurant.
for her part, it's a mixed bag. she's angry and terrified and hopelessly fucked, but the mating bond's working against her – she'll feel her pleasure AND theirs. physically, she's doing better than she has in days. she wants to hate them and claw their eyes out, she wants to bury herself under the covers and scream through tears. she can't bear their touch, can't bear it if they stop. every orgasm is twice as intense. it's everything she thought she wanted delivered on a golden platter in the worst possible way.
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nzchance · 2 months ago
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WIP Wednesday: Untitled Angst Week WIP
Haven't been tagged by anyone, but I need a bit of a kick in the butt to get more done for my @bucktommyangstweek entries while there's still time as I'm a slow AF writer. Thought maybe sharing a little bit now will help keep me accountable enough to write more.
First time I'm putting fic I've written out there in nearly a decade 🫣 Be gentle with me 😅
This part only has Tommy, but this will eventually be delicious Buck/Tommy angst. I don't think I'll say yet what day/prompt I intend this for since my plan for it can work for a few prompts. I'm unsure if I'll be able to finish all the fics I want to for the event. I might have to combine some prompts and be a little less ambitious. We'll see!
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Death is a shadow that comes to take souls into its darkness.
Tommy has seen it lurking out of the corner of his eye all his life.
It comes and goes. On some calls, he'll see it leave and leave alone when one of his aeromedic colleagues breathes life back into a victim. Sometimes it lingers with them even when a Lifepak successfully jolts a heart back into beating. Sometimes Tommy knows even before Tejada or Lister or Prescott note a time of death through their headsets that he's flying a body to the morgue and not a patient to the hospital. He's gotten used to the darkness as an extra passenger; some journeys are bleaker when it isn't there.
In Iraq, the darkness never left. It was always there lurking — clinging to one man, one unit or another wherever he was stationed. There were days it never left his sight. When they were oscar mike, the shadow was on the move too. Sometimes, it crept too close for comfort.
Tommy was young when he was deployed. Despite all his training, he didn't get to fly any of the Cobras or Kiowas his unit took up himself nor did he get to be in very many at all. When he was, he took the co-pilot's seat, charged with communications and navigation — knowing he'd only have to take control in the worst-case scenario.
Flying was an escape every time. During OIF, he was safest in the skies. He knew the cyclic in front of him would remain untouched because the darkness was grounded and Tommy was not.
In the military, every guy's got their own quirks and the rest of the guys wouldn't allow anyone not to know all about theirs. Tommy kept his eyes closed every moment he was allowed to just to have some peace. The darkness behind his eyelids was preferable to the darkness wrapped around him even in a near-empty desert with few structures that could block out the daylight. He was occasionally, lightly jeered for the habit and its presumed causes — his religiosity, his lethargy. He worked too hard to be accused of malingering and was too amiable to ever truly be excluded. Still he knew many found him strange in a way they couldn't put their finger on.
He'd caught the whispers of his sergeant once in the dead of night. Tommy hadn't been asleep, just keeping the darkness at bay, when he heard, "There's something about him. It's in his eyes. They're haunted."
+
The first time Tommy understood what the darkness was — what it did — he was seven-almost-eight years old. His mother had been sick for a year and wasn't getting better.
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No pressure tagging: @beanarie, @cappuccinoandglitter, @exhaustedpirate, @salty-autistic-writer, and @frogsinflannel. If anyone else sees this and wants to share their WIP too, feel free to do so! (Especially if you're also gearing up for the angst week event.)
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aishangotome · 4 months ago
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[Clavis] A Love Tailored To You Part 2
Credit to @shatcey for providing the video upload.
Cyril: ...Whoa!
Cyril narrowly dodged the net that fell from above.
Cyril: What's going on? I thought he stopped setting traps––whoa!
From directly above Cyril, who had dodged the net, something gray––a massive amount of mini clay dolls rained down, and they began to vibrate subtly.
It was quite a sight, as if he was being swarmed by palm-sized small animals.
Cyril: H-hey, they're kind of moving. It's ticklish and uncomfortable! What are these things?!
Cyril struggled to get out of the mountain of mini clay dolls, but their subtle vibrations seemed to trip him up, and he couldn't get to his feet.
(That's a very elaborate trap...)
Clavis: Hmm, there wasn't enough vibration. It's a failure.
A hand slipped around my waist, and before I knew it, Clavis was standing beside me.
Emma: I thought you stopped setting traps.
Clavis: I only said I would stop setting traps for you for a while.
Clavis: I don't recall saying I would stop setting traps altogether, did I?
Clavis snapped his fingers, and the vibrating dolls stopped. Instead, a pleasant smell wafted through the air.
Cyril: What is this flower-like smell...? No, it's too strong! It's going to stick to me! To my body!
Clavis was seriously observing Cyril, who was in quite a predicament.
His gaze never turned to me, and of course, I wasn't caught in any traps.
(...Clavis said he would only play pranks on me.)
*Another flashback*
Clavis: Unfortunately, I can't promise that.
Clavis: From now on, think of it as all the pranks being concentrated on you.
*Flashback over*
Ever since Clavis said that, most of the traps had been set with me as the target.
(And yet, such an elaborate trap for someone other than me...)
(––If I said something like that, Clavis would surely be overjoyed.)
Before I knew it, I was pulling Cyril out of the pile of dolls.
Cyril: Thank you, Miss Emma.
Emma: No, I couldn't just stand by and watch...
As Cyril brushed off his clothes, a sweet smell emanated from his entire body, likely to linger for days.
Clavis: What's wrong, Emma? "My beloved Clavis's traps are only for me"––
Clavis: Surely you're not going to say something so adorable, are you?
Cyril: Isn't that a bit too much of a delusion?
Clavis: Haha, if you think it's a delusion, then you still have a long way to go. You lack Emma power.
Cyril: What's Emma power?
Emma: Cyril is right.
Emma: It's true that Clavis's traps are a form of love for me, but I would never want to monopolize them...
(Right...?)
Emma: ––Even I wouldn't say that.
I said it as if to convince myself, and then I left the scene.
Every time I smelled the lingering sweet scent, the frustration in my chest grew.
Clavis: What do you make of Emma's reaction just now?
Cyril: Don't ask me.
Cyril: Setting such a crazy trap inside the mansion, even Miss Emma must be exasperated, right?
Cyril: Or maybe you finally made her angry.
Clavis: As a gentleman, sometimes I want to experience the adorable anger of my beloved.
Clavis: But that wasn't anger or exasperation. It was quite a rare reaction.
Cyril: Don't mess things up by teasing her strangely.
Clavis: Don't worry. I'm a gentleman. It's a piece of cake to bring back the smile of my beloved.
Clavis: There's no doubt that Emma will soon be head over heels for my overwhelming love.
Cyril: Wow, I'm really worried.
-
The next day, as I was preparing for the opening of the bookstore in the Kingdom of Lelouch––
Clavis: Emma.
Emma: Wah...!
Startled by the voice from above, I hurriedly looked up to see Clavis standing on the other side of the counter.
Clavis: You can spot countless traps, yet you didn't notice me entering...
Clavis: In other words, I've become such a natural presence by your side, like air, haven't I?
Emma: Clavis, you're always on my mind, but I was just lost in thought.
Clavis: Haha, my beloved is still a tsundere, I see.
Clavis: But it seems you were indeed "lost in thought."
Gazing at me with seductive eyes, Clavis walked around to my side of the counter.
He pulled me close by the waist, his golden eyes sparkling as he peered into my face.
Emma: Clavis...?
Clavis: I'm thinking of melting away those "thoughts" of yours. Do you mind?
Emma: Melting them away...? Mmm!
Before I knew it, my lips were covered, and the kiss deepened relentlessly.
His grip on my waist tightened, and our chests, pressed together, trembled with our heartbeats.
Emma: Mm, ah...
The moment our lips parted, Clavis pushed my upper body onto the counter.
My legs naturally lifted, and I found myself in a position where I was embracing Clavis with them.
Emma: W-wait, customers might come in.
Clavis: The citizens of our country are sensible. No one would ignore the "preparing for opening" sign and enter the store.
Emma: ...Attacking me like this from the morning is unbecoming of a gentleman.
Clavis: Haha, I can't deny that.
Clavis: But you also bear some responsibility.
Emma: !
He lifted my thigh, bringing my legs and his body closer together.
Clavis: With that look on your face, I can't stop myself, can I?
He leaned over me, thigh still raised, and looked closely at my face, now filled with anticipation.
The point of contact between us grew hot, and I could feel the moisture between my legs with every rub of our undergarments.
(I thought that by being able to overcome the traps, I could finally stand on equal footing with Clavis.)
(But it's no use... When he looks at me with those eyes, I become putty in his hands.)
Still, wanting to fight back somehow, I tried to initiate a kiss, and that's when––
Emma: Eh? What!?
A light explosion and people's screams could be heard from outside the building.
Just as it subsided, a sound like something bouncing repeatedly reached my ears.
(This is...)
Clavis: Hmm, you noticed?
Clavis pulled away and gently helped me down from the counter.
As he straightened my disheveled hair, several hurried footsteps approached.
???: King Clavis!
The door burst open.
The people who rushed in were the townspeople, their entire bodies dyed in seven colors.
Woman: We can't overlook this one! ––Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Emma.
Emma: N-no... What happened?
Man: It's a trap! Colorful balls suddenly erupted from the ground and started bouncing around!
Children: When you touch them, they burst and spray colored water everywhere!
Clavis: Now, now, calm down.
Clavis: The colored water is made with Lelouch's special, edible food coloring.
Clavis: Each color has a different flavor, so feel free to lick it all you want.
Clavis: I'm always thinking about how to entertain and bring happiness to my people.
Man: If that's the case, then please stop setting traps. We thought things had calmed down recently.
Even as they spoke, I could hear voices from outside saying things like, "This one's a bit sweet" and "This one's bitter."
The townspeople were panicking, but they also seemed to be enjoying themselves.
(Again. I'm feeling frustrated again.)
(It's crazy to be jealous over something like this...)
Clavis: The result is satisfactory, but it lacks a bit of punch. You would probably have avoided it––what's wrong?
Emma: Eh...?
Clavis: You're frowning.
Emma: ...Of course I am! Clavis caused trouble for everyone!
Emma: You're in for a lecture today!
Children: Oh dear, Miss Emma is angry.
Man: King Clavis, it's a surefire argument now.
Clavis: Haha, I like being lectured by Emma too, you know?
Seeing Clavis surrounded by the townspeople, looking so amused, makes me happy, but the colorful water dyeing everyone's bodies stings my heart.
(No way, am I about to cry over something like this...?)
(No, that can't be. Just because other people got caught in a trap, I wouldn't be that...)
Clavis: ...
Clavis: ...I'm sorry.
With a more subdued smile than usual, Clavis took my hand.
Clavis: I will humbly accept your lecture and show you my sincerity.
.
.
.
.
Part 1 | Part 3
If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)
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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 8 months ago
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The Worst Part
Could I possibly request some anxceit (platonic or romantic) where Virgil rescues Janus from some kind of danger? In the imagination, maybe? – anon
Hello hello! This might be a strange request, but I am such a sucker for both your merlin & sanders sides fic. If it strikes your fancy, I would love to see your rendition of an angst fic of a merlin au of sanders sides, with Virgil as merlin and a side of your choice as Arthur? I think the angst implications of that dynamic would be LOVELY – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: none
Pairings: anxceit
Word Count: 2455
This is the worst part, honestly. It's not the frantic churning in his gut when he uses his magic, it's not the icy dread of what happens right after when he's trying frantically to avoid suspicion, it's not even the looks he gets when there's a few too many knights looking at him.
It's when they're back in the safety of Janus's chambers and Janus is swanning around like he's the one that saved the day, and he takes the opportunity to get as many insults into Virgil as he can.
Now, Virgil knows he's lucky: Janus's famous acid tongue isn't actually as sharp as he thinks it is, and he's in the unique position of being able to snipe back at the Prince of Camelot, but…death by a thousand cuts and all that.
"Oh, and of course, Virgil, you'll have to have one of the knights help you with that, I know you'd rather cut off your own arm than actually wield steel."
"Now, don't get all excited, this won't be nearly as fun as changing my sheets, but do try to pay attention…"
"—and don't worry, you won't be anywhere near any of the action, you'll be far enough back that your delicate little fingers won't see any specks of blood."
Some of them hurt worse than others. He can stomach the ones about him being unfamiliar with the castle and the citadel at large—he's from a tiny village, for crying out loud—and the ones about him being weak aren't the worst—he's seen the knights, Roman and Remus are terrifying when they want to be—but the ones about him being a coward?
Sometimes he wants to scream at Janus that he's braver than Janus could ever dream of being. That he's here, in the heart of a kingdom that's sworn to kill every single one of his kind, serving the Crown Prince that is determined to see it through, and he's still fucking here. He hasn't run for the hills, he hasn't turned tail and cowered in Logan's chambers, he's still here, taking those fucking insults, and he's damn proud of it. And, also, he's the one who saved Janus's royal arse earlier, so a thank-you for that and all the other times he's had to do that since coming here would be appreciated.
But that would be tantamount to suicide, and he's too much of a coward to get himself killed like that.
He's surprised, honestly, that Janus doesn't choose to poke fun at his obvious fear of fire. It's not as though he's very good at hiding it, not with the way he flinches from candles and does everything he can not to be responsible for lighting the prince's fire at the beginning of the night. Even when they're out in the fucking woods, making all the noise and light for any bandit to see, he shies away from the fire and shivers in the cold. Those are the only times he thinks he sees something like concern flicker in Janus's eyes.
"Virgil? Are you listening to me?"
"No."
Janus rolls his eyes. "Are you capable of doing such a thing, or have you just managed to guess your way through most of your duties up until now?"
"It's not as though you make it particularly difficult, 'here, do this stupid thing, now do this other thing I'm just making you do because I can.' Not exactly sophisticated things, are they?"
"Oh, well, if you're such an expert, perhaps you should try being the prince for a day, see how you like it."
"No, no, my head's not nearly big enough."
He hears a small scoff that could be a laugh as he continues folding the prince's laundry—he was listening enough to know what Janus was telling him to do. There's a pause as the quill scratches across parchment before there's a telltale rustle of paper and he ducks just in time for it to land harmlessly on the bed in front of him.
"How honorable, attacking a man while his back is turned."
"Of course you think having a ball of paper thrown at you constitutes an attack."
He manages to disguise the tensing of his jaw by reaching for it. His fingers brush the crumpled edge, scoffing when he sees the list of chores. "I did half of these things this morning."
"Well, that's the wonderful thing about chores, Virgil, you have to keep doing them as people live their lives."
"Or, maybe you could try not taking up all the space in the world for once in your life."
"Careful, you're threatening the prince of Camelot."
"Only you would view being told to take up less space as a threat."
This time Janus throws a roll of bread and he doesn't turn around fast enough, stumbling backwards as it hits him in the forehead. He flails, trying to regain his balance, only to hit the curtains and get tangled. He can't see, he can't move, and he ends up falling right on his arse.
Right in front of a laughing Janus.
"Magnificent performance!" He hears clapping as he swallows down his humiliation. "If you were auditioning for the part of a jester, I'd hire you on that alone."
"Very funny," he mutters through gritted teeth, just barely resisting the urge to throw the bread back. Instead, he stuffs it in his pocket and goes about fixing the curtains.
"Oh, come on," Janus coos mockingly when he doesn't let him see his face for a long while, "don't be such a petticoat, Virgil. A little fall now and then's good for any man."
Virgil grits his teeth and says nothing.
This. These insults he'd rather not deal with. He's still shaky from earlier, his senses on high alert, and Janus thinks it's funny to scare him and make him flush and generally feel unsafe. Not something he needs right now, thank you very much. But could he say any of this out loud? No! He'd be opening himself up to even more insults, more mocking, more jeering at his sensitivity because what sort of person—no, what sort of man would he be if he tried to say that he felt uncomfortable? He'd be lucky if Janus didn't call in the others just to laugh at him.
"You don't need to sulk," comes Janus's voice again as he goes back to silently doing the laundry, "I thought we were past this."
He keeps his mouth shut. He puts the laundry back in the closet and turns to start fixing the bed. He hears Janus sigh.
"The silent treatment's a bit childish for you, isn't it?"
"I'm not giving you the silent treatment."
"He speaks!" He sees Janus throw his arms up out of the corner of his eye. "What a miracle this is."
"I can just shut up again."
"Words I never thought I'd hear you say. It's a wonder you're even capable of it."
See, he seethes internally, this is why I wasn't talking. You just take every word I say as an opportunity to insult me.
But it seems like Janus doesn't actually want him to shut up, so of course that's exactly what he does. He doesn't say another word as he finishes doing all the chores on the list, no matter how much Janus needles him, no matter how many things get thrown at him—he doesn't bother dodging them anymore, he just lets himself get hit and swallows whatever pain might come from having a metal cup collide with his shoulder—no matter how many times Janus stares at him waiting for him to say something. Instead, he waits until there's just about nothing else he can do to stop, fold his hands behind his back, and bow slightly.
"Is there anything else, sire," he mumbles in that polite voice he and Janus both hate, "or will that be all for the evening?"
"Alright, you've made your point," Janus grumbles, getting up from his desk, "now stop it."
"Stop what, sire?"
"Stop it," Janus barks. Virgil doesn't look up and he hears a muffled curse before heavy boots are tromping across the room.
It's just Janus. They're in his chambers. In all likelihood, he's just going to get cuffed across the shoulder or the ear and told to knock this off, told to get out so Janus can see him bright and early tomorrow. That's what always happens, that's probably what's going to happen, there's no need for Virgil to flinch.
But part of him is still on the muddy ground, a bandit roaring as an axe lifts high in the air above him. Part of him is still shivering as his magic acts without his permission and forcing him to scramble for cover to choke down the panic at possibly being discovered. Part of him is still cowering on the ground as heavy footsteps race over to him, sword drawn and flashing like a torch in the setting sun.
So, as much as he screams at himself not to, Virgil flinches.
The footsteps stop abruptly.
Slowly, so slowly it almost seems like a dream, he watches a hand raise and settle on the nape of his neck. The prince's gloves are soft and buttery leather, warmed by his touch and by riding in the late afternoon. The touch is so gentle for a moment he's not sure if he's imagining it, but then there's another hand under his chin.
"Virgil," the prince says, and Virgil reels at how soft Janus sounds, "what's going on?"
"What?"
"You're upset," and who the fuck is this and what the hell has he done with Janus, because Janus doesn't talk to him this softly and he certainly doesn't ask Virgil if he's upset, "are you still afraid because of what happened earlier?"
"No!"
Janus tuts, gently chucking him under his chin. "Don't lie to me, sweetie."
"What the fuck is going on?" Virgil jerks back, trying to break Janus's hold but the prince is strong—far stronger than him, and he barely moves. "What are you doing?"
"You're upset, I can tell. I'm trying to help."
"Why?"
Janus chuckles, only to realize Virgil is most certainly not laughing, and he sobers quicker than Virgil could've thought possible. "What do you mean, 'why?' You're my Virgil."
"I'm your what?"
"My Virgil. My disobedient, lazy, cowardly manservant Virgil—" which hurts, but Janus is saying them so tenderly they almost sound like endearments, which is making his head spin— "and you're upset, which means I have to fix it."
Virgil just stares at him, mouth opening and closing wordlessly until the hand on the back of his neck squeezes gently. Then a mortifying wounded noise escapes his lips and he buries his face in his hands.
"Hey, hey," Janus murmurs, stepping even closer, "none of that, now. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."
"I don't understand."
"You're safe. We're back in Camelot, there are no more bandits here. You're in my chambers, everything's alright." Fingers card gently through his hair. "Are you still embarrassed about falling earlier?"
"…you threw bread at me."
"I know. That wasn't very nice of me, was it?" Virgil shakes his head. "Is that why you're still upset with me?"
"You keep insulting me."
"That's what we do, sweetie—" and Virgil shudders at the pet name— "oh, hush, now, it's alright. Here, come here—"
And before Virgil can say or do anything, he's being swept up into a hug. An actual, certifiable hug from the Prince of fucking Camelot and it's warm and safe and fuck he's going to start crying—
"Hey," Janus says sternly when Virgil starts fidgeting in his hold, "settle down, now."
"Let go—let go—I'm gonna—"
"Shh-shh-shh, don't fight me. You're going to cry, is that it? Shh, hush, it's alright, none of that, I don't care—oh, for the love of—" he's spun around and pinned against the prince's chest with an arm around his chest and his waist, a mouth at his ear, "there, now I can't see, is that what you wanted?"
"J-Janus—" Virgil claws at his arm— "Janus, I didn't do anything, I didn't do it—"
"Shh, shh-shh-shh, take a deep breath for me, Virgil. Yes, just like that…that's it, calm down. I'm not angry. You're alright, you're safe, I'm not going to hurt you. Just let me hold you." Janus coaxes him down to the floor when his knees buckle, leaned back against his chest. "There…that's it, calm down, calm down. It's okay. Everything's okay."
"I don't under—understand," he manages, "I'm—I—you—"
Janus's thumb strokes carefully over his chest, still shushing him gently. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're upset, I should've known better than to tease right after something like that. You're safe, you have my word."
"I—" tears start to bubble at the corners of his eyes— "I—"
"Shh, don't try and speak right now," he says softly, pulling Virgil more into his lap, "just let it out."
And, well, he's not sure he's ever going to have the opportunity to bawl in the prince's hold ever again, so he's going to take advantage of it while he has it. Still, it takes him a moment to wrestle with the sheer amount of blackmail he's giving Janus in this moment before he's properly sobbing, knees drawn up to his chest and all, while soft words are murmured in his ears and a hand strokes comfortingly through his hair.
"That's it, you're alright. Shh, I know, that was frightening. It's over now, you're safe, I won't let anything happen to you."
"Jan—Janus—"
"Shh, shh, shh, I'm right here. I'm right here, Virgil, I'm not going anywhere."
This is the worst part, honestly, the part right after everything's over and Virgil has to get all of the fear out of his body before it can get him into even more trouble. But, when he's done crying, Janus will smile at him fondly and tease him gently about his nose being bright red, and he'll think that maybe, maybe it's not as bad as it could be.
Janus could know about his magic, after all.
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genericpuff · 1 year ago
Note
Since you have mentioned your own original webcomic has time travel, do you have any advice for people who want to make comics or simply write stories that deal with time travel?
Could be any kind of time travel, like time loops, characters traveling to the past/future, dealing with paradoxes, etc.
Short answer: don't LOL
Long answer: Obviously if you wanna tackle time travel, go for it, but the first and most important rule of any time travel is to establish your rules. How does the time travel work? And how will you commit to consistency?
Some basic time travel rule structures include:
Clone travelling - This is the most common form of time travel that's used the most. When you go back in time, your past self is present alongside your present self. Examples include Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Doctor Who, and Austin Powers.
Singular consciousness travelling - This is one I've only seen used a couple of times, and the only one I can think of off the top of my head is Life is Strange, but what I like to call 'singular consciousness travelling' is the form of time travel where instead of travelling to a point in the past, you return to a version of your past self, fully aware of the future that awaits you but 'stuck' within that past to live out the timeline in real time again. Though it's not as commonly used, it's one that will typically present less paradoxes as there are less moving parts to worry about. Prophecy storylines also use a similar philosophy to this, albeit without the literal time travel and more so 'time travel' via premonition (could we call Raven from That's So Raven a time traveller?)
Loops - This is a form of time travelling seen in media such as Groundhog Day, where a person continuously travels back to the same point in time over and over again to relive the same events until they can somehow break the loop.
There are loads more of time travel structures I could go over, but those are three of the most basic. Regardless of which structure you use, you have to be willing to commit to it. It's like choosing a writing perspective and tense, if you choose third person past tense ("he said, she said, they said"), then suddenly switching to first person present tense ("I say", "I do", "I feel") without any context to establish that switch will be jarring. Make your rules, and if you have to break them, make sure they're broken for the sake of the story (ex. if you present some sort of plot twist to reveal the 'true nature' of the time travelling plotline).
Here's a great video that goes over some different time travel plotlines from movies/books/etc.:
youtube
As for my original comic, we go for the time travel = multiverse theory approach, where any changes made to a timeline in a past state will not change that timeline's future, but rather, create a new timeline where those past changes are true and written into the script, essentially relegating every single new timeline to a parallel universe. This is essentially how it's done in Avengers: Endgame , but instead of characters abusing the laws of quantum physics to travel back in time, it's characters abusing a magical book of diary entries that are primarily used by the main character to help him control and guide his time travelling abilities. Every diary entry essentially serves as a roadmap for him to find his way back to his home timeline from which he disappears every time he jumps. Much of the story is written entirely atop a paradox, specifically the bootstrap paradox:
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(because if there are gonna be paradoxes no matter what you do, may as well have fun with them!)
There's a lot more I could go into regarding that, but for the sake of sparing the handful of Time Gate readers here of spoilers, Time Gate's laws of time travel dictate that you can't really change your past, just the future for other versions of you that you create when you try to change things.
All that said, I will say that in most cases, thinking too hard about any time travel story will cause it to fall apart, because time travel is a fictional trope that relies a lot on logical sequencing of events to work. So you kind of do just have to 'let it go' and have fun with it - but having rules to stick to will make things less of a headache for everyone, especially when it comes to telling a coherent story. Even my own criticisms of LO's time travel really don't matter in the end, because LO's problems go far deeper than some cheaply-made time travel and any of the time travel problems in the story will undoubtedly be explained away as "timey wimey shit". I'll still be pissed about it, but time travel isn't real (at least not for you) so it's not worth getting too bogged down by. Just do your best to tell an entertaining and coherent story.
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girlwiththoughts13 · 1 year ago
Text
Things I understand
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Dallas Winston x F!Reader
Warnings: None
Word count: 1k
~~~~~
I know there's a lot of things they think I don't know. Maybe it's because they think i'm too kid-ish or what not. But being 14 didn't mean I didn't understand the way things worked.
For example I knew Dallas Winston and my sister were ruined. Ruined for any other person than each other. Since the day Dallas blew into town at the ripe age of 13 and I saw his gaze (one that was frightening to say the least) land on my sister, I knew that was it.
She'd practically fly down stairs after a rumble and blow past all of us, her own brothers, to get to him. She'd grab him by his bloody hands and pull him into the bathroom. He'd sit on the toilet while she stood between his legs to dress his wounds. Dally would look up at her and just stare, I don't exactly know what he was thinking but I have a few ideas, ones that make me sick.
She'd say "I hate when you fight" he'd always respond with "I know, I won't anymore", Lie.
Or the way she'd stand by the phone gripping it with every bit of her strength, twirling the cord with her finger, giggling at whatever he said on the other side from bucks bar.
This was the way they were from the time they were 13 and 12, and now that they're 17 and 16.
Darry would usually have a problem with someone such as Dally being anywhere near his baby sister but there was too many years there, to much history, we trusted Dally with her, knew he'd take care of her no matter what. Knew he'd die for her. But boy when it rained it poured.
"God he's such an asshole, we're done Pony I swear, Done!"
"Was your sister born that way or was she dropped on her head"
I'd sit and listen to both of their complaints, knowing they'd get back together before anyone had anytime to even find out they'd broken up in the first place.
That's why seeing her—while I was lounging on the porch with Johnny waiting for Dally—show up with a boy I'd never seen before, made me start to sweat.
"Who's that with your sister?" Johnny didn't turn away from the pair in front of us who were whispering back and forth, all smiles and soft laughs.
"No clue"
"Well he better get out of here before Dal shows up" I shrug at him and wait for her to part with this strange greaser to begin the integration. All while praying silently that Dally doesn't suddenly decide to be diligent on time.
Finally she parts with the boy with a wave and he starts down the street. She watches him leave for a few seconds before turning to face us and begins her short walk to the porch. "Who was that?" I say, all authoritative like those cops that round up greasers by the lot.
"A boy from my homeroom, isn't he cute?" She sways her body back and forth her soft pink dress moving with the action, if you didn't know her you'd think she was a soc. "I don't think he'll be anything if Dal finds out" Johnny buds in. "Yeah he'll be here any minute" I add
"So? he's not the boss of me. We're over" She places her hand on her hip before nudging us roughly out the way to reach the door behind us. She turns quickly on her heel and says "You two better not tell him a thing, James is taking me out to the double tonight and I won't have Dally ruining that too". She doesn't wait for either of us to respond before she disappears into the house.
Me and Johnny look at each other, our faces turning into a grimace. "James? What kind of name is that"
"A stupid one" Dally's gruff voice cuts through the silence after the question and startles me for a second. What's that saying about the devil?
"Hey Dal, you all set?" Johnny asks, no doubt to distract Dally from asking a question, that we'd answer without meaning too. Dallas nods as he stares up ahead. "Aye Pony, your sister home?".
"Uh yeah, just got here" He nods once again and looks aways quickly, making his way toward the street. "She was pretty mad" I say. Dally chuckles and says "She'll get over it".
As we made are way around town, scaring kids, and crashing diners; just killing time before the movie later at night started, Dallas told us bits and pieces of their fight, nothing major. But then again none of their break up were ever serious. "What if she doesn't?" I ask.
"Huh?" Dally looks over at me, I don't know how my sister handles it but having Dallas Winston's full attention was scary. "What if she doesn't get over it?" I clarify. Dally looks down in thought and when he looks up again he has his dangerous face on. "She say somethin' to you?"
"N-no I was just wonderin ", I backtrack. "Yeah well stop wondering, once she stops being dramatic, we'll be fine". He seems to be convincing himself of this more than me or Johnny who's been silent since we pasted a group of socs.
We make it to the double and enter through the side. And to my excitement, sit behind Cherry and her friend, Marge? A cheerleader from our school that I guess you could say I had thing for. From the corner of my eye I could see my question earlier is still plaguing Dally and it was about to show in the worst way possible. I watch him lean forward and begin his way of flirting. Not that he even cared about Cherry or any other girl for that matter. This was just his way to get back some control that he felt he was losing.
"Are you a real redhead?" Cherry giggles at the question. Girls like her, socs who've been sheltered from the real world always want a tiny taste of something wrong. But everyone here knew that it'd never happen. That you could look as much as you want in a store and as long as you didn't buy anything, no foul.
Cherry would never buy anything.
I must of dozed off because the next second, Cherry is practically throwing Dallas off her. She was brave in the way she told him to shut his trap and made threats to call the police. I watch Dallas nuzzle his head into Cherrys shoulder, never one to take no as an answer. He wraps his arms over her as she struggles to break free. Somewhere along the line Dallas falters and then all at once stops and looks straight ahead. I follow his line of sight, and see my sister with James. They're lingering right outside of what I can only assume is his car.
Cherry notices the sudden switch and looks over her shoulder at Dallas to study his face because as much as she may deny, having his attention is fun and she knows as I do she could easily fall in love with him.
Dallas being silent is never a good thing. Without taking his eyes off the scene he asks "Who the hell is that?". I could see by the way his arms fell to his sides and his hands clenched into tight fists, he was about to burst. "James" I say. He looks over at me and then back. Not saying anything else he stands and begins to walk over.
"oh no" I whisper. Cherry turns her whole body toward me and asks "What happened?", I tell her the truth, "That's my sister and her and Dallas are complicated" That was the whole honest truth. We all look toward the oncoming conflict. I see Dallas shove 'James' out the way and grab my sister by the upper arm. Dragging her forward, all the while she tugs and leans her whole weight back to halt him. I could see her mouth moving a million miles per minute, no doubt cursing him up and down. Dallas just stops and turns and then takes the sides of her face in his hands and leans down to kiss her. One of his hands leave her face and go down to the small of her back to press her close, sightly lifting her off her feet.
When they part I see my sister smile, wide. Though his back is to us I know he mirrors her expression. They begin walking back to us. Dallas wraps his arm around her shoulders, her left hand resting around his waist while the right reaches up to hold his dangling hand.
"Tell Darry I'm staying at Bucks tonight"
Ruined once again.
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