#I loved the previous one but it was difficult to really see her face on some screenshots
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fia: summer edition
turtleneck with sweater / jeans / sandals / hat / earrings / ring (bg)
dress / shoes / bracelet / rings
dress / heels / earrings / scarf / bracelet 1 / bracelet 2 / rings / socks
overalls / boots / hat / earrings / watch / socks (bg)
hoodie / biker shorts / shoes / socks
jumpsuit / shoes / earrings / bracelets / rings
hair / nails
#ts3#ts3 lookbook#ts3 edit#gameplay: bones#I have decided to change her hairstyle#I loved the previous one but it was difficult to really see her face on some screenshots#also my dof was going crazy with all the strands making it look v flat sometimes#I was literally running around the internet like crazy trying to find new hairstyle for her lmao#bones g1
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blorbos from my brain
#beloved villainxcivilian wip. i need to draw you#post unrelated to previous few. mostly#if anyone's reading this post and curious: vague superhero/villain-containing setting; mc is a woman who gets out of a shit relationship#w a local hero by selling his work laptop to a local villain and using the money to flee the province/whatever with her cat & suitcase.#gets set up w a tiny apartment. barely leaves. severe anxiety that she's gonna be tracked down by either her ex or the villain to tie up lo#loose ends#eventually unwinds enough to leave; takes a 3rd shift at an ancient tiny library with old archives#local supervillain (not that she knows at first) becomes a repeat visitor looking over the old city blueprints and hwhatnot on file#eventually unwinds enough to start a mayyybe situationship#he's not blind she's clearly very distrusting n nervous even if she's got a crazy good customer service face so he's very slow abt it#lets her set the pace of whatever they're doing#which simultaneously reassures her and makes her nervous#because it could be a mask. it could be a trap. she literally has no way to really know#gets worse when the truth about his profession comes out#mental breakdown. lots of yelling. butter knife brandished like a weapon (<- taken very seriously)#once shit settles a lot of time is dedicated to figuring out how they want to continue this. if they want to#given that there is realistically a crazy power dynamic between them. she's an immigrant who had to uproot herself from literally everyone#and everything she knows and has; has no support system in a country she is technically not legally supposed to be in;#he is very influential; having both notable scores of money socked away and a potentially a mole in the local policing force#if he wanted to make her disappear in one way or another it would not be difficult for him#much how her ex was becoming. extremely overbearing so to speak#so Yah trying to navigate that. very serious discussions if they can make that work out or if they should split#bc i want a happy ending i think they make it work! not sure about the specifics but theyre good#i think he doesnt realize how badly shes fucked up until at some point after The Breakdown he puts together that she's the reason the hero#in a few provinces away got completely Fucked by the local villain scene#and putting that together with her severe anxiety and not-great living situation. why she would've possibly done that#anyways. the inspiration for this all was mostly out of distaste for most of the romantasy books i have to see in various fandom tags#male love interest who doesn't really respect boundaries VS. m.l.i. who is extremely respectful of boundaries while managing to remain a vi#villain by the laws of the genre/setting/otherwise plot#(and asking the question of what does villainy mean in this context)
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For the touched starved scenarios maybe Logan with "hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters ^^ the other notices so they pull them into a hug, smiling as they just watch them melt"?? I think it would be so cute with logan finally breaking his own barriers, reaching out to the one he adores (or*cough* is very much in love with *cough*) bc HE doesnt realize how touch starved he is and becomes slightly nervous at initiating contact at first😫
how it lingers
a/n: have i shoved this into the small world i made with the previous ask from this list? probably. but they're just so cute and i'm in love. plus just the fact that reader is also probably really timid to initiate contact with him physically. but logan finally reaching out for touch (cause he's so starved for it), and getting a response such. just let this man be happy and in love.
summary: when affection is coupled with pain logan learns it's not worth asking for. what does he need with it? but a difficult mission has him seeking the warmth of a lover in the arms of a friend.
word count: 0.7k
pairing: logan howlett x reader
warnings: fluff, blooming romances, the start of a relationship, soft logan.
It happens after a mission gone wrong. Tension hung thick in the air when the X-Men entered the front entrance, their suits charred and ripped, faces lined in pinched frowns that said far more than they wished. Logan hung back on the porch, smoking the cigar to appease the growing anxiety building in his chest. He'd never been a fan of the crowd this group accumulated—especially not when kids were involved.
But somewhere in the throng of people stood you, waiting with hope in your chest and a light in your eyes that beckoned him closer. Charles held your attention for a moment, Jean meandering over to explain in grave detail what exactly happened. You did your best to cling to every word. Even as your mind wandered to the man still stuck outside—his hands curled into fists and eyes shut to the rest of the world.
"We aren't sure what happened," Jean mumbled, a dazed expression glossing over her eyes. "If it wasn't for Logan well…Scott and I wouldn't be standing here."
The echo of his name shot through your heart—his pain bleeding into your veins the longer you stood there listening to Jean explain what happened. He saved them. He was the hero. So why was did he remain outside? Entirely separated by the people who would happily welcome him in—the ones he silently considered family.
"Is he hurt?" you asked hesitantly, entirely aware of his healing capabilities.
Nothing could hurt the Wolverine.
Not physically anyways.
Jean shrugged, fatigue settling over her face in a darkened cloud that might take days to pass. "He's…Logan."
Which meant he was taking this time to shove away emotions he didn't want to feel—things that would wreak havoc on his mind. He pushed down things he didn't want to feel; the parts of himself that left him with the bitter taste of fear on the back of his tongue. So he smoked to distract himself and left everything else up to the rest of the team.
He found it was easier to mull over his actions alone. Safer.
You tuned out the remainder of the conversation, eyes catching on the subtle shift of the crowd as Logan finally made his way inside. He clung to the wall in the hopes of going unnoticed. A familiar act of self preservation he often grew fond of at times like this. He never liked being the center of attention—why would that change solely because of one mission?
“I’ll meet you guys later.” Their responses went directly over your head, your body drawn to the man who attempted to vanish into the corner beside a plant desperate for more water.
“Bub,” he greeted, arms crossed at his chest—face turned away from your welcoming smile, from the warmth you tried offering to keep the darkness at bay.
“They said you saved them.”
He grunted, eyes flicking back to see your shoulder slump forward an inch. Barely noticeable to others in the area, but Logan clung to every slight shift of your body. Each look and half hearted smile. He tucked them into his chest in the hopes of one day wiping them away. All the stress of being a professor, of choosing to get to know a man who barely spoke more than a few words at a time.
His hand tugged at the sleeve of your cardigan softly. Barely a brush against your arm, but the grin you gave in return lit a fuse he didn’t know resided at the back of his heart. Over the years he understood what connection meant. How to form them, why he should. But staying in solitude favored him best; he couldn’t hurt anyone if he avoided them.
Until you offered him a smile bleeding enough warmth to soothe his aching heart.
A silent agreement passed between your eyes, loud enough to echo in the back of his mind as your arms curled around his neck. And with a blissful sigh filled with contentment, he melted into your touch, hands clasping around your back—arms tight and strong across your waist. Logan hugged you with his whole body, a swathing blanket of heat that poured out of him and enveloped you in love.
“Thanks bub,” he mumbled into your shoulder, head ducked as he shifted back to the corner—still tightly wound around your body.
You smiled, burrowing your face in the soft leather of his jacket. “Anytime Logan.”
#this has been sitting in my drafts for too long#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett#my writing
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In father’s embrace
synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.
pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s
word count: 5.2k words
a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!
Blade
Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.
The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.
Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".
As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.
Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.
Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.
With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.
He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.
It’s soothingly silent.
It almost reminds him of the past.
“For how long will you be staying this time?
Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions.
These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.
“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.
“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.
The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.
“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”
A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.
“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.
Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.
Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.
Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.
But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.
Gepard
A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.
It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.
Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.
After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.
You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.
Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.
The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.
Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…
When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.
Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.
Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.
Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.
“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”
“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?
“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”
“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.
When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.
His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.
“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.
“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”
“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”
“Serval, you what?”
“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”
“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”
“This little-”
Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.
Loucha
To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.
It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.
Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.
And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.
When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.
Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.
Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.
Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies.
The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior.
More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.
It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.
At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.
“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.
“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”
Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.
“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”
“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”
“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.
“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”
“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”
“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”
“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”
“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”
You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.
“Thank you, Y/n.”
“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.
“For everything.”
He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace.
Sampo
In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.
But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?
Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.
And boy did that “hehe” change your life.
That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.
That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.
And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.
Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.
That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.
That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.
From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.
You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.
Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.
Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.
Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?
And soon enough you find it out.
“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”
“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”
There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.
But that’s not what exactly concerns you.
“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.
“Yes, mommy!”
“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”
And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.
“Sometimes I really hate you.”
“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”
“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”
Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.
“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.
“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.
“...Pa-mpo?”
“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”
“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”
And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.
“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”
“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”
“Don’t even dream of it.”
Jing Yuan
Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.
He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.
For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.
The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.
Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.
And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…
“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.
“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”
“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.
“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”
You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.
“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”
“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”
“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”
To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.
“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”
“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”
“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”
“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.
In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace.
“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.
“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.
“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”
“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.
You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#blade x reader#blade x fem!reader#gepard x reader#gepard landau x reader#gepard x fem!reader#loucha x reader#loucha x fem!reader#sampo x reader#sampo koski x reader#sampo x fem!reader#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x fem!reader#honkai star rail fluff#hsr fluff
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Hi, Could you write more about semi x fem reader, maybe the reader helps her not to get murdered? I love semi a lot but there aren't many fanfics about her🥺😭 please
ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ preventing her untimely demise┊0.6k words
setting: season 2, episode 7 contains: canon-typical violence & murder, sorry nam-gyu fans, it’s one or the other, friends to lovers
➤ author's note: i was so mad when she died, why do the squid game writers hate lesbians
it’s difficult to see anything going on with the bright white fluorescent lights constantly flickering, but the sound of screams piercing through the night was enough to tell you that the “special game” had started and it was dangerous to remain in bed. you watched as one of the women next to you cried out in terror as a man used a broken bottle to stab at her chest,, and you immediately jumped out and hit the floor running before he could turn his sights on you.
the first people who came to your mind to search for where your allies were to make sure they were alright, particularly min-su and se-mi whom you’ve become close over the past few days and knew would be targets of their previous group after voting to leave.
you heard her familiar voice yelp in surprise just a little ways from you, the same voice that so often threw compliments at you like they didn’t fluster you so bad you wanted to hide under the blanket and comforted you when you cried about the people who lost their lives earlier that day when everyone else was asleep, sending you into a panic.
as resilient as se-mi was, she was no match to overpower nam-gyu physically as you watched him corner her against the wall, his bloodlust so powerful you could almost smell it with one of the forks given out during dinnertime in hand. you could see a glint of red shining off the metal, indicating that it was already used to take a life.
a glass bottle suddenly came in between them, shattering against the concrete floor. you didn’t even bother to look up, just seizing the opportunity to jump the man from behind and trying to steal the silverware from his grip while he was still in shock. while you couldn’t fully take it from him, you did manage to knock it out of his hands.
you were smaller than him, but you used all of the strength in your body to keep him pinned down once se-mi kicked him in the stomach and picked up the utensil. without hesitation, she began to repeatedly stab him in the neck with it, over and over again, both of you ignoring his pleas and screams knowing that he would have done the same to her without so much as batting an eye. you only got off him when he stopped squirming under your grasp, ignoring the blood that splattered all over your hands, clothing, and face.
it hasn’t hit you yet that you just held a man down for her to murder and you’re sure the guilt will consume you later, but all that matters is that both of you have survived to see another day together. you’ve never been so happy to see those damn guards in their hot pink uniform, even if they were shortly taken down in a matter of minutes to steal their guns for the planned player revolt. both of you
neither of you were allowed to join due to a lack of experience with firearms and being women, but due to the clear determination in your eyes, they did leave a walkie-talkie to call for backup if they needed it.
once the shots fell quiet and were no longer ringing in your ears, se-mi looked at you with a little smile on her face and reached out to caress your face, “you know, i always thought you were really pretty, but i think you look kinda sexy with the blood everywhere.”
“do you really?”
“of course, i do, but we really should wash up”
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Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered The Door
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter one of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 3.6K
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 2
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Present Day
Your head rests against your forearms on your desk, jerking upwards as a loud rhythmic knocking assaults the front door of your apartment.
What?
You think to yourself, rubbing your face with your hands. Your sketchpad was laid open on your desk beneath your head, the rough sketch of an egret bowing its head along the bank of a small pond splayed over the page in shades of gray. It would be the first in your new series of nature paintings that you would be unveiling in a month.
At least I didn't poke my eye out with the pencil. You think eyeing the sharpened point of the pencil that was dangerously close to your face a few seconds ago.
You turn your wrist to glance at your watch and note the time. It was an antique, square faced and strung on a simple black band, a reminder of a past life that you couldn't bear to part with.
Who would come see me at 8:00 am on a Monday?
For a minute you try to remember if you'd received a call from the curator of the gallery downtown, or if there had been a meeting or a lunch with your agent to discuss your next installment of work, but nothing comes to mind.
When you officially retired from being a hero you decided to become a full time artist, a hobby you had since you were a child. You hadn't expected it explode. You had enough money from your heroing career to live several lifetimes, not unwelcome given the fact that you couldn't die, not in the traditional sense at least, so art was supposed to just be a way for you to off steam. But you were happy with your life now, a lot happier than you had been when you were a hero on Payback. The thought of your previous employment with Vought sours in your mouth followed by the unavoidable thought of Ben that you push down with a well practiced sigh.
You didn't feel like reliving all that over again right now, though you knew it would probably happen later. It came in waves, especially at night when you found it difficult to sleep, the melatonin wasn't working, and all you really wanted was a hard drink.
Sobriety sucked.
The knocking persists, rattling around in your head like a bee trying to get out of a plastic cup.
"Fine. I'm coming." You shout standing up from your desk and making your way from the wall that serves as your studio towards the front door of your apartment, while trying to rub away the line the page made on your cheek.
Your apartment was the one extravagance you allowed yourself. Despite the amount of money you had, flashing it had never been a priority even in your hero days. The apartment was open concept with exposed brick walls, tall North facing windows that angled away from the inside and jutted outward over a raised wooden floored area that served as your studio. A large modern kitchen sat just to the right of the front door with stainless steel appliances, on another wall a tv hung above a leather couch and held a dark hallway that lead to your bedroom and the guest bedroom, the other walls were covered in your work, and the final wall held several bookshelves with art supplies and your vinyl record collection. A collection you started forever ago and that continued to grow with each passing year.
Need to get another bookshelf. You note looking at the limited space that remained.
You look through the peep hole in the solid metal apartment door. A tall dark haired man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a black duster and a thin younger guy with brown curly hair stare back at you.
"I don't want to buy any girl scout cookies." You shout through the heavy metal of the door.
The younger guy snorts.
"y/f/n y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks an accent tilting the ends of his words.
"Who's asking?"
He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."
At the mention of Ben's hero name you pause. You had avoided thinking about your former best friend as much as possible over the past forty years. Your relationship with Ben was complicated, the final few days you spent together even more complicated than the early years.
It hurt to compare what your life with him was like before you both became supes to the life you had together after. You had grown up together, forced into close proximity because your parents were friends and then became best friends yourselves. You stayed friends, before you both got injected with Compound V and a few years later moved on to Payback together. You were the only person able to keep Ben in check and as violent as his temper was, he didn't like to cross you. You were the only person who knew the real him, had been with him longer than anyone else. Not that he ever admitted that to you or admitted that he cared about you, but you thought somewhere deep down that he had to, felt at least something for you.
That was the problem. You were in love with him, cared deeply about him, cared more about him than anyone else you'd ever had in your life. On the night you finally slept together you were happy, you thought he felt the same way, and then the next day at his premiere you found him in the bathroom with Countess bent over a sink. The fight that followed had been your resignation from Payback and also the reason why you weren't there when Ben died.
Your jaw clenches together at the memory, followed by guilt. You were always there for him, you had his back just as he had yours, but the one time you hadn't been there-
You open the door to look at them. "The singer?"
"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.
"The artist? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."
“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.
You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua. Both of you were standing in your supe suits, your own was a sleeveless black one piece suit with purple embellishments that traced from the sides of your ankles and stretched up under your armpits, while a dark hood covered your head and a black mask hid the bottom of your face. You always thought you looked more like a supervillain in it, but you were thankful that it hid your identity. It was so long ago, but you still remember that night clearly. The ridiculous movie, the afterparty where everyone was so tipsy and the smell of alcohol burned against your nose, and finally when you went to the bathroom and found Ben and Countess together, the immeasurable rage followed by heartbreak that you felt when you saw them. Not to mention the fight that followed when Ben trampled all over your heart and stated that you meant nothing to him.
“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.
“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.
“Yeah. Indigo? I mean y’all can come in if you want-“ You open the door wider, understanding that they won't leave, before you begin to move towards the kitchen. “I apologize in advance. I’m not quite myself, I was up late working.” You pause halfway into the kitchen. “I’m going to make some coffee, you guys want some?” You eye the man in the black coat. "Or tea?"
“Coffee is fine."
You find the coffee filters and shuffle through the cupboards to find a bag of coffee, still trying to wake up. Staying up late wasn't unusual for you. You tended to find the urge to create in the wee hours of the morning, not to mention everything that happened in the past kept you up.
You open the bag of coffee to smell the grounds, thinking that it will wake you up, but as soon as you do the smell of Agent Butcher and Agent Campbell washes over you.
You could smell the compound V in their veins pumping through their bodies with every beat of their hearts.
So, they're supes. You think to yourself, pouring the grounds into the coffeemaker. Which means they probably aren't from the CIA.
Despite the realization, you weren't worried. Your particular ability was a well-kept secret, a secret that only Ben knew despite you being on Payback. Stan Edgar and the others had believed that "Indigo," the hero name assigned to you, had enhanced strength and senses, but it was more than that. You had an ability that, if brought to the public, would probably land you in a government facility. Laying low had it's perks, your freedom was one of them.
You watch them begin to walk around your living room examining the artifacts of your new life, the one you crafted when everything fell apart. There wasn't anything in the living room to arouse suspicion that you were the original Indigo. The only remnants of your past life that remained were in a wooden trunk at the back of your walk in closet, hidden behind a collection of paint splattered overalls almost identical to the pair you were wearing right now.
"You've got a nice place." The younger guy says looking around.
"Thanks. It's rent controlled. I got lucky-" You fiddle with the coffeemaker to buy yourself some time.
Why were they here to ask me about Ben? It had been 40 years, hardly seems relevant now. And why were they pretending to be CIA?
"You're an artist?" Agent Butcher asks, staring at the canvas sitting on an easel by your desk. It was a collection of multicolored dark greens that swirled together, flecked with pieces of gold that shone in the brilliant sunlight from the wall of windows where your studio was.
"Yeah. And I tend to paint my best at night. Hence the coffee" You turn, placing your hands on the island to face the two men.
“You’re really good.” Agent Campbell says examining some of the canvases on the wall.
“Thanks.”
“So your mum eh?” Agent Butcher turns to look at you. You note the smirk on his face and incredulous raising of his brow.
He doesn't believe me. Hard not to. I don't age.
“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow to challenge him
“You look a lot like her.”
“Thanks. I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere.” You look from Butcher to the younger guy who has moved on to look at your vinyl collection. "And I'm pretty sure that most kids look like their parents. But I'm not a geneticist."
"NO WAY! You have a signed copy of Billy Joel's Glass House!" Agent Campbell shouts holding up the vinyl cover in awe.
"Yeah." You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"How did you-“
"Hughie." Agent Butcher sighs.
The younger guy now identified as Hughie puts the record back with a frown, before turning back to the collection.
“But you have the same name.” Agent Butcher's eyes flit to yours.
“She named me after herself. I’m sure the CIA can locate my birth certificate."
“Right.” Agent Butcher smiles, but it’s tight lipped.
You stand there for another minute looking from Agent Butcher to Hughie, trying to think of why they're here. "So what do you want to know?”
“Well is your mum around-“
You allow your shoulders to droop and take in a shaky breath. "She died about a year ago. Cancer."
They weren't the first to come here and accuse you of being Indigo. Legend and you had come up with the farce to protect you, help you start over, but you hadn't wanted to part with your name. So other precautions were put in place: a funeral plot was purchased and a death certificate was issued as was a fake passport, I.D, and birth certificate that made you thirty two rather than over one hundred.
“Really? I thought Indigo-“ It’s enough to make Hughie turn around and look at you.
“Don’t read everything Vought says." You interrupt. "That experimental shit they put in her veins may have made her powerful, but it couldn’t protect her from that.” You sigh again to sell the lie, before turning to the coffee maker, to pour them and yourself a cup. "There should be some milk in there, sugar's in the bowl." You gesture to the refrigerator and the small blown glass sugar bowl on the counter next to the coffee maker.
Hughie moves into the kitchen to pour himself a cup, but Agent Butcher continues to eye you suspiciously.
“It wasn’t in the news.” He grunts.
“They covered it up pretty well. I mean do you blame them? One of the first supes gets killed by something like cancer. Can’t be good for Vought given they pride themselves on showcasing unstoppable heroes. I mean can you imagine if Homelander or Queen Maeve died of something like cancer? Doesn’t look good.” You shrug your shoulders and take a sip from the coffee in your hands. “What did you want to talk to her about?”
“Soldier Boy.” Butcher moves to the coffeemaker and it takes a strong amount of willpower to stop the urge to turn towards him, but you know that you need to act indifferent.
“Did she talk to you at all about him?” Hughie moves to one of the bar stools on the opposite side of the island with his coffee in front of him.
“Yeah.” You look down at the mug with a sigh, rolling the warm glass between your hands. “He really did a number on her. Plus towards the end she started seeing him everywhere."
The emotion that you summon is not fake. You allow a small amount to trickle over the dam you built to protect yourself from falling back into the pit you fell into when Ben broke your heart and then died. When you broke every piece of glass in your apartment and threw your couch through the wall.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Hughie looks sincere when he says it.
Why is someone like him hanging out with this guy? You think to yourself eyeing Agent Butcher again.
“It’s been hard. But I took care of her, sometimes it was only me. It’s kind of hard to restrain an 103 year old with super strength.” You smile to yourself at the joke.
“So you’re a supe?” Hughie takes a sip from his coffee mug.
“No I was just able to talk her down. Guess that first batch of Compound V doesn’t work the same way. Never transferred. Plus my dad wasn’t a supe so maybe it just diluted.” You shrug, the lies weaving easily through the air.
“But she did talk to you about him?” Agent Butcher presses. He's leaning against the counter to your left.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“I mean what do you want to hear? There’s a lot.” The mug sends a pleasant warmth through your hands as you hold it, but does little to stop the chill of the past from creeping up your spine.
“Start at the beginning.”
“Well.” You take another sip of coffee. “I don’t know details-details but- I just know that she grew up with him, they were from the same neighborhood in Philadelphia. All that shit they made up about Soldier Boy being from a poor family was just propaganda. His dad owned half the steel mills in the state of Pennsylvania. Used to invest in property with my grandfather. Soldier Boy and my mom were friends. When he got the Compound V shot, she did too. They were looking for female and male volunteers. I think he asked her to? Or-“ You shrug your shoulders to push away the memory of the day Ben told you about the experiments. When he told you he was finally going to make something of himself and convinced you to go with him.
“They were dating?” Agent Butcher asks.
The question makes you pause. It was difficult to think about that, difficult to relive the memories of Ben continuing to push you away and his final refusal to admit he loved you. Ben never did say that to you. You had been through so much together, so many years as friends and then after the night you finally were together he threw you away like you meant nothing.
“No, but he really hurt her-“ You avoid their gaze.
“What did he do?” Hughie asks leaning forward on the counter.
“They had been through a lot together and I think when their friendship began to transfer to relationship he pushed her away. My mother said something about him refusing to admit he loved her. I think the last straw when she caught him with Countess.”
“Do you know anything about how he died?”
The memory of the phone call strikes you in the chest, when Stan Edgar himself called to tell you Ben was dead. When the darkness swallowed you whole and all you felt was guilt and heart break over the fight you had and how you left him alone when he needed you most.
“It hurt my mother a lot. Broke her. She never really got over him, no one was good enough, not even my dad. She drove him away too and then it was just us.”
“Was she there when Soldier Boy died?” Hughie spins the coffee mug in his hands.
“No. She left Payback before that mission. It was right after she caught Countess and him together.” You force a shrug. “I think she regretted not being there. She was almost as indestructible as him, but I think she felt worse because they had a big fight right before.”
“So she didn’t know about Nicaragua or the thing that killed him?” Agent Butcher raises an eyebrow.
You cock your head to the side feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Soldier Boy got vaporized in a nuclear explosion.”
“Well I think we’ve wasted enough of your time.”
They get up to leave.
“Wait-“
Agent Butcher turns to look at you.
“Why are you asking me about him? It's been what? Forty years since he died-"
"That's classified love. Thank you for your time."
You watch them leave, but listen to them as they walk down the hallway.
“So do you believe her?” Hughie’s voice echoes in your ears.
“Not a bit. Maybe we trail her for a day. See if she really is an artist." Agent Butcher grunts. "At least until we go to Russia."
Russia? Why would they go to Russia?
You stand there for a second, holding the coffee mug in your hands. As you do the memories of the past 90 years wash across your mind, breaking through the damn that you built to protect yourself.
You were friends for years. You loved him since the moment you met. There were good times before the serum and then the bad, when he got famous and you were there to keep him in check. Sure you may have annoyed him, but he liked that about you, that you were able to bring him back from the edge. The day you finally had sex you remembered it, it was special, or you thought it was. You were excited that finally he loved you as much as you loved him. But then it all fell apart. That fight hadn’t been pretty. When you left him you felt yourself begin to slip, you didn’t eat or drink for days and when you finally got the phone call you thought it was him trying to apologize, but it was Stan.
You think again about Russia and finally your mind drifts to Countess.
She was the one that said that the Russians killed Ben, she saw it happen, saw his body get taken away-
Your jaw clenches together in anger and frustration as you remember the last time you saw her, when she taunted you and you almost ripped off her head. You never heard it directly from her that Ben was dead, only heard it from Stan. Of course the ridiculous funeral for Ben that you were expected to go to would mean that you saw her, but you hadn't gone, didn't want to keep up the charade. Instead you went to Philadelphia and walked the streets aimlessly with a bottle of whiskey in your hand, remembering what it was like when you were kids. Sometimes you think it all would have been different if you never got the injection, if you said no when he showed up in your bedroom and asked you to come with him. He was your oldest friend. The only real person you'd ever loved or cared about. The memory of the fight rings in your ears but you push it down.
You think again about Countess. She was the reason why Ben and you had the fight. The reason you weren't there in Nicaragua. Regret spikes in your chest. You should have been there that day, should have tried to save him. You always had each others backs and the one time you weren't there he died.
Maybe it was time to pay her a visit.
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Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373
#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#the boys#the boys fanfic#soldier boy#the boys amazon#jensen#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy fic#soldier boy fanfiction#jensen ackles#the boys series#the boys season 3
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Always Prey But Never A Bird
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Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series
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Previous Chapter <- Chapter Six -> Next Chapter
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The halls of the museum felt like a trap of a maze, the walls squeezing on you as you walked through them, you on your now fiancé’s arm as you viewed the art galleries and exhibits and all while avoiding your family members that you spotted in the halls, but you still felt their judgment and glares, the only two who were not there were Jason and Cassandra, must have been covering the patrols and well you remember Jason did not really attend these things since his whole dying thing sort of made public appearances rather difficult for him. You spotted Dick and Barbara in the Greek and Roman art exhibit, when Dick spotted you he looked like he was about to cry and Barbara held onto his hand, keeping him from breaking out into a whole scene and panic attack. You spotted Tim holding Damian by the back of his suit jacket when he spotted you with you future husband in the modern art hall, remembering the first time he saw you and your boyfriend making out in the back stairwell of your old high school, he nearly gave him a concussion when he slammed Gabriel against the wall and threatened his life, god can only imagine what he would do now. Stephanie was with Bruce, you spotted them soon after your arrival near the entrance hall of the museum, whispering in hushed tones most likely about you. You had yet to see Duke, but you could bet he was somewhere around here, he was somewhat newer to the family, coming around when you were around ten and have been living in the manor for two or three years and he was around sixteen, but certainly he was no different from the rest of them, his tendencies just hidden better.
You stood sat on one of the benches in the European art hall, a flute of champagne in your hand as your eyes viewed over one of the paintings by Gustav Klimt, an Austrian painter, you remembered it was your mother’s favorite painting which was visiting the museum, the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I. You felt the weight of the bench shift as your fiancé came to sit down behind you after conversing with a few colleagues of his family’s business.
“My mother would have loved seeing this again.” You said, your head not even turning in to look at him, just fixed on the painting. “My mom took me to see it in its home exhibit in Neue Galerie New York and we just sat and looked at it for hours, I was six but I have never felt more stunned at something.”
“Maybe we can invite her to the wedding… if she can come.” He said, his hand resting on top of your free hand on your thigh. “But dove… there are some people who want to talk to you.”
“Gabriel, I really don’t want to see my family right now-“
“It’s not your father.” Your fiancé’s words caught your attention and you looked at him to see him gesture to someone standing in the surprisingly empty archway of the exhibit entrance. A slight feeling of shock formed in your chest as you saw a blonde haired man in another of one of those expensive suits.
“Mr. Queen… It has been awhile.” You forced yourself to stand up and walk towards the face you knew well, the billionaire Oliver Queen, known to few as the Green Arrow, a member of the Justice League, and someone who has known you for years. “I thought you would be back in Star City, not here.”
“I’m sponsoring one of the exhibits tonight, an appearance from me was sort of called for.” He reached out his arm for you to take, glancing back at your fiancé. “May I borrow her? My congratulations on your engagement by the way.”
“Thank you, Mr. Queen, and yes you may just bring her back.” With Gabriel’s words you took Oliver’s arm and the two of you walked further into the mostly empty gallery, only a person or two lingering about but they were either drunk or two far away to hear your conversation.
“You’re not just here for the exhibit, coming across the country just for this and leaving Star City.” You spoke to him, your mind snapping back to the warning Talia gave you a few weeks prior, something was happening and it was even bigger than you thought. “This is League business, isn’t it? Who else is here?”
“You sound like your old man, you know that right?” You shot a glare at Oliver after he said that, which made him regret that comment. “You are right, at the moment it is just your dad, my wife, and myself here, a few others are on call at the moment in case anything goes south.”
“Let me guess, Kent and Allen? They are the only two fast enough to get here in time.”
“Right again, but chances are it is not that extreme, something we can keep isolated to just Gotham.” You watched Oliver look down at you and a sigh escaped his lips. “I heard about what you have been up to during these last few years, Barbara was talking about it with Dinah and Helena.”
“Now they know, great…” You sighed, now it was not long before the Bird of Prey got involved with this as well, though you doubt someone like Helena or Selina would give you much trouble, especially since Selina Kyle was friends with your mother. “Look I really don’t want to get in your way or their way, so I just really don’t want to start any trouble with any of them.”
“Trouble, you based your style off of Dinah, she could not feel more flattered.” You did in fact base your style of your suit off of the famous heroine, albeit a more modest version since your family would be more disappointed if you dressed entirely like her. “I think the press also picked up on that, that’s where Songbird came from, right?”
“Ya… I didn’t think about it like that…” You paused, you had thought it was only from the press thinking you were involved with the Batman, Robin, Nightwing, bird and bat named heroes. You had never thought that it was actually linked to the one who inspired you, your own hero and idol, Black Canary. “I thought it was just linked to, you know, my old man… I don’t think I mind it as much after hearing that.”
“I thought that would be the case.” He laughed and you felt his arm slip away from yours, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “I have been watching the work you have been doing recently, if you want to do this then you have an ally with Dinah and myself. If Gotham does not suit you, I’m sure we would be happy enough to work with you in Star City.”
“Thanks… that means a lot.” You said to him, glancing from his eyes to where Gabriel waited on the plush leather bench. “But I think I’ll stay in Gotham for a while, I have a few more things to do, but thank you, I’ll be in touch.”
______________________
You were back on Gabriel’s arm after your conversation with Oliver Queen, walking off to the main hall of the museum, your head leaning against his shoulder as if protecting you from your family approaching you, along with that there were so many people that were around you all that they prevented someone, Damian mostly likely, from making a scene.
“Congratulations on your engagement.” You heard a familiar voice chime from behind you, you both turned around to see the face of Mr. Austen, he was holding his little sister on his hip, all while wearing a pastel pink suit that she picked out no doubt. You had mentioned to Gabriel that Mr. Austen was your and your friend’s sponsor, so it was no surprise that he knew your identity. “Would you mind if I borrowed you two for a moment?”
“Of course, in private I assume?” Mr. Austen nodded to your question and you immediately knew that this was a matter that involved vigilante business. You glanced at Gabriel and tugged him forward, following Mr. Austen as he led you back through the building, past the crowds, and all the way back to the storage room for closed exhibits, an area that no doubt had a basement with all the pieces this place had which had to be kept under tight security. Mr. Austen opened the storage door with a skeleton keycard, he glanced back at Gabriel and smiled. “My company made the security for the place, one of the only reasons it has not been ransacked.”
“Big brother is so smart!” His little sister added in which drew a chuckle from all of the adults present. You all stepped into the large room and when he was about to close the door behind you all a foot stopped it from closing and your heart skipped at the sight of your father pushing the door open, her persona and face he forces for the public completely gone.
“A-ah… Mr. Wayne, now is not a good time-“
“I need to talk to my daughter.” Your father interrupted Mr. Austen and something with that ticked you off, you shot a glare at your father which made a scowl form on his face.
“I have work to do father, whatever you want will have to wait.” You looked back at Mr. Austen and nodded for him to continue. “Please go on.”
“Right… as you know my company handles most of the security in the city, including Arkham Asylum, there was a security breach, not a breakout… yet.” You watch him pull out a small case from a pocket sewn in on the inside of his suit. “Clove is handling a situation with who I assume to be the Riddler down by the Dixon Docks and Henbane, Nettle, and Foxglove are shutting down one of Black Mask’s drug trade…”
“So I’m the only one who can handle it because I am fully recovered, got it.” You paused, glancing at your father who was still listening intently to your conversation, it felt like at any moment he was going to drag you out and all the way back to the manor so you will never be put into danger again. “Two things though, I don’t have my suit and even if I did, are there any big names in there, or anyone with a grudge against me?”
“Killer Moth and Firefly have been there since you caught them last month, but besides them, Bane, Scarecrow, Two Face, and well… the Joker, but none of them have ever gotten involved with you so there is no personal score to settle there.” You swear you could see your father pop a blood vessel, but he could not say anything because while Gabriel knew your identity and knew your father knew your identity, Gabriel had no clue that Bruce Wayne was the Batman. “Then as for your suit, don’t worry.”
He waved the case up before opening it, it was a small pin, an enamel raven pin. You let him pin it onto your dress as you raised an eyebrow. “It’s a pin?”
“It’s also your suit.” You let him reach out and tap the pin twice and before you could react there was an outburst and it felt like it was a scene from a movie as the fabric formed around your body like changing fibers. You must have looked like a child in a candy store with your reaction because Mr. Austen smiled, probably would have laughed if the situation was not so serious. “Nanotechnology, something I’ve been hoping for all of you, but I have only managed to finish your suit.”
“No it’s fine, thank you, oh my god this is so sick!” You must have shreked like a little girl because Gabriel hushed you.
“There is a bike for you out back, equipment on it for you as well.” Mr. Austen gestured towards a narrow window for you to climb out of across the room and you nodded. “I’ll send you the information on your way, it seems I’m on comm lines tonight.”
“Is Miss Wayne gonna be a hero?” The little girl asked, looking at her big brother with a wide smile and Mr. Austen nodded and then to which she looked at you with the biggest smile. “You’re my favorite.”
“Thank you.” You looked at Gabriel then, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.” You then looked at your father, staring at him for a moment, your smiling fading away. “Goodbye father.”
______________________
Your motorcycle roared beneath you as you rode up north, navigating your way to Arkham Island. You were easily pushing ninety miles per hour as you were driving and weaving in and out of traffic. You drove even faster down the Robbins Bridge, not wanting to get stuck in an incident like last time. The closer you got to the Asylum the more bare the streets became and soon enough it was just you…
You wanted it to be just you…
The road lit up before you as lights from a car as it rode up next to you. You would have panicked if the car was not so painfully familiar, the Batmobile, a stupid name in your opinion but it was a cool looking car. You wondered how long it would take for your old man to follow after you after he heard Joker’s name, you just did not expect for him to be this fast.
It was no wonder that he was rushing after you, the words Joker, secretly breach, and Arkham Asylum did not sit well together. He was already protecting you, but remembering what happened to Jason when Joker murdered him was too much to risk.
Luckily your father did not try to cut you off or get in your way as you rode down the road and bridge to Arkham Asylum, only stopping when you stopped in front of the asylum, just past the gates. You jumped off your bike just as the doors to the Batmobile opened up and your father stepped out in full gear.
“Songbird, go home.” His voice was commanding and for the first time you did not hate being called that name since Oliver shined a new light upon it. You ignored his words, continuing to walk forward to the doors of Arkham Asylum, flipping him off, which you instantly regretted because he grabbed your arm, pulling you backwards, making you look at him. “I gave you an order, Songbird. Now go home.”
“You don’t get to order me, I’m not like one of your birds and bats.” You brought your knee up to his gut, which was practically nothing, but it got him to let go of you. “Besides it’s just a security check, I can handle and of these fuckers, and this is my job and case, not yours.”
“I am trying to protect you-“
“I was told to expect you when I was on my way here, Songbird.” A familiar and tired voice spoke out to you as the doors to the asylum opened up. You spotted the familiar face of the GCPD commissioner, Jim Gordan, a person you had worked with more and more over the last two years, of course this was the first time he was seeing you and the Batman together. “I did not expect you to bring Batman along. Are you one of his?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The answers were spoken at the same time and you shot a glare at him and he frowned at you. You glanced back at Commissioner Gordon and you took a deep breath before shaking your head. “He likes to think I am one of his, but I don’t take orders from him, our tech and gear are not the same and our comm lines are completely different. He just wanted to follow along.” You rolled your eyes and stepped inside the building, your father following closely behind you. “What are we looking at, Commissioner? Break out level or something like a security camera malfunction?”
“Security camera is down in Joker’s cell.” He replied with a sigh. “My men are spread thin enough so they can’t get it back online, besides not even the asylum staff has access to the security network, I was informed that you do?”
“That would be correct, I can handle it-“
“I’ll do it.” Your father interrupted you and you scoffed as his hand came to firmly grasp onto your shoulder and he looked down at you. “You can wait outside the cell.”
“Like hell I will! You don’t even have access to the…” Your hand trailed down to your own utility belt to grab the emergency connector the the Austen Security Network, but it was gone. You looked up and it was in his hand. “Hey, that’s not yours, you can’t have that-“
“If you argue I will drag you back home, do you understand?” His tone was the same one he used when you were a child, stern and serious, as if you were going to sneak out to go to a party with your friends, that’s how he viewed you, a child, his child.
“…fine…”
“Good.” You felt yourself shrink into yourself, crossing your arms as you passed the police commissioner, your father leading you further into Arkham Asylum. “Stay close, I need to talk to you after this.”
______________________
You have never been this far into Arkham Asylum in your life, Henbane or Foxglove were normally the ones who handled things on the island, but even then this was more the territory of the Birds and the Bats, not your turf. Even half of the inmates in this place are people you have never even faced before, nor did you want to…
Bane would snap you like a twig, you were too small and nimble to stand a chance against him.
Scarecrow was not the sort you could handle, that fear toxin would only bring back bad memories of when you lived in Wayne Manor and could potentially expose not only your identity but that of your entire family. Though you did read his old reports from when he occasionally taught at Gotham University and when he was just Dr. Jonathan Crane, despite his madness he was quite smart.
Two Face, well you could stand a chance against him, he was someone you could handle, but you chose not to for personal reasons. He knew you as a child, Bruce Wayne’s little princess, and that… you were no longer that girl.
Then there was the Joker. Jason's story happened long before you arrived at the mansion, but you could see the physical and mental scars it left on him. You remember the first time you saw one of his panic attacks, his mind going back to that day when the Joker tortured and murdered him, it scared you and it was second hand.
Your father made sure you were firmly behind him as you approached Joker’s cell, making it clear that you were just going to watch and that you would run if anything went wrong. You did not know what to expect, but it was not what you saw. He was sitting on the bed in his padded cell, his arms restrained in a straight jacket, his hair was an ugly shade of neon green which was faded due to the lack of hair dye in Arkham Asylum, his eyes were wide and unblinking, it almost reminded you of a doll you would see in a horror movie, and the. There were his lips, there was a cut across his face which had the illusion of extending his smile to an unsettling degree, it was scared over but it was clear that he continued to pick at it, reopening the wound and it was scabbing over again and again. And then when he looked up at the two of you, more specifically your father, you wanted to vomit.
“Oh Batsy, you came to see me.” His voice had a high pitched, raspy, sing song tone, you already hated it. Then his eyes turned to you and a cackle escaped his lips that sent a shiver down your spine. “You even brought another one of your birds for me to play with, I had such fun with the last one and all of his screams, I wonder if she’ll scream louder.”
“You’re never going to get the chance.” Your father snapped back, not wasting a moment as he stepped into the cell, so secure it had a two rooms, one that kept the Joker behind bars and one that kept him from reaching out and grabbing someone if he got free of his straight jacket, a layer of bullet proof glass, and in that little area between the barriers was the security camera that was down.
“And I’m not one of his birds.” You snapped back to the madman as your father began to hook up the connector to the camera. “He just interfered with my case, a thorn in my side.”
“Oh but I’m sure you would scream his name, begging him to save you, oh I would love to hear that.” He laughed again, his voice ringing loudly in your ears as he mocked you. “Oh Batman, save me, save me please! I don’t want to die!”
“I’ve had enough.” You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and walking back down the hallway of cells in Arkham Asylum. “I would rather shoot myself in the skull and kill myself then beg for him to save me.”
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cardigan (3/3)
I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 8.8k
previous part • next part
After forcing yourself to forget about Aemond, start having every intention of having fun with your friends no matter what and get a few drinks… you did it.
You managed to have fun and have a really good time with your real friends.
Even though you got your heart broken, you felt really bad and had to endure that ugly sharp pain in your chest along with all that sadness, pain, anger and disappointment…. you drank and forgot about everything to focus on the moment.
You even met new people, all friends of Ryan's.
The next day, in Sara's room at the dorm, you didn't even remember their names or almost half of the things that happened at the party.
Until she reminded you herself and showed you videos of everyone together with those people dancing and having a good time.
Then, remembering what had happened before you decided to have fun, you felt that urge to cry again.
Fortunately Sara didn't ask you about him, it was as if she had forgotten about him and you were thankful for that since you didn't have to talk to her about anything.
However, after Sara does you the favor of taking you home, even though the place doesn't really feel like that anymore, nervous, cautious and not really having the energy and courage to face him, you still open the door of the apartment and enter.
But you get the big surprise that he's not even here.
Incredulous, you think to yourself that he must have stayed with his girlfriend again. And you quickly attend to Vhagar and yourself, wanting to occupy your mind so that you don't seriously cry at that moment.
Did he really completely forgot my birthday?
You didn't even need to know, the answer to the question was pretty clear when you got to the apartment since he didn't show up for the rest of the day either.
And you didn't know if you felt grateful for it since you didn't want to see him or it made you feel worse about the fact that he really had completely forgotten you and your special day.
So the best you could do at that moment, was to take a bath, eat a little and then look for a job again around your area.
You want to keep your mind busy, you don't want to think about him, so you don't rest and you don't take your eyes off your phone until you find a job.
Until you finally find a job at a flower shop near the university as the store's receptionist and where the working hours fit your schedule perfectly. They don't ask for experience either.
That day, even though your head hurts and you still haven't recovered one hundred percent from the previous party, you take pills, get some rest and head to the flower shop.
And the next few days, it's back to living alone in the apartment.
Since you completely ignored Aemond's messages that night, neither you nor he have spoken again, not even a phone call.
You no longer ask him if he will come to eat, what special food he wants in case he does, where he is or where he spent the night.
You don't do it anymore because you no longer want to or care.
You also no longer do his laundry, the little he has here really, and now you simply clean up the mess you make and only buy food for yourself.
He probably has to come to the apartment when you are in class and you are grateful for that, even though you feel more broken inside every day that passes and you see again how he completely forgot your birthday.
He doesn't say anything to you, he doesn't even make the slightest effort, he doesn't see you and doesn't seem to have the intention of doing so any time soon.
Does it hurt? Yes, very much.
But you know you are no one to tell him what he can and can't do, who he can and can't be with.
Just as you don't have to remind him that it was your birthday, nor should you tell him that he forgot all about it.
He knows what he is doing, he makes his own decisions, he is no longer a child,… and neither are you.
That's why despite being very upset, sad and broken, really not wanting to you still force yourself to try to communicate with him.
You've got the job and there's a dorm room available at the residence halls, so now you just want to give him the key to the apartment.
Although nothing would be better than just leaving and nothing else, but you know you can't do that.
After all, he helped you a lot financially by offering you your own space here, basically for free.
But yet when you text and call him a few times as you start packing, he doesn't respond.
He responds very late at night only telling you that he's staying the night with Alys. And when you ask him if you can see each other and talk, he doesn't respond anymore.
Until more days go by and you unsuccessfully, feeling really annoyed with him, you tell yourself that enough is enough.
You ask Ryan to help you transport your things to your new home and you definitely break all ties with Aemond by bringing Vhagar with you as well.
With him pretending you no longer exist, as if he didn't have his best friend living with him, or apparently so it was, so now you also do the exact same thing.
You pretend he no longer exists and just walk away.
And now as you settle into your new home, which is not at all like where you used to live before, you still like it and tell yourself that you will get used to it soon.
It has nothing more than the small square space with your bed, your closet and desk, also a small bathroom.
You only have to buy a small refrigerator now while everything else like laundry is already offered by the residence on the first floor.
You know your room will be a small place for Vhagar but she doesn't seem to mind as she settles into your bed and falls asleep once you start unpacking.
Until the weekend comes and your friends make noise in the group chat saying they want to party on Saturday.
And you, thinking you wouldn't be in the mood, agree to go and have some fun.
It's already been a full week Monday through Saturday morning that you started your new job that you couldn't have liked any better. So you want to get all the stress out.
Most of all you want to get the sadness out of your system because of work, your classes and also because of him.
It's also been a full week since you moved, so not wanting anything to do with him anymore, you head to the one person you know will help you with the matter: Helaena.
Helaena also studies at the same university, she also lives in a dorm room, only that she studies biology.
So once you send her a message asking if the two of you can meet, she gladly accepts and you arrange to meet in her room.
And soon enough she finds herself opening her door to greet you.
"Hi Y/N!" she exclaims happily and wraps you in a soft hug, to which you smile.
"Hello Hel."
"Where have you been? I finally see you."
She asks you as she pulls away from you and looks at you a little confused, without erasing her charming smile.
"You know…" You shrug your shoulders, a little nervous, "I've been very busy with my classes."
And even though that's not the real reason, she still believes you.
"Oh yeah, sure, me too, it's a nightmare. Come on in."
She steps aside so you can come in and you do, immediately feeling nervous because you know you'll have to tell her about everything that happened with her brother.
"Even so, you didn't come to the ball."
Helaena says to you suddenly and you watch her as she closes the door behind her.
"I thought it was weird since you always go to my family's ball."
"Yes…" you say a little uncomfortable, "I… I did…
"But it seemed so weird to me that all of a sudden Aemond took his girlfriend when he said that…..
She stops suddenly, then looks at you with her eyes wide open, now softening her confused face, watching you intently.
"Oh, don't tell me," she murmurs.
And all you do is bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment in sorrow.
"Don't tell me you didn't go because he took his girlfriend."
You let out a long breath and at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that she has already brought up the subject of him and his girlfriend, you decide to tell her everything that happened.
The ball, how you now live alone in his apartment when it wasn't supposed to be like that, his conversation with Alys, his irresponsibility with Vhagar and finally your birthday.
"Oh I'm going to kill that son of a…
"No, Hel, please."
You ask her, not wanting to talk about him anymore.
"It's all done now. I don't want to cause any more…
"You? Cause anything?" she interrupts you, incredulous, "Y/N, you couldn't cause anything, it's all caused by him and his obsession with that girl."
"She's his girlfriend," you say with pain in your chest, "It makes sense."
"Yeah, but you don't put your best friend down for a relationship, Y/N," she says obviously and with an annoyed tone, "And believe me when I tell you that when I met that girl she didn't give me any good vibes. Mother seemed to some point pleased, but Nyra with her look told me everything, so did Aegon and even my uncle Daemon."
"Really?"
You ask her really interested in it, since apparently you were not the only one who felt that way when you met Alys for the first time.
"Yes, really," she assures you, "They all asked about you, Daeron, Jace and Luke too."
You lower your gaze with a sad expression, since you haven't seen Aemond's little brother or his two nephews who have always been very kind and funny with you.
You are also struck by the fact that Aemond did not tell you that his family had been asking about you at the ball.
Maybe he did it so as not to make you feel bad.
"Aemond didn't even answer them, he didn't even seem to know what to say. He just immediately introduced them to his girlfriend," she says with a pout.
You let out a long breath.
"Well, I still get the idea of how much fun everyone had. I saw your pictures and videos on Instagram."
"I just can't believe he told you at the last minute when you already had everything ready that he was taking his girlfriend," she insists, really annoyed, "And yet after making plans the idiot forgot your birthday?" she inquires.
"It doesn't matter anymore, Hel, that was a little more than a week ago," you say not wanting to give more importance to the matter, "In fact, I came here because I wanted to know if you could do me a favor, now that we are talking about it."
Helaena, still annoyed to hear everything you told her, still nods.
"Sure, what is it?"
"I…
You bite your lips, feeling nervous to tell the sister of your best friend, or ex best friend rather, about the new chapter of your life.
Mostly because after this, Aemond will finally know everything soon enough.
"I've gotten a job in a flower shop and I've also moved into a dorm. Don't worry, I have brought Vhagar with me, now I will take care of her."
You assure her the instant you know she would ask you about Vhagar.
"And even though I didn't want to, I had to try to communicate with Aemond, but he never responded and I never saw him around the apartment, so I just left because I couldn't delay any longer. To this day he doesn't even know anything."
Again Helaena's soft, tender face contorts in anger.
"That fucking son of a….
"So…" you interrupt her, taking the things from your backpack, "Here is the key to the apartment and also this envelope with money to pay him for the troubles."
You look at her with a certain sadness and with the hope in your face that she will take care of this after Helaena sees everything in your hands and again returns her gaze to yours.
"Could you hand it over to him, please?"
And now it is Helaena's turn to look at you sadly and with compassion as she looks at your hurt face and understands what you went through and what you are going through now.
"Oh, Y/N…" she says disappointedly, "I'm so sorry for my stupid brother."
And again she pulls you in a soft and comforting hug that you allow since you really need it, even though you avoid breaking down crying at that moment.
You know Helaena probably won't tell him anything, but you still don't want to cry in the arms of your ex-best friend's sister.
"Don't worry, Hel. And nothing that happened with him will affect our friendship either," you assure her in a sad voice.
"No, of course not," she says instantly, hugging you a little tighter.
After a few more moments like that, they both separate and Helaena takes the key and the envelope with the money.
That money was sent to you monthly by your parents and you decided to give it to him. Now with your job at the flower shop, you can get that money back for your needs.
But for now it feels good to give it to Aemond because despite hearing that horrible conversation between him and his girlfriend, you do it mostly to feel better about yourself.
And after talking a few more moments with Helaena, you both finally say goodbye and you walk through her door.
You both agree that one of these days you could go for a coffee together. And just as you are about to leave, Helaena stops you with her words.
Words that leave you completely still, and then you look at her again with a slight surprise on your face.
"I always believed and hoped that you and Aemond would end up together, you know," she says with a sad little smile, "I know you were best friends, but I always had a feeling, always.
At that moment… how you wished her words would have been true.
How you would have wanted that to happen.
You think with illusion, sadness and disappointment, and then just try to smile even a little in her direction, say goodbye one last time and leave.
Later that night, after crying a little and trying to cheer yourself up by getting ready to go to the party with your friends, you arrive at the frat house and the party starts right then and there.
At first, cautious, you are kept alert by the fact that Aemond could probably be here with his girlfriend or with his friends, or maybe both.
But fortunately for you, there is no silver-haired guy with a black haired girl in the crowd, so you can feel at peace.
Immediately the party games like beer pong and drinking begin.
Until at some point of the party, you realize while talking and having fun with Aileen, that again Ryan's friends have joined the group, three guys exactly.
And as you're all dancing together, having a good time, you're drinking and forgetting about everything, really enjoying yourself, you suddenly find yourself dancing and singing the songs at the top of your lungs with one of Ryan's friends, Cregan Stark.
A tall guy, dark brown hair, with black eyes and features that can't go unnoticed.
Cregan seems to have his eye on you and you have yours on him.
Eventually the two start talking, being close, dancing together, even taking pictures and videos of each other, and then the two sit on one of the sofas and continue talking.
The two very close to each other to the point of almost kissing.
Maybe it was the alcohol, the moment, the party or just that you wanted to have this kind of moments with some guy, because Cregan is really handsome and you really wanted to kiss him.
However, all the guys arrived just at that moment to keep you company and rest a bit after having been dancing for a while.
Cregan didn't seem to mind, you didn't really either, you both just smiled at each other, although he had that little disappointment on his face from the interruption.
It remained as that pending between you and that's why he asked for your number.
The next day, apparently that interaction and closeness between you and Cregan was noticed by everyone, but more so by your friends who squeal and excitedly talk about him and you.
You find out that he's a law student, a year older than you, likes dogs, plays the guitar, and apparently isn't dating anyone.
You didn't want to get your hopes up with him, because you knew that meeting a guy and him suddenly having an interest in you at a party is usually not a long-term interest and is just for the moment.
But the expectation went up the moment he texts you and asks you if you want to have coffee with him on Tuesday morning before you both have your respective classes.
And you respond, or well, your friends respond more excitedly than you, that you accept.
"Girl, the guy is handsome, tall, funny and a really nice guy, what more could you ask for?"
And in that, Aileen is right. However… there is a problem. And that problem has a name: Aemond.
Aemond has ruined every guy for you in many ways, both physically and personality-wise.
And even though he wasn't like that, he really was a very bad friend to you and all his decisions hurt you. That's why agreeing to date Cregan is easy.
You also tell yourself that Aemond doesn't matter anymore. He has a girlfriend, he's living his life apart, and so are you, and you and he are no longer friends.
So once Cregan tells you that he is already waiting for you outside your dorm, you rush out.
Excitedly you take one last look in your mirror, make sure nothing is out of place, also make sure Vhagar is okay and head for the door to leave with your backpack on your shoulder and your phone in hand.
But when you opened the door, you clearly didn't expect to see your ex-best friend about to knock on your door with a totally bewildered, confused, worried and to some extent distressed and desperate look on his face.
"Y/N...
And you are totally paralyzed the moment your name leaves his lips.
At first, you don't understand what he is doing here or how he knew exactly where you were now since you didn't tell Helaena anything about your new home.
In fact, you didn't say anything to anyone he and you know together. However, you do know him.
You know that he just by asking anyone he can find out anything he wants to know, including finding people, simply because he is Aemond Targaryen.
And then you start to panic and you feel very nervous because he's really here.
"W-what are you doing here?" you ask him in a bewildered whisper.
In an instant you tense up and hold tightly to the edge of your door, watching him intently and alertly.
"What am I doing here?" he asks in a totally bewildered voice, "What are you doing here?" he says, now certainly annoyed.
"I-I don't… I don't have time for this, okay?"
You try to walk past him, bearing in mind that Cregan is waiting for you outside and you don't want to keep him waiting any longer.
But you can't stop your heart from beating too fast and you can't stop this agonizing feeling in your gut at the sight of him now after so many weeks.
"Are you serious?"
He stops you by taking your arm in a firm grip, making you stand in front of him again, with the most bewildered, confused and annoyed look you've ever seen on his face.
"I come home calling you, wanting to talk to you, having this stupid idea that you were busy or something, only to find out that Vhagar isn't there, neither are you and neither are your things," he says to you incredulously, "I thought something bad had happened to you Y/N, I was so worried. I started to go crazy because I couldn't even call you or send you messages, nothing was getting through to you."
And at that moment, everything you were feeling, is replaced by hatred and anger for very clear reasons and that he, seeming surprising to you, doesn't see or even realize.
He probably wanted to talk to you about your birthday, but he couldn't call or text you because since you moved out and he had no idea, you decided to block him from everywhere.
But really, even though you feel weak from his unexpected appearance, his words don't make you feel anything but hurt and angry.
"And do you have any fucking idea how it made me feel when I called Helaena and she told me you got a job and moved into a fucking dorm just making everything worse?" he asks you annoyed, "All this without me having a fucking idea, Y/N."
The way he tells you everything, you immediately tell yourself that you won't react the same way even though all that flows through your system is one thing: anger.
So instead of talking to him in annoyance because you don't want to and don't have the time to explain yourself more than necessary, you talk to him calmly in comparison to him.
He is visibly frustrated and looks more bewildered than ever.
"Maybe you would have known… if you had answered my calls or messages, Aemond. Or if you had shown up even once at your apartment."
And you overemphasize your apartment.
"All that was over a week ago, much longer in fact, and you barely care to know about me or Vhagar," you say bitterly.
He shakes his head, looking more distressed and worried than before.
"I-I…" He lets out a long breath, "And what the fuck is this supposed to mean?"
He asks you again in annoyance, clearly after he has no idea what to say to the previous and from his jacket pocket he takes out the money you gave to Helaena for him and also the key to his apartment.
"For your troubles?" he raises the money in annoyance, "And the key for what? Are you really going to stay here definitely?"
"The money is because I didn't give you a single penny to help you financially and the key so you have more privacy with Alys every time you get home and I don't have to be there locked up in my room… stopping you," you explain without much interest, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.
But he is speechless, staring at you in surprise, bewilderment and anguish, his whole worried expression speaking for itself.
"Did you…" he pauses in concern, "Did you hear us that night?"
You deliberately ignore his question.
"You wanted me to meet new people and go out more, also give you your privacy…well, I'm doing exactly that. Now leave and don't ever come back."
And without further ado you close the door behind you firmly and walk away from him to head for the stairs and finally leave to meet Cregan.
But because of the circumstances and everything Aemond must be feeling, he doesn't let you go so easily.
"Hey, no, stop," he says in a warning tone and then grabs your arm and immobilizes you as you turn towards him.
"Let go of me."
"Y/N…
"I have to go. Someone is waiting for me."
"Y/N, please…" he calls pleadingly, "You don't have to lie, I-I…" he runs a hand over his frustrated and anguished face, "Was all this for your birthday?"
At his question, you say nothing, just continue to stare at him with the most serious look ever, now just pressing your lips together and waiting for him to let go so you can leave.
"Y/N…" he calls you cautiously and with worry in his eyes, "I know I fucked up, I know that….
"Oh please, Aemond," you exclaim irritated, "I don't need any more of your pity, okay? I really don't care what you have to say, it's all done. I gave you the key back and the money too, didn't I? Now you won't have to pity me anymore and your girlfriend will be pleased to know that I won't interfere with your plans anymore."
He lets out a long breath, more frustrated than before and completely irritated by your words.
"It doesn't matter what you heard that night, Y/N. It doesn't matter what Alys said either," he tells you in desperation.
But you don't care anymore.
"I've done my part, now leave me alone."
Again you try to leave but he again won't let you go.
"Will you stop running away!? I want to talk to you, I want to fix this!" he says in exasperation, "I don't want your key and I certainly don't want your fucking money, I want you back with me!"
And that's when you can't take it any longer and you finally explode in anger at him.
"Now you want me to be with you after always leaving me out of all the plans we made for your girlfriend and leaving me living alone!? Do you really think I even want to see you and be in the same place as you after everything you done!?"
He is about to answer you, but a third voice between you stops him and also the whole discussion between the two of you.
"Y/N?"
Both you and Aemond turn your heads and from the stairs Cregan Stark looks curiously between you and Aemond, almost worried.
You know your screams must have been heard all the way to the first floor considering your room is on the second.
"Is everything all right here?" he asks you softly and attentively, turning to you.
Feeling embarrassed that he might have heard everything, which is most likely, you finally loosen your grip on Aemond and control yourself by telling yourself that it's all over now.
"Yes, everything is fine," you put on your best face, or try to, "Sorry, I was on my way out. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long."
"No, it's fine," he says nonchalantly, "Although I did come to hurry you a little," he confesses with a small, embarrassed smile, "At the coffee shop we're going to, the coffee you like is on promotion, but only until ten o'clock, so I want to get there to buy it for you."
In other circumstances, Cregan's words would have made you feel on the clouds, but because of what was happening before and with Aemond present, his words have no effect on you.
Especially because of Aemond's confused and intimidating look at Cregan, clearly annoyed by the interruption, as well as wanting to know who this guy is and realizing that you really had someone waiting for you.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," you nod in his direction, "He was just leaving too."
You say with a certain bitter and obvious tone turning your head towards Aemond, but without looking at him to which you immediately feel his gaze on you, but you ignore him.
And not wanting to keep Cregan waiting any longer, you head towards him, take him by the arm and lead him along with you towards the stairs, leaving Aemond behind.
After you and Cregan start heading towards the coffe shop, you try to pay attention to everything he tells you, but you can't.
You pretend to listen to him and collaborate a little in his conversation, feeling bad about yourself but you can't help it since all you can think about is Aemond.
And even though Cregan tries to bring up the subject, clearly because it's obvious he heard you were arguing, you quickly evade him.
However, he tells you that he believes he has seen Aemond before and has heard a lot about him. Also of his sister, Helaena.
But overall, this going out or rather date? with Cregan… did not turn out as you expected and as you wanted it to because of Aemond's unexpected visit to your new home.
And once again, you find yourself out of balance because of what happened with him now.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/631631003fcd8fcfa4d6060766d0b08d/8327837621763dbd-3e/s540x810/f906f03469c99331ff8c0f5f79c23488301f7d9b.jpg)
Latch by Disclosure and Sam Smith is heard throughout the house of the most popular party frat house and the one that never disappoints.
At first, you thought about not partying with your friends and Cregan since you weren't in the mood and didn't want to have to deal with a hangover the next day.
However, Cregan is the one who convinces you and now the two of you are dancing along with all your other friends having a good time, singing at the top of your lungs and forgetting about everything.
The whole party is going amazing, you're still not drinking too much, you're having fun with your friends and Cregan most of all.
Until you are catching your breath to continue dancing with Cregan, both of you apart and talking, suddenly your gaze is focused on the entrance of the house and Aemond Targaryen makes an appearance holding Alys' hand with all his friends also entering behind him.
Instantly you want to leave, because you know you don't feel comfortable now with the presence of your ex best friend knowing what happened the last time you saw each other.
And even more so when he notices you standing apart, with that guy from before, the two of you very close and talking, now realizing your presence.
But you pretend not to see him even though your heart starts beating fast when you feel his gaze.
When you stop feeling that he is looking at you, then you see him and still holding hands with Alys both of them go to the kitchen. And that's when you say to yourself: no.
He is not going to ruin this party with your friends. He came here for the sole purpose of having fun, which is the point of the party and so are you.
You decide to leave the feelings behind and continue having fun as before.
You drink some more, resume dancing, singing and playing party games, just forget about him and focus on you, what you are doing and the people around you.
When in the kitchen, while you are pouring more drinks for Cregan and yourself, something happens that you least expected and that causes you a lot of confusion at the same time.
However, somehow you must have known that Aemond would be coming for you.
"Y/N."
He calls out to you and when you look at him, you again meet his gaze a little worried but also hopeful that he might talk to you.
But of course, Alys must be by his side clinging to his right arm, watching you with a certain indifference.
And you, preferring a thousand times to ignore it, unfortunately still do not finish preparing the drinks, so you decide to act indifferent.
"Yes?" you say without even looking at him.
And just with your indifference, which Aemond notices perfectly, only makes him more frustrated, but not wanting to explode again against you, he can only try to relax and start with what he wants to say as calmly as possible so as not to push you away.
"Are you…" he swallows hard, looking at you apologetically and a bit nervously, "Are you enjoying the party?"
However, his question couldn't have been more pathetic for you.
"Yes, very much in fact."
You answer without further ado, putting everything back in its place to finally get out of the way and leave. And that's what you do, you turn around with your drinks in hand and walk away.
But he stops you instantly by standing in front of you.
"Y/N," he calls out to you pleadingly, "Can we go outside and talk, please?"
And you, wanting to take your indifference further, even more with Alys' presence, that's exactly what you do.
"About what?"
"About the other day," he tells you more cautious and attentive than before.
And you frown at him.
"Was there anything else to say?"
He lets out a long sigh.
"Y/N, please…
"There you are!"
Again Cregan's voice interrupts the conversation between the two of you and Cregan, without even noticing Aemond, turns to you with a small smile on his lips.
"I went to the bathroom for two seconds and I had already lost you," he says amused, "You need help?"
He points to the drinks and you nod.
"Yes," you extend one to him, placing a soft smile in his direction, "This one's yours, actually.
"Thank you, my pretty."
And maybe it had been again the interruption of the same boy from the other day, that makes Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.
But maybe it's more from the fact that he tenses up and watches him with a clenched jaw as he hears that word from him towards you.
Pretty.
Both he and you think, but you really couldn't care less as you watch between Cregan and him over the nickname.
And feeling Aemond's burning gaze, Cregan finally seems to notice the presence of Aemond Targaryen himself.
"Oh, hey," he smiles friendly, "Sorry, we've met before, haven't we?"
And Aemond, really annoyed, just bites the inside of his cheek and avoids showing his irritation, as well as the discontent he feels towards the guy.
"Yes," he says without looking at him, with a cutting tone, focusing again on you.
"Yes, sorry again," Cregan tells him again, "It's just that we weren't introduced."
And after Cregan says that, you're sorry but you want to murder him.
Especially since now Cregan is watching you too, already having the smoldering stare of your ex best at you and the guy you're apparently starting to have… something with.
Not to mention the judgmental and irritated look from Alys as well.
And you, having no choice, introduce them to each other.
"Aemond, this is Cregan, my friend," you point to Cregan, "And Cregan, this is Aemond, an old classmate at high school."
And finally you point to Aemond, without looking at him too much.
And again, everything in Aemond contracts and his whole bewildered look is reflected on his face after hearing your words.
Even Alys stirs in her place, watching Aemond intently.
A strange feeling in his chest invades him and all his disappointment, as well as his sadness, is reflected even though he tries not to be.
But the way you said it, your look, your attitude, everything about you makes him feel miserable and makes him recognize that he has definitely lost you.
Especially because after that, you don't waste any more time, you take Cregan by the hand and excuse both of you to go back to your friends, not wanting to be around him anymore.
After the party goes on, Aemond can't enjoy the moment. Even Alys next to him doesn't get his attention, neither do his friends.
All he sees is you, with him, the two of you dancing, laughing and close to each other.
He's certainly never seen you having fun like that before, never in the company of a guy he admits he recognizes; he seems like a really nice guy.
An unpleasant feeling turns his stomach and he feels it in his chest again when you laugh at something he has said, he slips an arm around your shoulders and leaves a kiss on your cheek.
His jaw tenses and he can't take his eye off of you, to some extent starting to annoy Alys by his lack of attention.
And Aemond loses it completely the moment he turns his face towards you, you turn your face towards him and the two of you kiss.
All the friendship that the two of you and Aemond used to have, you and Aemond, passes right in front of him in that moment.
Everything, from the beginning, from high school to college, with both of you moving into the apartment, having movie nights, having breakfast and dinner together, grocery shopping, everything.
As well as all the bad stuff caused by him, which he admits to, like all those nights he left you behind for Alys, the ball and your birthday.
Unable to take it anymore, totally ignoring Alys and everyone, with the hardest look on his face, he leaves the house in an act of desperation and
He moves away from all the people, from Alys, from you, because he can't see you having fun without him, he can't see you with other people, because it was always him.
And knowing that he was the one who caused your friendship to end, he takes a seat on the stairs leading to the house and starts smoking.
But even he doesn't understand himself.
Isn't this what you wanted?
His mind asks him, as confused as he is, who with a bad face and feeling like a complete idiot, continues smoking, thinking that it would be better to go back home.
But without you… it doesn't feel like that anymore.
He stays thinking for a long time, without Alys bothering to look for him, which he is grateful for since he has more time with himself.
While you, still at the party, continue drinking and sharing a kiss or two with Cregan, not really caring that you're among friends and other people.
But the moment with Cregan ends when he tells you that he has to leave, even showing you some messages from his sister asking him to pick her up at a party outside the university.
He asks you if you want him to leave you too, but you prefer to continue having fun for a while longer. You both say goodbye and stay with your friends.
Not long after, however, they all get really drunk. Even Ryan.
So as the four of you leave the house, ordering Uber's and laughing amongst yourselves, that's when Aemond sees you.
Confused, he throws the rest of his cigarette away and stands up from the stairs, watching you intently. And noticing your condition, he actually gets worried.
You can't even stand firmly on your feet.
And all you remember is having a brief conversation or discussion with someone, that someone also talking to Ryan, then you feel yourself being carried, you protest a little, and then all goes dark.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/631631003fcd8fcfa4d6060766d0b08d/8327837621763dbd-3e/s540x810/f906f03469c99331ff8c0f5f79c23488301f7d9b.jpg)
The moment you open your eyes, completely numb and feeling like a mess, the pain in your throat, body and head begins.
You groan under your breath, scrunching up your face and holding a hand to your forehead, feeling as if your head is about to explode in constant sharp pain.
You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down so you can get through the pain easier, but it's impossible.
You drank too much, that's for sure, your body is confirming it. But what you don't know is where you are.
Alarmed, you quickly reopen your eyes and look around you, worrying because you don't remember who you left with last night and whether you came to your room or someone else's.
When your whole face contorts in confusion as you realize that this room is not yours, nor is it Sara's or Aileen's room. In fact, this room you know and you know it very well.
You open your eyes wide and don't understand anything, beginning to get seriously alarmed and worried.
What the fuck am I doing in Aemond's room?
You think to yourself as you force yourself to ignore all the internal pain you are feeling and get out of bed.
You quickly put on your shoes, make sure you have all your things with you and leave the room, hoping he's not here.
But of course he must be, because as you walk out into the hallway, with your things held against your chest, you hear sounds and very low music coming from the kitchen.
And as you slowly, cautiously approach, you see him, preparing breakfast, moving back and forth across the kitchen with his back to you.
Hopeful, you watch the door ahead a few feet away from you, then look cautiously again at Aemond, who fortunately has not noticed your presence.
You think to yourself that you could head for the door without making a sound and leave without him noticing. Being here with him in your old home doesn't please you, especially since you don't understand how you got here last night with him.
But you don't care, all you want to do is leave.
However, before you can try to do anything, he turns to grab something from the counter and sees you.
"Oh, you're awake," he says with a soft tone and a calm look.
At this, you don't say anything, you just watch him, hoping that by your look and your posture he understands that you already want to leave.
But he, at your lack of words, continues trying.
"You must be feeling very bad, you were very drunk last night. Here I have left you a glass of water and a pill, it will help you after you finish breakfast," he points to the bar, effectively pointing to a glass of water and a pill."
You look away from him for a second, wanting to let out a snort, since you definitely don't plan to stay here for breakfast and it's silly of him to think so just because you're here.
"What am I doing here?" you ask him, serious.
And by your tone of voice, Aemond is surprised and also disappointed, since he thought that things between you and him would never be like this again.
But how wrong he was.
Still, with relaxed posture and soft tone, he answers you to keep the peace as much as possible between the two of you and you don't leave, which is what he fears the most.
"You were very drunk last night, and so were all your friends," he explains.
"Ryan was supposed to take me and my friends to my doorm," you tell him seriously.
"Your friend was really drunk too, Y/N," he says in a more serious tone, "He couldn't handle the three of you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you go in that state, you could barely walk.
You press your lips together, thinking about the party and your friends, to again look at the door in front of you.
"Well… thank you, but I didn't need your help," you say curtly, "Not now either."
And without further ado you head for the door, catching Aemond unawares, who quickly reacts and stands in front of you, grabbing your arm.
"Y/N, please wait…
"I need to go.
"Where to?" he asks frustrated, not believing you.
"That doesn't concern you. I don't want to be here," you tell him annoyed, again trying to pass by his side, but he doesn't let you.
"Please," he repeats pleadingly, "Please don't do this anymore. Just stay."
"Let me go and let me pass," you warn him.
"At least just stay for breakfast," he insists desperately, "Let's talk and then I will take you to your dorm, I pro….
"Will you stop!?"
You explode furiously at him, unable to hold back any longer, feeling more headache and pain all over your body, but you don't care because you're tired, you're fed up and because you've had enough.
While he remains completely silent and observes you slightly surprised by your reaction, since he had certainly never seen you like this before.
At least not with him.
"I don't want to be here, I don't want to have breakfast with you, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you!" you exclaim annoyed, "Can't you really see that? Can't you see that you and I are no longer friends? Can't you see that you're hurting me?"
"Y/N…" he says to you in a low tone, with a thread of voice: "Don't say that...
"You shouldn't have brought me here, you shouldn't have even tried to talk to me, because I don't want to talk to you, I want to get away from you and I want you to respect that!"
And without being able to stand it anymore, tears start to run down your cheeks, but you ignore it totally and continue watching Aemond with the most hurt look of all.
"Stop trying to play savior with me Aemond, because I've had enough."
"Playing savior with you?" he repeats in bewilderment, "Y/N, you are my best friend, I don't….
"No, that's not true, I'm not your best friend, I'm nothing!" you blurt out again furious, "A best friend doesn't hurt his best friend, doesn't leave her aside for a relationship, doesn't replace her, doesn't leave her living alone and certainly doesn't forget her fucking birthday, Aemond!"
Then again Aemond is speechless, watching you with his eye wide open, his lips half open, while you start crying in earnest, unable to control yourself.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he says to you, in a low, broken-toned whisper.
"No, you're not!" you reproach him, upset, crying, feeling broken, "If you were really sorry, you would have apologized since after my birthday, not until now that weeks have passed," you tell him hurt, "And that hurts, Aemond, it hurts that until now you have realized it, that until now you are looking for me, always treating me as the second option!"
The first tear falls down Aemond's right cheek, looking at you with a hard, but still broken expression.
"I'm so sorry, I really am. I care about you, you know that….
"No, that's not true, you don't, you don't care about me!" you contradict him again, crying.
And finally you are able to pass by his side, leaving him in a state just as broken as you are, while you wipe your tears and try to control yourself, when you can't. You still want much, much more.
There is still much, much more you want to say and you say it as you stop before you touch the door and stare at Aemond with as much sadness, hatred and anger as you can.
"You left me aside for Alys, you included her and took me out of our plans, you left me living alone here with Vhagar, you forgot my fucking bir…
You stop, sobbing and breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down.
"You forgot my fucking birthday for her and her parents while I was waiting for you, believing your stupid promises so that in the end you never showed up and only to remember me weeks later and a real friend doesn't do shit like that to his best friend if he really cared, Aemond!" you tell him crying, "I never was that way with you and believe me that having a boyfriend even so I wouldn't have been."
Then everything, both for him and for you stops, because hearing you crying and seeing you so broken, leaves him completely immobile and as broken as you are by your words.
Words and feelings of yours that he had no idea about.
While you, unable to take it anymore, finally open the apartment door and leave, wanting to get away from here and him, because that's what you want and…. he lets you.
He doesn't go after you, like he would have, because your words, everything about you, has left him completely paralyzed. He had never seen you like that, so destroyed and in tears.
And that he was responsible for those reactions of yours, reactions that he hates to see in you, makes him feel more stupid and guilty than ever.
And at that moment he realizes, that this time he has definitely lost you and in a very bad way. He has lost his best friend because of his own actions.
He feels miserable. More miserable than you.
And after that… nothing was ever the same again, both for him and for you.
You didn't see each other again after what happened in his apartment, you didn't even hear from each other through social media, because you had blocked him from everywhere and that's just felt better.
The two of you continued with your classes and in separate ways, as before, only now he was also aware of it and not only you, now with the difference that the friendship between the two of you no longer exists.
To a certain point you knew that he was still having a relationship with Alys Rivers, while you, you had to realize that starting something with Cregan, something more formal, would not be possible, at least not on your part.
You are still so in love with your best friend and so hurt that you didn't want to start something with Cregan knowing that you didn't feel anything beyond that for him. You didn't want him to be your distraction, because it wasn't right.
Your distraction was something else, something you still don't know what it is but you desperately need. Until two weeks after what happened with Aemond, that distraction showed up.
At the end of another semester of your career, an exchange program was opened for the next semester with destinations to Winterfell, the Iron Islands, Casterly Rock, Highgarden and Dorne.
There were also destinations to Essos, but you decided it would be best to go to Highgarden since with your excellent academic record, you entered the program with all expenses paid.
At the same time that you would go to classes, you would also have your internship with one of the best psychologists by being his assistant and start training yourself with his cases. You would even get paid for it.
The semester lasts six months, six months away from Kings Landing, that being exactly what you need.
So after going through all the necessary processes, you were finally given a departure date to Highgarden to begin a brief but important chapter in your life.
You gave the news to your parents, who were happy for you, wished you much success, and even let Helaena know who texted you to ask how you were doing. You never tried to talk to him.
And after the day arrives, happy and at ease with yourself, you board the plane taking Vhagar with you and hope that this will help you put it all behind you.
While still at Kings Landing University, in one of the coffee shops on campus, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen enjoy a good coffee, both serious, not talking much, just him and Helaena lost in their thoughts.
Helaena let him know the news and honestly, he doesn't know how to feel.
He is happy for you, but knowing that you are gone and will be back in up to six months, with no more friendship between the two of you, makes him feel even more miserable.
"She's in love with you, you know?"
The sweet voice of his sweet sister makes Aemond, in a fatal state, as if he hadn't slept well for days, raise his gaze towards her without really having much expression.
As Helaena shows him with her gaze how terribly honest she is being with him at that moment.
"She didn't tell me anything, but I just know," she explains.
And Aemond again lowers his gaze, running a hand over his chin, letting out a long breath.
"You really fucked up, Aemond. I can't believe you were such an idiot."
"I know," he says in a low, emotionless whisper, "You don't have to say it again, I know."
"So what then?" she says, "Get that brilliant brain of yours working. You can't be the smartest guy in your class and at the same time the biggest idiot with the girl who has always been there for you."
He shakes his head, only feeling worse just talking about you.
"Hel, I don't want to…
"Are you really going to let her go?"
His sister interrupts him with a look more expectant than ever, watching him attentively, while he swallows hard and observes with a serious and sad look Helaena in front of him.
And he doesn't answer because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't have an answer to that question, mostly because he hadn't thought about it before.
Will I really let her go?
He asks himself, but the truth is… he doesn't know.
Aemond knows it's already too late but he also feels that that's not entirely true. Maybe, just maybe… he has another chance. And his last.
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thank you very much for reading and for joining me in this short way, it makes me so happy that you liked cardigan very much, there are more stories for you on the way, wait for them:)
besides, there's still the epilogue, that's when we'll say goodbye to this story for good🥺❣
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thirteen crows: epilogue
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4b809359ad363664a5fdebc019e06533/349ccb0ffb1dd1c8-13/s540x810/bef7a872d8f77f79a84ab7764a42522512d4c304.jpg)
summary: some insight on how they treat you weeks, and months later.
word count: 1.8k
previous chapter
series masterlist
a/n: i wasn’t gonna post an epilogue to this, but i sort of liked the idea of looking at their dynamic months later, so i decided to write this short little drabble-type thing. enjoy<3
warnings: stockholm syndrome(??), controlling behaviour, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
three weeks later
You leave your boss’s office with tears in your eyes, keeping your head down as you walk to the kitchen to catch your breath so no one can see the sadness written across your face. You were barely in his office for 10 minutes, and he wasn’t that upset with you, but you’ve never been good with confrontation.
He had pulled you into his office before you started your shift and showed you some reviews that he found online about the Thirteen Crows that day. There were two reviews with your name specifically added, ranting about how bad your service was and how rude you were to them.
Your boss wasn’t necessarily mad; he knows that you usually have no problems with customers, but he was still rightfully worried about the reviews.
You try to finish your shift with a smile; desperate to not receive any more negative reviews about your service, but it’s difficult. Either Eddie or Buck has been by your side for the last few weeks; ever since you found out who they really were, and while they make butterflies erupt in your tummy sometimes, they also scare the hell out of you, which doesn’t help your nerves.
They told you they wouldn’t hurt you, not if you follow the rules, and you want to believe that, but you feel on edge every time you’re with them. Which is most of the time. You’re afraid to do anything; afraid that something you see as harmless will send them into a rage.
You also know that there’s no escaping them either. You know why they’re with you all the time outside of work; they won’t let you leave them.
When Buck finally picks you up from your shift, you stay silent in his passenger seat, eyes focused on the passing scenery as his thumb rubs gentle circles on your exposed thigh. Buck can sense your unease; it’s different than usual.
You tried to speak to Tara after your shift; she’s noticed the way you’ve shut down in the past few weeks, but you don’t talk to her. You don’t know how they find out, but they always know when you speak to anyone in a way that’s not just merely being friendly, and they do not like it.
“How was work, sweet girl?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. You blink a few times as you snap out of your daze, then look over at him, chewing on your lip. You don’t want to tell him about your boss and the reviews. God knows what he and Eddie would do.
They’ve continued killing, although they haven’t told you anything about it. They monitor your screen time, and everything else you do, so you don’t know the exact details. You’ve heard people talking about it at work, though, and you’re sure it’s more of the people they’ve met through work that have “deserved it.”
“Good. Long night.” you speak in a quiet tone, shrugging. His eyes dart from the road to you for a second, inspecting your face. His eyes narrow, like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he doesn’t push any further. You’re thankful for this, because you really do like your boss, even though your conversation with him has you on edge.
When you get back to Buck’s apartment, he helps you get ready for bed, and then you’re off to sleep, but not before his head is between your thighs yet again, desperately chasing the taste of your release.
The next morning, Eddie comes to pick you up and takes you to your apartment to pick up some more of your things, then brings you to his house for dinner. He sits at the dinner table while you prepare dinner, and when he, you, Buck, and Christopher sit down to eat, his smile is wide. He loves seeing you like this; his little family, finally complete.
You spend the night at Eddie’s house, your back pulled firmly against his chest, and while you’re not completely relaxed, you sleep soundly. You know Eddie wouldn’t dare do something with Christopher home, and these kinds of nights are the most relaxing for you.
six months later
You gasp softly when someone runs into your shoulder and makes you drop the can you’re holding. You turn quickly and look up to the man that’s run into you, and he looks down with an apologetic smile, raising his shoulders slightly.
You scramble to pick up the can and put it into your cart as he murmurs an apology, but you shut him down immediately.
“It’s okay, I wasn’t looking.” you tell him, although you know that he’s the one that ran into you. You’re so used to immediately backing down that it’s become second nature.
His eyes glance down at the dented can in your cart, and he licks his lips before he speaks again.
“You really shouldn’t buy that one; it can make you sick.” he tells you, stepping a little closer and ducking his head to speak in a quieter voice. With the gleam in his eye and his smile, you’re pretty sure he’s trying to flirt, even though the actual words don’t seem especially flirty.
You give him a smile as you feel your cheeks heating up. Of course you know that already, but this interaction surprised you, and you barely had time to think about your actions.
“Right. Thanks.” you tell him, trying to keep your body language disinterested. You know how Buck and Eddie would see this, and you don’t want anything to happen to this handsome stranger because they felt unnecessarily threatened.
You also don’t want them to take away your outings. They finally rewarded you with unsupervised time outside of the house to run errands, and it took months to finally gain their trust. You don’t want to do anything to ruin it now.
“I’m Will, by the way.” he says, seeming not to get the hint. You give him a tight-lipped smile and grip the handle of your cart, beginning to walk further down the aisle.
“I should really go.” you tell him, and while his brows furrow in confusion, he doesn’t try anything else. You let out a shaky breath once you’re out of the aisle, trying to stop the shaking in your hands as you create more distance between you and the man.
You don’t bother with the rest of the list. You’ve already gotten most of the items, and you don’t want to risk anything else happening.
You pay with the cash Eddie gave you before he dropped you off, and you make sure to keep the receipt and the change in a safe place until you can give it to him. They keep track of your finances, and ever since you lost your job, you have no choice but to rely on them completely.
When you get to his truck, you get right into the passenger seat and let Eddie put the groceries in the back. When he gets back in the driver's seat, he reaches across the centre console and pulls your head toward him, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss.
He sees your nervous expression when he pulls away, and he narrows his eyes as he keeps a hand on your cheek. He doesn’t have to prompt you though, as the words tumble from your lips before you can even think. It’s better to tell him than for him to find out later.
“There was this guy in there, he bumped into me. He apologized, tried to talk to me, but I walked away. I didn’t want to talk to him, I promise.” He smiles at your last sentence, tilting his head to the side as he looks into your wide eyes. They’ve trained you so well.
“It’s okay, sweet girl. You didn’t do anything wrong, did you?” he asks. His voice is soft, but there’s a hint of condescension as well.
You shake your head quickly, frowning, and he smiles wider. He rubs his thumb along your cheek, and you let out a small sigh, leaning into his gentle touch. You can’t help but relish in his soft touches; they’re the only ones you’ve really interacted with since you got fired from your job 4 months ago, and if it weren’t for them, you’re sure you’d be going stir crazy.
They leave you at Buck’s that night, all cuddled up in Buck’s bed with your favourite show on and promise they’ll be back soon. They give you sweet kisses and tender touches before they go, knowing that you won’t leave while they’re gone, not anymore. And when they come back, they know you won’t ask about the specks of blood on their clothes, or the glints in their eyes, even though you know about everything.
They’re always especially worked up when they get back from nights like this, and you’ve learned not to ask questions. They happen less often now that you’re with them all the time, but they still have this desire to go out, just the two of them, and have some of their own fun.
You know they’ve done something; you know it has to do with the man from the grocery store, and you know they won’t tell you a thing, which you’re thankful for. You thought you’d be more used to their actions after so long, but it still makes your stomach churn when you think about it.
You let them lay you down on Buck’s bed anyway, and although you hate knowing what they’ve just done, you like how much attention they pay to you when they get home. They’ve showered by the time they touch you, so you tell yourself that what they’ve done is gone. Their slate is clean, their actions are washed away; down the drain and never to be thought of again.
As they pay attention to your neck, and your pretty chest, and your plush tummy and thighs, they’re so glad they thought of their plan months ago. You’re completely dependent on them without your job, and that’s exactly how they want you.
It was easy to make those fake reviews; they knew that the original two weren’t enough, so they kept adding new ones until your boss had no choice. And although they knew you’d be upset about the harsh words, they also knew that they’d be able to make you feel better. You’d forget all about your shitty job when you’re completely taken care of by them, and they’ll make sure to give you anything you want as long as you keep being their sweet girl.
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Round 7 was.. definetly intense and I have many thoughts about it, so I did a whole analysis.. yes it's finally here!
Time to start :3 (I will mostly try to make this coherent and chronologically correct, I might fail though! because we know how freaky i can get when it comes to Luka)
without further ado, let's get into it!
tws: drug use, violence, blood, overall quite gore-ish;
I. ROUND 7
Round 7 starts with a low intro, sung first by Till, Luka following. Till has his energy back, or atleast part of it. Luka, as always, has his perfect voice, but he seems to be a little more expressive this time, as if he's enjoying the performance, just like the lyrics suggest. Everything goes seemingly smooth, and they receive holographic instruments that almost seem to parallel eachother: Till, an electric guitar, and Luka, a violin. And yet, as the second pre-chorus emerges, Luka approaches Till, putting his hands around his neck, a cruel reminder of Ivan. He is... dizzy, to say the least, even getting a nosebleed, but he doesn't stop singing until the very end, even though images of the one he's been taunted with appear on the screen behind them. His eyes seem to light up when he sees a familiar figure in the crowd, Mizi, somehow remembering her even with her hair completely different, veiled, and between millions of aliens. He reaches out, and Luka is obviously at least annoyed at this, either mad that his trick didn't work, or that Till destroyed a perfect performance. Even so, it's too late for Till: Right before getting a hold of Mizi's hand, he is shot in the neck, falling down. Mizi is.. devastated. A flashback of them as kids plays, with a xylophone instrumental. Then, the camera cuts back, from a happy, smiling Mizi, to one crying over Till's soon-to-be corpse. In his last moments, she takes his hair out of his face and cups it. He tries to caress her hand, and then his arm falls next to him as the light fades from his eyes, destined to look into the distance forever. The text "LUKA WIN" flashes on the screen, but even the double-winner is too distracted to care, as in a safe distance, yet right in front of him, is an injured Hyuna, crouched forward, without her usual, characteristic confidence. They stare blankly at eachother as the screen shows new text: SPECIAL GUESTS, paired with photos of a grieving Mizi and a shocked, in pain Hyuna. We are shown Luka advancing as the winner, the last one left, supposedly, and everything goes black.
II. LUKA
(I will have a lot to say for the both of them, unsurprisingly, but I feel like Luka is still a little bit in the lead... again. who is surprised)
From the first frames we see him in, his clothes are obviously more revealing that in previous rounds (using plural since we have seen part of his Round 4 outfit in the intro of ROMH), using not only the usual open back, but also a huge v-cut showing his chest, and his hip open, specifically where his branding is. I imagine Heperu would've chosen this to show off that it's his pet. Not only that, but his surgery scars are also shown off. I suppose it might be something to brag about here? Maintaining a pet human is probably already really expensive, so it's a differentiation of class if they also afford to have surgeries? I see it as probable. When he begins singing, we see something new. He's a lot more expressive, and it carries through the whole round. Not only that, but when his first high note reaches, he almost crouches down forward, as if he was struggling with it (even though he had more difficult notes in round 5.) Personally, for me, I don't think he was going to use his 'technique' from the start. Some may argue that it's his usual, but he got the biggest score in Alien Stage history in round 4 (I may be mistaken) against Durian, and Durian had no dead loved one that Luka could've used against... him? (I'm still confused about Durian, Acorn and.. Tortilla.😭) So he's obviously insanely talented and only uses it when he feels a threat. Most of Luka's actions in Round 7 felt risky, unplanned, and decided on the moment, which really is unlike him. This feels, like one of my previous posts say, like he was drugged, just like Till. In his daze, maybe he considered that Till would stop singing, or maybe, not even sing at all, and that he'll have an easy opponent. But no, Till proved strong, and then, it came to the next possible way he could 100% win: disorienting him. A thing others have pointed out.. Luka's fingers are probably very cold, and it mightve reminded Till that Ivan is a corpse now. One of the most cruel frames of an already very cruel series was, atleast for me, shown in this video: Luka holding in his laugh after his 'plan' (since, as i already said, i dont think it was actually planned) works. For me, it's another piece of proof that he wasn't in his right mind, the carefully built facade of his wouldn't have just broken by his own will. But, even though he could swear it worked, Till doesn't stop singing. Sure, he's dizzy, dazed, but he still is singing. Shock only comes again when Till sees Mizi in the crowd, and anger, or atleast annoyance, is easily readable on Luka's face. He even pauses singing, looking at Till reaching out for his God, always unattainable, now in the reach of his fingers, in a position I could describe as hesitant, confused. Even so, he gets a win as Till gets shot in the neck. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to revel in the victory, as he watches in shock, as 'the love of his life' appears in front of him, yet at a safe distance, injured. They stare at eachother, but it's different, it wasn't a blank gaze like in Round 5, it feels a lot more vulnerable.
I love how we've been shown past Luka's empty shell this round. Seeing him actually expressing himself, seemingly taking immense pleasure, almost in an euphoric, naive way, in the round around him. There is no way he genuinely enjoys it, or would've enjoyed it without.. exterior measures. We've seen him reacting to cameras around him in Sweet Dream. We can only imagine that was his truly 'sober' state. As I said, it's really amazing how we can see a more candid version of him.
III. TILL
From the start, it seems like Till has regained his spirit back. He's definetly more energetic than in Round 6, his hair is slightly messy again. His outfit, just like Luka's, is more revealing, but his branding has always been visible, unlike his opponent's. He is doing surprisingly well, not going down without a fight, maybe not going down at all! (I love being cruel) He's singing his heart out, every lyric he says showing desperation. And even though he was going so well, everything has an end. Because his declining mental state goes even more downhill as Luka acts like the freshly deceased Ivan, who left him with so many questions and dillemas. It feels like everything is crowding up on him, the huge stage feeling like a small box. His nose starts bleeding, and just as he was about to faint... He sees the love of his life, Mizi, in the crowd. She's reaching out to him. She's there to save him. He reaches towards her in happiness... Except he gets shot right before it. Mizi is finally reaching to him, right how he imagined when he felt like dying, after singing in that damned club. But just as you can't touch your own imagination, you can't touch a God.
Mizi is, and always will be unattainable. The moment he tried to touch her, the Universe is against him, once again. When he wanted to approach her, a powerful light engulfed him. When he died, it was back to pitch dark. In the flashback, it's implied that Till tried to escape, or atleast went against the rules, togheter with Mizi. They seem to be very close, as Mizi trusts him enough to hide, and bury her head into him. It feels affectionate, familiar, something Till holds onto, because he probably considers it one of his best memories. But nothing lasts. From a smiling, happy Mizi, it pans to the new her, now crying over Till, who was taking his last breaths. She gently brushes his hair out of his face, her hand holding it. In his last moments, atleast, he got what he wanted: Mizi's gaze on him, only on him, and just as always, he can't say anything to her. He just lightly chuckles, as his eyes lose light, and his arm falls next to him.
IV. IVAN
His intention was to make Till hate him. That's why he kissed him. He wanted to be forgotten. He already thought Till didn't care that much about him, so surely his actions would make him hate him? Wrong. Ivan was never Till's ray of hope. He was aware of it: Till only had eyes for Mizi. And yet, his death wasn't forgettable, like he thought. He used to mock Sua for her plan, saying that she'll only become trauma, and ironically, he did the exact same thing. Till sees Mizi as pure light, a goddess. Yet, he remembers Ivan in a shaky manner, a dark red veil over the flashback of the kiss. Mizi was his hope, and Ivan was his misery. Unfortunately, Ivan didn't realize this, considering himself to not be grief, but rather, nothing for Till. Oh, how wrong he was.
V. HYUNA
I really like the idea that the Patreon gave us. Its good to be confirmed that Hyuna, just like the others, is truly human, and by that I mean, flawed. Maybe I am interpreting it wrong, but from what my brain cooked up, she was.. somewhat willing to sacrifice a life (either Till or Luka) for the sake of humanity. (again, I might be wrong) We see another side to her in Round 7. She grabs Mizi and looks at her in a pleading way. She knows she's asking of her to see another of her friends die. Even so, she thinks it's better. I'm really curious about what she was doing on stage. Did she go after Mizi, because she saw she might've gotten caught again? Maybe.. she thought that Mizi was actually going to get Till, and she wanted to save Luka, too? You can never know.
VI. MIZI
First of all, she is still naive, which is so on brand for her. She went into a rescue mission, alone, with no weapons except for a smoke grenade. She still doesn't know what she has to do, and it's obvious. It seems like she took another route from Hyuna, who came up on the stage, while Mizi mixed with the crowd. Even so, I'm grateful that in his last moments, Mizi let Till rest. It was such an honest scene and I adored it. What I didn't adore was the parallels between her leaning over Tills body in Round 7, and her leaning over Sua's body in Round 1.
VII. PARALLELS
1. Till reaching towards Mizi, both in his hallucinations, and right before his death, where she still remains untouchable.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9863ae0ef61a0812b185959c94158bf0/0ac19303f3c5cff6-e9/s540x810/681908b1efbfea4a53b84f41762e1ed38614a84d.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3c0c06f61a5e21698995ca4ac90e0389/0ac19303f3c5cff6-95/s540x810/3199063012c5e1cce9371c354e0b3105f7e991e6.jpg)
2. "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE)
3. Mizi leaning over Sua's body (Round 1) and Mizi leaning over Till's body (Round 7)
4. "In a blink gone!", sang by Till, in this, the visuals parallel his Birthday reveal art.
5. Luka raising his hands to his face, parallels Ivan tracing his hands up his microphone (they even have the same timing from what I've seen).
6. Mizi looking at Till from her capsule in Round 2, with Mizi looking at Till through the screen during Round 7.
7. Mizi throwing the grenade and Till breaking Freddie in Round 2.
8. Luka's hands on Till's neck are a 'gentler' version of Ivan choking Till, so aliens wouldn't consider it as violence.
9. Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother in Round 5 and Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother at the end of Round 7.
10. The way Luka pulls Till's lip down reminds me of that one freaky Luka image..
VIII. LYRIC ANALYSIS
Blink Gone works for all characters, in my opinion. Every one of them lost something, in just a blink.
"The clock goes tick-tock, tick-tock" I can only imagine this referring to the fact that Till's life is soon to coming to an end.
Till sings the more pessimistic lyrics, while Luka sings the ones about forgetting what's in the past and enjoying the moment. As much as he could be taunting Till, he is, in a way, also reassuring himself. To forget everything: perhaps Hyuna. Hyunwoo's death. And not only these, but the experiments, surgeries, punishments he's been through. On this specific stage, he feels like he's truly alive.
As I've mentioned before: "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE).
IX. DISPELLING SOME THEORIES.
1. Till's microphone was closed.
Personally, when I first saw this... I was a bit.. yeah... I know this sounds rude, but I was a little bit startled when I saw how many people agreed😭 The light on Till's microphone is a heartbeat tracker, proven to be right by the fact it turned green when he saw Mizi. Even if it was closed, a microphone doesn't make you sound better. He wouldn't have been heard, which he was, so obviously, it wasn't closed.
2. The competition was rigged in Luka's favor.
I dont personally agree with this, especially considering the aliens' nature. They don't care about humans. I don't imagine them wanting the same winner twice. Personally, I find it more like them to rig it in Till's favor. Imagine: he won his first two round by external factors, a rookie, yet a musical genius, defeating a past winner. Doesn't that sound more like something they could market? This is my opinion, but I can't think about them rigging it in Luka's favor. (yes I made a whole rubric just for 2 theories that kind of..somewhat. annoy me)
X. MY THEORIES (This is MOSTLY incoherent)
First of all, I am sure that something BIG will happen next. They said Round 6 is only the half of ALIEN STAGE, so, without counting Sweet Dream, there should be 6 more videos. Minus round 7, five. Hyuna vs Mizi and then whoever wins versus Luka are only two, so there's no way that's everything thats going to happen. I find it really interesting that were going to have 5 videos with only 3 (SUPPOSEDLY) alive characters. I'm not sure about the theory of "they are still alive", since Vivimeng aren't really.. known for that. I'm quite 50/50 on it. I can't believe we went from "only Sua will die" to "Everyone will die"😭 Thats what I call development. Anyways, I'm just as excited as ever for what's next!
XI. CONCLUSION + MY OPINION
Honestly, I ADORED Round 7. It was so beautiful and gorgeous and deep and I simply love it. Im going to sound like a gatekeeper, or rude, but I'm quite dissapointed in the people that genuinely are starting to harass Luka fans, to say they hated Round 7, to hate on Vivimeng for the decision they made, saying that they destroyed it and that there's no satisfactory ending to it now.. MAYBE I'm just lucky and my favourite character is Luka, so I haven't felt the grief of losing my favourite yet, but even if I did, I wouldn't start blaming the AMAZING creators that work so hard. If you're curious, yes, as a Luka fan, I've been told off, I've been told I'm a horrible person, and it's only been 2 days, which is insane to me. There is just so much more about him than "ooh he's a manipulator!" again, I'm gonna sound extremely rude... I love that there are a lot of fans that came during Round 6, but I feel like the people 'leaving' the fandom right now are those same fans. maybe that's just me and I'm just angry at what's happening right now😭
I don't want to offend anyone, these are just my opinions, please take everything I said with a grain of salt!
( @cherry-blossom-sword80 here it is!! tagging some other people I'd like to see this :3 @verdantlights @sotogalmo @rockwgooglyeyes )
#alien stage#alnst#vivinos#alien stage round 7#alnst round 7#Round 7#Blink gone#alnst till#till alien stage#alien stage till#till alnst#luka alnst#luka alien stage#alien stage luka#alnst luka#ivan alnst#alnst ivan#alien stage ivan#ivan alien stage#alnst hyuna#hyuna alnst#hyuna alien stage#alien stage hyuna#mizi alien stage#alien stage mizi#mizi alnst#alnst mizi#alnst theory#honestly posting this is a huge gamble on my part#im ready to take the death threats from the intense luka haters
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Hiii!! Im really obsessed with your camp counsellor!james ,,, do you think you could do like a follow up of the previous one where they go to the bonfire tgt?? Love your writing and have a good day 🫶
Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! You have a good day too <3
cw: alcohol
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 897 words
James doesn’t know how much of your closeness to blame on booze.
It feels a bit silly to be so loose and laughy at nine pm, but he and the other counselors only have until ten thirty before the kids get out of their movie night. James suspects some of them are going to have to take a quick dunk in the lake before they rejoin their campers.
You’re not the least squiffy there, having had exactly as many beers as James but without the large frame to support them. You’re sitting close enough that your thigh is pressed to his on the wooden log, and when you gesture your arm brushes his bicep with every movement.
“No, no,” you’re saying, laughter ringing in your tone, “James is the kids’ favorite. No contest.”
“Ava’s cabin is huge, though,” another counselor argues. “She’s got kids that come back just to see her every year.”
“Yeah, but it’s only James’ first year.” You don’t catch the bit of pique in the more seasoned counselor’s voice, defending your stance lightly. James, roasting marshmallows for the both of you, keeps his mouth shut. “If he comes back next year, he’d have kids fighting over his cabin for sure.”
“I could never handle as many kids as Ava does, though,” James says, pulling the flaming marshmallows away from the fire and blowing them out. “Here, lovely, do you have your stuff ready?”
The distraction works. You hold up your graham crackers and chocolate eagerly, capturing a marshmallow between them and pulling it off the stick.
“Can’t believe you’re one of those people who just burns the whole thing,” you say. “I expected better from you, James.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were being beggars and choosers tonight.” He glances over as he readies his own s’more supplies, and you’re grinning, your eyes crackling with amusement and something else. “How do you like them done?”
“I take my time with it, so the outsides are brown but the insides are all melted.” You take a bite, not seeming too displeased despite the subpar quality of his marshmallow roast. “It’s like a brûlée.”
A laugh trips off James’ tongue. “Oh, it’s like a brûlée, is it? Fancy.”
You hum in prideful affirmation, polishing off your s’more quickly. James tries not to look too obviously pleased when your head drops to his shoulder.
He holds his s’more away from your hair, turning towards you to say lowly, “I appreciate the compliments, but you’re gonna get me in trouble. Some of the other counselors have been coming here for years.”
You make a breathy sound of amusement. “I’m just telling the truth. Look at this.”
You reach down and take his forearm in your hand. Warmth seems to emanate from your touch. James lets you bring his wrist up to eye level.
“Basically every kid at camp wanted to make you a friendship bracelet,” you say before letting his arm drop. It lands in the crease between your thigh and James’. “They all love you.”
Your head moves, face tipping back to look at him. You look really pretty. It’s hardly the first time James has noticed tonight, and certainly not unusual for you, but the firelight plays soft over your features and you’re smiling more than usual so he’s having an especially difficult time keeping his eyes off of you. Especially when you look at him like this, all sweet and happy with the light from the bonfire glancing across your eyes and your cheek squished into his shoulder. The sight of you makes James’ stomach ache.
“You’re everybody’s favorite,” you murmur.
The conversation around you fades into an indistinct thrum. You’re so close James can count your eyelashes, can feel your warm breath hitting his chin. If he were to kiss you, he knows you’d taste like graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows roasted not quite the way you like them. Maybe his lips would still be a little sticky with the same, unwilling to let you go.
James really wants to kiss you.
You take in a soft, quick inhale, and then your face turns back the way it was, looking towards the bonfire instead of up at him.
“That’s how I know no one will get mad at you,” you say. “You’re too easy to love.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” he replies. He reaches across you to finger the set of bracelets on your own wrist. “And maybe yourself not enough.”
You make a dismissive sound, nudging James with your elbow. “You’re going to have to bring yours with you if you come back next year. If the kids see you without them, it’ll break their little hearts.”
“Oh, I’m never taking these things off. Five hundred years from now, someone could dig up my grave and they’d just find a pile of bones and a bunch of string bracelets.”
Your body shakes against his as you laugh. The sound of it is as bright and clear as the stars above your heads, and in James’ opinion thrice as lovely.
“I’d be surprised if they last that long,” you say. “Hopefully they’re not the only thing you have to remember this place by.”
James still wants to kiss you terribly. He appeases the urge by dropping his lips to your head. “No, I’m not worried about that.”
#camp counselor!james potter#camp counselor!james potter x reader#james potter#james potter au#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders au#marauders x reader
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It's Christmas time
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: it's Christmas time and you come home. You meet your childhood friend (or rather enemy) Javier Peña.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/070d22427e7f2d0a05db05031531e9f1/2b8e8c1dd5614602-db/s500x750/aaa7cb485b877e4958c49f588af0a33c124d9b6a.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7e1669310d63d9f1b1bcd1f42784862c/2b8e8c1dd5614602-c7/s540x810/ec2df328b1e0db469742d47f5de524ab147a01ff.jpg)
TW: use of you, you have female features, no physical description of the female character or her age, no use of Y/N. AU and OOC!Javier. Reference to a previous relationship. Reference to Javier and main character childhood/adolescence. Using nicknames that our protagonists used as kids. Sweetness, sweetness, sweetness.
A/N: this is one of the sweetest oneshot I’ve ever written, but it’s Christmas time and so my heart needs love and sweetness too. If this is too sappy, which is likely, forgive me.
follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
Taglist: @harriedandharassed
Thanks @saradika-graphics for the dividers
Coming home has always been difficult for you. Especially for the Christmas holidays. The difficulty is not so much linked to the interminable lunches or dinners organized by your mother and the neighbors as to having to sit at the table for hours with the most unbearable, egocentric, vain man you've ever met, Javier Peña. Today Agent Javier Peña.
Since he has this title, he has been bragging about it all the time, talking about this or that operation, and you roll your eyes every time you hear him talking about his capture operations.
This talk about himself and how great he is happens every single Christmas, and every single Christmas since you were a little girl you have to sit across from him and listen to him mumble now about how much he had grown, now about how handsome he was, now about how good he was in school, now about his girlfriend who was the homecoming queen, now about him getting into the academy. And what's worse is that your mother, a distant aunt of yours do nothing but praise him, especially in your eyes.
This year you fear it won't be much different. They'll have you at the back near the kids and Javier in front, wow.
Your journey is intentionally very, very slow. You would have preferred to spend it in your apartment crying. Yes, crying because your long-time boyfriend dumped you after a few days before the Christmas holidays. In recent years, you had managed to avoid going back to your parents' house with the excuse of having to spend the holidays with your boyfriend, but now this excuse is no longer there.
What an asshole, you find yourself thinking for a moment. For a moment you think you would like to vent to your mother and maybe cry in her arms, but then you think that would give her the perfect excuse to try to get closer to the cocky one. You roll your eyes, it's going to be a really nice holiday!
When you arrive in front of your parents' house, the first thing you notice is the myriad of lights all around the house, the disproportionate garland on the main door and the trees all full of lights at the sides of their driveway. The second thing is the car of the vain and megalomaniac one and you find yourself gripping the steering wheel even tighter, if you could you would just say hello and go back home, but you can't.
When you knock on the door, you hear a little buzz, then footsteps, and finally the lock clicks and the door opens. You expect to see your mother or father's face and instead he appears before you.
You're almost sure it's him, after all, the eyes are his and the expression on his face is the same, but you almost struggle to reconcile the memory of that young man with the one that stands before you. His face is definitely less round than last time, his eyes are more penetrating than those he had as a boy, his physique is leaner and more athletic. Your gaze wanders over him, noticing a simple red sweater and a pair of tight, very tight black pants.
“Can I help you?” he asks you in a friendly tone and looking you up and down, obviously he didn't recognize you.
“This is my home, you snotty one.” you reply by walking past him and entering.
“Weirdo, is that you?” he asks squinting and frowning. He closes the door and looks back at your face, scrutinizing you as if to find some similarities with the girl he hadn't seen for a while.
“In the flesh.” you reply, lifting your chin up not only to look him in the eye, but also with pride because today, unlike a few years ago, you know who you are.
He smiles askance and in that moment you recognize him completely, you recognize that sly expression, that twinkle in his eyes, but if when you were little you sometimes suffered his pranks and played just as many of his own, today you are a woman and if he were to dare to make a single comment or say a single word out of place...
“I find you good, you're... different.” he tells you, placing his hands on his hips for a moment. “Do you want to give me your coat?” he asks you in an almost gallant manner and for a moment your jaw is about to hit the ground, the surprise is so great, you were expecting some idle comment, some little word and instead, apart from the use of those nicknames from when you were children, for the moment he’s treating you normally, if not more. You take off your coat and hand it to him, you're about to politely ask how he is when you're interrupted by an unmistakable, shrill voice.
“Javi, who is this?” it’s your mother coming out of the kitchen wearing her historic kitchen apron with a big reindeer sewn on and her red oven gloves, “Oh, my sweet little sugarplum!” your mother exclaims in a falsetto, making you feel suddenly uncomfortable and hugging you tightly, “I was hoping we’d meet Mark this year!” she adds, placing her hands on your forearms and looking you over. “Are you eating? You look so wasted.” here she starts with her exclamations and questions in rapid succession, “Did you see who's with us again this year? Do you remember Javier? You always played together when you were kids,” you roll your eyes, nodding almost absentmindedly “he's always spent Christmas with us, only this year he came without his... um, what was your girlfriend's name, darling?”
“Lorraine.” Javier replies, lowering his head and almost hugging your coat to himself. You can see that he's uncomfortable, but if in the past you would have smiled at seeing him like this, today it doesn't seem right.
“Um, Mom, do you mind if I go say hello to Dad too?” you say in an attempt to escape that vortex that is undoubtedly affectionate, but at times extremely suffocating.
“Javier, would you accompany her?” your mother asks in her ever-present attempt to get you two attached.
“Mom!” you call her back. “It’s my house, don’t worry.” You try to avoid further embarrassment with him.
“Relax,” he says, “I’ll put your coat down, and in the meantime why don’t you tell me what’s new in your life?” he adds.
“Oh, well… so, I'm leaving you!” your mother exclaims.
Precisely.
When you're alone, you clear your throat almost embarrassedly, “Sorry about earlier, my mom's always the same nosy one.”
He smiles with his head down, biting the inside of his cheek, “I know, but I still love her. You know, after... how many years have we known each other?”
You smile, meeting his gaze again, “All my life.” For a few moments you remain as if embarrassed by each other's presence and yet, as you just said you've known each other forever, there shouldn't be any awkwardness at all.
“So, are you engaged?” he asks.
You could tell him the truth, but you don’t know to what extent he has changed and if he can turn the truth against you and revive your mother's initial idea of setting you up with Javier.
“Yes. Yes, indeed. It's just... you know, he was busy so...” you stammer, not knowing what to say.
He nods, looking you in the eye, almost as if he sensed that you weren't telling the truth, but he doesn't want to expose you, is it a superpower he acquired by becoming an agent? Oh, what nonsense, you say to yourself, discarding this hypothesis as absurd and senseless.
Your family has always had its own traditions. In fact, since you were little, your family gets together a few days before Christmas Eve to tell each other about what you didn't experience together, you have breakfast together, you begin to prepare succulent foods and delicious drinks and then you all gather together at the table.
You and Javier spent those days as children chasing each other up and down the stairs, pulling each other's hair and sometimes even toys. In short, seeing you was never a pleasure because you always had a new wound from those holidays.
Settling into your old room for a few days and finding it exactly as you left it a few years ago has a strange effect on you.
“It must be strange to come home, but nice to find it the way you left it,” comments Javier who accompanied you carrying your suitcase even though you initially protested when you heard that his very gallant offer.
“That's it.” you simply say, looking at the pink walls and the equally pink blanket, the heart-shaped rug. “I loved Barbies,” you add when you realize that Javier is also looking around.
“Yes, I remember,” he says smiling. “I remember hiding one once.” He continues, “Barbie the Bride.” He adds, his smile becoming almost embarrassed.
“You hid it in the oven.” you say. “Too bad my aunt turned it on a couple of minutes later, resulting in me losing the doll, but then having to throw away the food and the appliance.”
“And to make me pay, you chased me to my room and beat me up.” You find yourself smiling at those memories. “We were two nightmares.”
“You were!” you point out.
“Oh, sure, you were always the girl who suffered,” he replies.
“No, I used to react, but to your constant provocations.”
There’s a moment of silence during which you’re about to ask if he wants to let you settle in, but then he adds, “It’s nice to see you again and have you back with us.”
“Yes. Maybe tomorrow you can come over for breakfast with us.” You suggest, remembering that your mother always makes her gingerbread cookies.
“Gladly. But first I have to take my old man to the doctor, you know he has a bit of arthritis.” he tells you.
“Oh, how is he? Will he be with us again this year?” you ask him.
“He has his aches and pains, you know. Unfortunately, no. You know, as he gets older he prefers to stay at home, among his things,” he explains, shrugging.
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry. Say hello to him, of course. And give him a kiss.” you tell him, “Tell him I always remember him with such affection.” you tell him smiling and making him smile.
“I will. I'm going now, so goodnight." He says goodbye with a half smile, leaving you to unpack your bags with a new, pleasant and unexpected version of Javier in your head.
The next day, you are woken up by the smell of coffee, the clatter of dishes and your father's voice. You find yourself smiling as you turn over in bed, it's nice to be back home after all!
You go downstairs still wearing your pajamas, “‘morning,” you greet your father with a kiss on the cheek and a half-hug to your mother who is busy making gingerbread cookies.
You sit at your parents’ kitchen peninsula and smile as you watch them move around the kitchen together, performing the same gestures that have been happening for almost thirty years now.
“Did you sleep well, little bird?” your dad asks you. “The coffee was just made.”
“You shouldn't have,” you tell him, as he places your little cup with a stocking and a little holly painted on it in front of you. “Anyway, yes. I slept very well. Going back to my room wasn’t as traumatic as I thought.”
“Mark, don’t you make coffee for you in the morning?” your mother asks you curiously, as she arranges her cookie man-shaped biscuits on a tray and gives you a curious look.
“Oh, well, no… let’s just say we weren’t there yet. Everyone was still sleeping at home!” you exclaim quickly, only to realize a moment later that you’ve been talking about your ex-boyfriend in the past tense.
“Was?!” your mother exclaims. “Are you hiding something from us, sugar?” your mother asks curiously.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, leave her alone! Maybe she’s just confused!” your father exclaims, reaching for the tray of cookies.
“I'm her mother, I have a sixth sense for these things. And you,” she continues, turning to your father. “Hands off. The cookies are also for Javi, his father, my sister and her two daughters who should be here any minute by the way.”
You don't have time to smile at this exchange of jokes when at that moment there's a knock at the door, “Oh, honey, open the door, please” your mother says as she fixes her hair and quickly removes a few misplaced pots.
You reach the door and open it, Javier is at your door and it's the first time in your entire life that you find him beautiful. He gives you a smile that is so warm and dazzling that something deep inside you falters and your heart starts to beat very fast in your chest.
“Hi.” You greet him, finding yourself standing there in front of the door with a dazed look on your face, blocking his passage.
“Good morning. Nice pj’s!” he exclaims.
Your eyes widen as you remember what you're wearing. What a huge embarrassment!
Javi comes in and gives you a kiss on the cheek and you remain there, speechless. As if you had never received or given a kiss until today!
Behind him appears Peña senior, his hair is now completely white and he walks a little hunched over, but his warm smile will never change. As soon as he sees you he greets you warmly as if he were greeting a daughter, “How nice to see you again, my sweet little lady!”
You smile at him, “Hi, me too.”
You remember how many times he separated you and his son from hair-raising or falling down the stairs, how many times he consoled you after Javi had bitten your hand or scratched your arm. Today, if you think back on it, it makes you smile, but back then you were really feeling bad.
You and Javier are sitting down to breakfast, he tells you about his job and how super busy he always is and how often he has to find an alternative way to get to the truth. You listen to him and for the first time you notice how passionately he talks about his work. You feel almost fascinated by the way he talks to you and at the same time by the attention he gives you when he offers you the tray with the biscuits, he pours you orange juice without you even having to say anything. Then, he asks you about your job, if you love it, what you do, the pros and cons of your job. You had a totally different memory of him and his way of speaking and addressing you, he’s pleasant.
You soon realize that your parents and his father are intentionally leaving you time together and you can't help but smile with a certain embarrassment.
“So, does this Mark even exist?” he asks you, lowering his voice.
You dart your eyes from one corner of the room to another, fearing that your mother might have heard his question.
“Does it offend you if I call him an asshole?” he continues, raising an eyebrow.
You’re about to tell him to mind his own business, but then you think better of it. “No. You’re right.”
“Do you want to talk to me about him?” he asks, looking at you with his huge brown eyes and you can't help but talk to him incessantly about him, about Mark, about your relationship, about how he made you feel unique and special, but how both you and he were so focused on yourselves and your work that in the end you didn't see each other that much, maybe — you only realize at that moment talking to him about it — that yours had become a routine rather than a love story. Yes, there had been that, but in the end neither one decided to take a decisive step towards the other.
Instead, he told you, he had arrived at a decisive moment, he believed he had found his soul mate, he believed that she was even expecting a child from him and then everything had dissolved for him like snow at the seaside. You see him, his eyes suddenly become sad and you can't help but squeeze his hand tightly and he looks up at you. You don't say anything at that moment, just let those confidences of yours be absorbed into each other soul and heart.
“You’ve changed.” You tell him with a small smile. “For the better, I mean. You’re… Less…” You’re looking for a word that isn’t offensive because at the moment all you can think of are non-positive adjectives.
He notices your hesitation so he just smiles, “I hope whatever it was doesn’t apply anymore.”
“Yes, that’s right.” You stand there looking at each other for almost several seconds then you clear your throat and cross your arms at breast level.
The rest of the day you spend walking around your hometown with Javier who was almost pushed by your mother and then lightly elbowed by his father as well. It's obvious by now, but if until yesterday at this time you’d have wanted to run away, now you're out buying some other little decorations, drinking a hot chocolate together and telling each other every little detail of your life.
You like him. He’s pleasant.
When you return, your mother invites the Peñas to dinner and, exchanging a quick, silent glance, they accept. Not that you mind, at least you spend time with someone who listens to you and with whom you can talk freely.
Every now and then you exchange a glance, a little smile and here and there your memories flash by, either of yourselves or of your parents.
You feel the heat rising to your cheeks every now and then, “Are you okay?” Javier asks you placing a hand on yours and the gesture didn’t escape your mother and your aunt who coughed as if to underline what happened.
“So, goodnight.” you greet him as you open the door.
Someone behind you coughs, getting your attention, “Um, guys,” you look at your father in confusion, “do you realize where you are?” he asks you by pointing his finger upwards.
A branch of mistletoe hangs down toward you and you find your eyes locked on each other's faces. You smile awkwardly at each other.
“Do you mind if...?” he asks you uncertainly.
You shake your head feeling like your life is suddenly changing before your eyes and you wonder if in your future, a future perhaps not too distant, there really is a place for him, for your enemy now friend, Javier Peña.
#javier peña#soft!javier peña#soft! javier pena#javier pena narcos#javier pena fanfiction#christmas one shot#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as javier peña#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe
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90 Day Baby Daddy - Adam - HH
Previous Chapter <- -> Next Chapter
Chapter 2
Author's Note: Plot lost itself a little but it'll be explained in the next chapters! I have no idea how long this will be so hopefully we'll find out together
CW: Adam cursing in front of babies, mentions of stalking (but not really emphasized)
Enjoy
Arrem looks worriedly over at her friend typing furiously at her laptop.
“Hey man, I’m just saying…maybe get a student loan? Instead of like selling feet pics to save up for some semesters for college seems a little much, right?”
“I really don’t want to be in even more debt to be honest with you and I am NOT selling feet pics! I was just writing someone’s essay for a couple of bucks” Y/n made a face before picking up her coffee. “At least we can mooch off of some wifi around here”
Arrem nodded and toasted her cup before taking a sip. Her eyes occasionally flitting back and forth to her book and to Y/n.
“Okay what is up, you’ve been staring at me looking like you wanna explode or something” Y/n took another sip of her coffee and placed it down on the coaster.
“I still can’t believe that…” Arrem leaned closer, whispering, “I still can’t believe Adam is the guy that knocked you up…why didn’t you tell us?? We could’ve sued the pants off of the guy for unpaid child support”
Y/n snorted, shaking her head. Arrem was always the practical one, even when her suggestions tend to be a little psychotic and the only one who knows her kid’s actual father.
She looked at her friend, dressed simply with her boots and long sleeves. She’s sometimes jealous that Arrem and the rest of the guys managed to finish their studies with relatively no problem.
Pen and Arrem took the same degree and are studying for their work licenses, working in the diner for the mean time to have some extra cash in the bank.
Fish finished his teaching degree a year before them, gave up teaching after seeing how fucking dumb the students of today are, thus crushing his hope for the younger generation and sunk his savings in a diner that’s surprisingly doing well to support him and his mom.
Which was sweet.
It’s a little difficult to not feel inadequate when you’re stuck someplace you can’t seem to get out of. She did try to finish college, hell she only had a couple of classes left to but being heavily pregnant and having to walk everywhere just to get to class just got too difficult. The judgemental stares didn't help either.
She had to drop out and take care of her baby.
It’s not all bad, she’s grateful for the kid and couldn’t imagine not having her after seeing her after birth. She just wishes she got pregnant on her own terms. Hell after graduating would've been nice.
Y/n frowned, she still couldn’t remember how she got into Adam’s bed in the first place and it’s really bothering her when she has some time for herself to think.
“I’m serious!”
Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, “Hm?”
Arrem sighs, taking a bite of her hashbrown viciously. Girl loves her potatoes. “I mean if it weren’t for him—”
“I know but it’s no use dwelling in the past...besides you love the little bean, right?” Y/N grinned.
Her friend crossed her arms and looked away, “Yeah, I do…she’s got spunk but what’ll you say when she grows up? Toddlers are smart sometimes you know”
“I’ll get to that bridge when I get there right now, I’m enjoying the baby ride”
Arrem uncrossed her arms and turns to look at her, “I’m still sorry…I feel partly responsible for what happened, I shouldn’t have given you all that alcohol and I should’ve kept an eye on you”
Y/n looks at Arrem in surprise. Arrem looks so mad at herself. Has she been holding on to this guilt the whole time?
“Hey, don’t feel responsible, I’m pretty sure I went and wandered off on my own anyway, it just so happens to be Adam I got with”
Her knowing Adam being the father of her child was no baseless accusation.
She knew it was Adam that she got with because she remembered waking up sore but utterly satisfied and his huge autograph written on her stomach along with his “phone number” …in permanent ink.
It took her 3 days to completely scrub all the ink off, (After having Arrem take a picture of course, the picture is tucked away in her little journal along with the rest of the merch she has of Adam’s band. She hates how obsessed she was before the incident)
“Shit man, don’t look now” Arrem mumbled against the lid of her coffee cup.
“Huh?” Y/n discreetly looks at the door, the bell jingling indicating a new customer.
Murmurs start to echo in the small coffee shop and not the usual kind of white noise either. It’s more…excited, quick, hushed whispers and the snapping of phone cameras.
“Yo…hook me up with a venti flat white, would ya? Ya’ll got supersize?”
Y/n internally groaned at hearing that annoying accent. That fucking drawl she thought was charming at one point. Adam has this way of speaking that you can’t really tell where he’s from, like a mix of speech patterns you can’t pinpoint. Y/n just chalked it up to travelling around so much.
The barista flinched at the order before nervously looking at the large man. With that boyish attitude on interviews, Adam still looks intimidating with his studs and spikes with golden eyes lined with what looks like dark smudged charcoal.
Okay she needs to stop.
“Uh sir...that’s more than enough espresso to give a normal man heart palpitations…are you sure?”
Adam looks at the barista like he’s stupid. “Then serve it to me in those little cups then?”
The barista opened his mouth before shutting it closed, nodding his head in defeat, “Yes sir that’ll be $149.99 please”
Y/n choked on her iced coffee at hearing the price, gaping as Adam easily pulled out a black card and swiping it at the machine. “Jesus man, I didn’t even know this place have those”
Arrem shrugged, tapping on her phone, “He says he’s a struggling artist but you never know with types like him”
“Helloooo ladies”
The two women let out annoyed sighs, one rolling her eyes before looking up at Adam.
“Adam” Arrem nodded, lifting her cup at him, “Big fan”
Adam gave her a finger gun before looking over at Y/n expectantly.
Y/n looks at Adam with a raised brow, judging him from head to toe. “Not so big fan” She smiled at him almost sickly sweet.
Adam huffs, taking a sip of his heart stopping coffee. “Right sooo…” He looks at her awkwardly trying to keep his cool.
It doesn’t help that a bunch of nosy fucks are filming him right now. His PR manager is so gonna fry his ass later.
“Oh! Right…here!” he shoved his hand down his tight leather pants, pulling out a cloth headband, pink and wrinkled with what looks like a fake rhinestone in the middle of it. “Your brat dropped this!” Adam grinned, handing it over to Y/n. He looked almost proud of himself for keeping it safe till now.
Y/n blinked at Adam before looking down at the thing suspiciously, it looked too…expensive to be her baby’s. Before she could protest that it’s impossible to be Addie’s, Arrem nudged her foot with hers.
“Dude...”
Y/n looked at her friend before finally noticing the café’s patrons trying to discreetly tune in to their conversation.
She bit her lip as Adam’s grin widened almost wickedly at seeing her resolve crumble and taking the hairband from his hand.
“Right…thank you SO much Adam, my baby’s been missing this…thing for a few days” Y/n turned the clip around inspecting it. It was shockingly girly, looking at it now she does remember panic buying a ton of baby girl stuff before Addie was born. Maybe she forgot about this particular hairband?
All in all, it doesn’t look too suspicious. Just a normal run of the mill hair clip.
Once Y/n took the ribbon and tied it to her bag, Adam smirked before turning away to sit at the corner booth at the back, the rest of his bandmates coming into the shop to sit at his table.
“Never noticed Addie wears ribbons like this” Arrem nodded at the hairband.
Y/n doesn’t want to make a scene and shrugged, not knowing what to say.
This was the first time she ever saw this hair clip too.
Y/n couldn’t seem to escape Adam lately. From the sleepy part of the city she knew and love turned into the #1 spot for tours, making her daily life seem a little more…ad conscious. Billboards of Adam’s face promoting his new album or a new music video that they’re going to shoot somewhere nearby or other bands opening for Adam playing non stop in TVs in the grocery stores.
Adam had snuck into her life again, remembering her name this time and even giving out his real number. Which she hasn't tried to call.
It wasn’t so bad, the vibes suddenly started becoming energetic with tourists coming in with all the popup events coming in.
Adam would travel around and would always come back after some months to “catch a break” here before going off again.
Maybe she’s feeling a little too full of herself into thinking that a famous rockstar is following her around but it was a little strange.
Sometimes she feels like someone is watching but when she looks around, no one is there. Or it's some rando not even paying attention to her.
But then who else would leave new baby stuff at her doorstep? Definitely not some good Samaritan. Her friends were pretty stumped too when she called to thank them for the gifts.
It was too much to think about and just let it happen.
“Damn how expensive are the frozen vegetables now…?” She mumbled, placing the generic store brand packet in the cart. The grocery was thankfully quiet, the early morning giving her some semblance of peace with the old folks doing their shopping and the sleepy night shifters minding their own business.
Addie gurgled, babbling and taking a bite of her teething ring as she tries to reach for a rubber duck hanging from the shelf.
A large hand plucked the toy from the shelf and handed it to the baby, making Addie squeal happily.
“I’ve never heard you laugh at vegetables before baby…that’s new…” Y/n’s voice trailed off seeing Adam, smiling at her kid and making a rubber duck squeak in his fist.
“Are you serious??”
Adam’s eyes flickered up at her and grinned, “Hey angeltits, looking gorgeous as usual”
“Man your crush on me is really obvious…your groupies must be so sick of seeing me with you”
Adam recoiled from her, handing the duck over to Addie. “Bitch you’re lucky to be in my presence”
Y/n snorts, putting a can of sauce into her basket, “And yet you’re somehow around us whenever you’re ‘on break’ “
Adam made a face and kept quiet, he doesn’t have a good comeback he has to admit so he turned to Addie, “Mommy’s being a cunt huh princesss? Yes she iissss”
Y/n’s eyebrow twitched and pushed Adam’s face away from her laughing kid, “Can you not curse around my baby??”
He only rolled his eyes before looking down at the sorry excuse of groceries in the cart. Something in his gut recoiled.
| What do you mean?? She can’t be mine!
“Your choices suck ass Y/n” Adam frowned, taking the cart and started shoving actual food into the cart.
| Well...why wouldn’t she tell me then?
“H-hey! It’s not my fault this place has limited stuff-Adam!” Y/n cringed as he grabbed stuff left and right not even checking for the price or sales or even if it was qualified for a coupon before dropping them into the cart.
He even grabbed some of those yogurt bites for Addie.
“Adam” Y/n grabbed his arm, before he could grab a bag of fruit. “Listen…I appreciate the stuff and the concert tickets—”
“Which you didn’t go to and how did you even know it was me sending you those packages?” He pointed out.
She rolled her eyes, “Maybe next time, change your name on the Amazon packages before sending it to my house” Y/n sighs, rubbing her face tiredly. Adam, I can’t afford this stuff…if you think I can you’re sorely mistaken”
Raising a brow, Adam placed the bag of fruit in to the filled cart and started wheeling it to the check out, “And what makes you think I’m letting you pay?”
The cashier started to swipe the stuff in one by one, the prices going up and up.
“Adam—”
“We need to talk Y/n”
Y/n frowned, looking at the man staring nonchalantly at the numbers on the screen before tapping his card easily to pay for everything.
There wasn’t a hint of joking around on his face which was unusual for the normally unserious musician.
Adam took Addie from the cart and carried her, escorting Y/n to the parking lot and letting the cart jockeys help with loading the groceries into the back of his truck.
Y/n wet her lips, already having an idea on what the talk would be with the way Adam was looking at Addie and the way he’s so familiar with holding her…
Shit.
I may have rushed it a little lol
Tags: @sniigura
#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel adam x reader#90 Day BBD#adam hazbin x reader#xreader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x you
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The Memory Keeper
Chapter 5: Legacy.
Pairing: Noa x human!reader
Warnings: Description of character death. Description of injuries. Some violence.
Words: 5.6k+ (like... how??)
Summarize: A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.
A/N: For the love of God, IT IS FINALLY HERE! And don't ask me how he knows about Picasso. He just knows. (Nope, I'm not talking about who you think I'm talking about). I hope you'll like it!
Enjoy your reading 😊
The Memory Keeper Masterlist / Planet of The Apes Masterlist
Narrating wasn't the problem. It never had been. Even if the tears always joined the party and your throat formed such tight knots that it became difficult to form the necessary words. You'd done it before, years ago, you'd done it.
"Where is he?" Noa had asked. "Dead." You had answered, in a whisper.
You were vigorously plucking, blade by blade, the grass you had been sitting on. Each blade pulled from the ground stood for every tear your body wanted to cry, but which you swallowed before they could form.
You didn't really understand why he wanted to know when you had told him you'd found a horse for him, that it would only take a few days, just a few days, and then they could both, he and Raka, go about their business.
So why did he want to know?
At that simple word, you noticed that his eyes were searching for something in the depths of his thoughts, and he suddenly crouched down in front of you, almost waiting for you to unravel the whole story of this Caesar. This Caesar whose name he had already heard through the masks, through Raka, but who made no sense to him when it came to you. This Caesar who had to be someone else. This Caesar who couldn't be the previous two.
Noa watched as you mentally counted the blades of grass you plucked from the ground and tossed a little further. Your eyes were telling a story. And with the short time he'd spent with you, he knew how rare it was. But this Caesar could obviously work miracles, and that made him curious.
You knew that Noa was tilting his head more and more, as you tried to lower yours even further to the ground, almost wishing you could dig a hole and bury yourself in it to prevent him from watching a film you'd like to forget. The heavy images in your head acted like weights, and gravity became a constant struggle not to curl up completely on the ground.
…
Dead.
And those heavy images that kept flashing by. Such heavy images…
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You had seen him fall.
Maurice at his side, one hand desperately stroking Caesar's leg, almost as if for comfort, who had just collapsed on one side. The lifeless body. The soothed face.
The smile you had flashed just a second earlier dropped as your blurred vision took over, and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning.
Maurice sang a series of hoots in such distress that it didn't take long for the apes to realize what was happening, as Rocket rushed to Caesar's lifeless body. You had wanted to do the same, running to him, trying something, a cardiac massage, blowing air into his lungs, anything, but your legs wouldn't let you.
Because they knew better.
So they gave up on you. You ignored the pain of your knees hitting the rocky ground. Your eyes searched frantically for his as if he were suddenly going to open them and reassure everyone that he was all right. And the more you tried to see his green eyes again, the more your throat tightened into a knot so intense it hurt. The walls of your throat twisted with such force that swallowing became impossible.
He was going to open them. He had to. He must open them.
But seconds passed like minutes without anything happening, and a stab slowly sank into your chest, forcing you to tighten your arms around it as you refused to take your eyes off Caesar. The sharp pain coursing through your body took its time to twist your stomach, and a sob churned in your mouth, unable to escape.
If his eyes didn't open, maybe you'd see his ribcage rise. Maybe you'd catch a glimpse of his lungs, hidden behind the muscles of his chest, gasping for oxygen. Maybe you'd missed it, so if you lingered long enough, maybe you'd see his chest inflate, if only a little, just a tiny bit… " Inflate, please inflate" you addressed it in silence, wishing that his ribcage would somehow prove to you that he was still there.
But his thorax remained silent.
Then your eyes travelled back to his face. And there was no longer any doubt. His features, so familiarly hardened by a scowl that naturally stuck to him after all those years of fighting, protecting and providing for his clan, had relaxed into a serenity that had belonged only to Cornelia, only to his sons, to behold. A serenity that Caesar, on occasions when you respectfully teased the hell out him, would secretly grant you.
There could be no more doubt as your tears spilled down your cheeks, unable to move in front of Caesar, in front of the one who had decided to keep you safe.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
On the rare days when you were reminded that you'd never see again the green eyes of the ape who had accepted you as one of his own, you wondered if there was anything you could have done. Maybe if you'd pushed harder on your leg muscles, even if it meant straining them, maybe you could have taken action and tried to bring him back to life. If you'd seen the crossbow bolt embedded deep between his ribs earlier, if you could have removed it… And as is often the case, with "ifs" a whole world could be remade.
You kept pecking at the blades of grass with your fingers, and as you didn't seem to want to delve any deeper into the story being told behind your veiled eyes, Noa decided that maybe you needed some help to talk.
"How?"
Noa was careful with his words, lest you shut down entirely and the emotions he could easily read on your face fade back into oblivion. It was easier when he could see your emotions, because he could adjust his attitude accordingly and skillfully get what he wanted.
You signed a single word to him, not finding the heart to pronounce it, "killed."
The wheels of his brain began to spin and Noa suddenly wondered if your Caesar hadn't been killed like his father had been, by the same apes who had plundered his village. The same apes he was trying to find to bring his clan back home, whatever the cost. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together in his head. He wanted to know the story, he was becoming almost impatient, perhaps lacking empathy for the loss you had suffered and which obviously affected you greatly, but he was eager to know if he was right in his train of thought.
His eyes were drawn to your hip, on which you seemed to be leaning less in your cross-legged position. He had the impression that it was higher up, while your posture was slightly tilted to the left, as if your pelvis on the right was raised by an inch or two.
What if you'd been injured when your Caesar died?
Noa moved his arm up, and the movement drew your eyes to follow his hand, slightly folded in on itself, as it pointed to your hip.
"Wounded." he observed. "When your Caesar died?"
Surely, if you confirmed his words, it would be one step closer to the accuracy of his hypothesis.
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Screams. Piercing. Human. It didn't take overdeveloped hearing to hear them, and Koba gloated at the thought of a human suffering.
It hadn't been his first intent to go and check. Caesar had asked him to keep an eye on the outer perimeter of the forest to ensure there were no intruders, and that was exactly what he intended to do. At least, until those cries disturbed his watch.
A human female.
The agony that struck his sensitive eardrums was only a few hundred meters away, and he would have liked to have left her where she was, no matter what happened to her, the piercing pain of her groans made it clear that she would eventually lose her life, and consequently she was no threat to the colony.
Koba began to move from branch to branch when a deep voice, this time a male, bellowed angrily, and suddenly the sobs echoing through the valley seemed to be muffled.
This, however, was more annoying.
The leather around your wrists, head and ankles was sticking to your skin. Drops of sweat beaded on your forehead and puddled around the strap that sheared your skull. You felt like your skin was burning under the leather edges and you swore that the moment they took it off, your skin would stick to the torturous object, peeling off like the skin of an orange. You could only grit your teeth at the thought.
Tears mixed freely with sweat and you weren't sure which one was burning your eyes. All you knew was that the drops were tumbling down your temples and pooling in the hollow of your ear before cascading in a tiny waterfall down your lobe and crashing onto the surgical table that supported your body.
You stared up at the blurred ceiling above you, and even if you wanted to look away, the leather strap around your head prevented you from making any movement.
It would soon be over.
You reassured yourself as best you could, the scientists' words still engraved in your mind:
"What if… we combined?" One of them had suggested as if you weren't already there in the room. "Combined?" asked his colleague. "Dislocated knee and fractured hip." Explained the first. "We know about dislocation. The tissues regenerate in 2 days if we put the limb back where it belongs, and in 4 days if we let it hang."
The second explained, laughing as he recalled an experiment that was successful for him, but a disaster for you, "The other day, Weston even had the idea of tying a rope to her dislocated elbow to see if the pull exerted would make healing longer or impossible, and this dumbass almost succeeded in making her lose her elbow!" he sneered. "She must have had a tough time of it!" The first man's eyes widened, but he couldn't help chuckling. "She's being paid for it." The second man shrugged.
Paid for. As if you'd had any choice. That day when the ALZ-113 test came back positive. That day when, to the utter disbelief of everyone in the room, including you, they'd gone ballistic, because how could it be? How could you be positive for this virus without any symptoms? Without degrading yourself mentally? Physically? How could you still stand up and not cough your lungs out?
You were only supposed to be immune. You were part of the group that had been commandeered for several months to try and understand why some people couldn't be infected. This group of people selected after lengthy observation following exposure to the virus.
For 3 months. 3 months with a virus test at the end of each.
1 month of exposure to the virus.
No symptoms. Test. Test negative.
1 additional month.
Still no symptoms. Test negative.
1 last month.
Free of symptoms. Test.
Positive.
And the panic was on.
Human vileness hardly surprised you anymore, but these scientists were bound to receive some awards for their cruelty.
"Okay, here's what I propose, we try the hip dislocation but we're going to offer a bit of a challenge to the body." The second man replied. "A challenge?" The first one asked. "You're new to this program, so you don't know everything yet, but we've taken it to the next level, no longer trying to find out what the virus regenerates or how it does it…"
The second scientist then grabbed a hammer from the makeshift workbench set up earlier, and your pupils suddenly dilated at the sight of the tool swinging at the end of a string, dangling from the scientist's finger. Your blood ran cold and tension began to contract all your muscles, unconsciously preparing for the shock.
"We're looking for the limits." The scientist concluded, gripping the hammer handle firmly. "I… I'll get the anesthetic." The first scientist stated, however the more experienced one stopped him. "It only wastes the product. Remember, the virus regenerates any cell it considers sick or dead."
Oh, and how you wished with all your being that you could just fight back and rip off those straps whose leather had become all too familiar to your skin. Today, it was going to hurt. You knew it, it wasn't new, it always hurt and your only line of defense was to grit your teeth and pray that it would happen quickly. But that hammer. Oh you could only imagine, no, your body already knew how much raw, stabbing pain it would cause. Even a stab was more bearable. Even before the flat of the hammer made contact with the targeted part, you could feel your bones cracking and shattering. Each splinter of bone would sink into your muscles, your inner epidermis, and why not shear off the more protuberant veins running along your thigh and hip.
You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, to the point of twisting the joints of your pelvis, as if your body were trying to hide as far as possible those bones already well protected under the layer of muscle, fat and skin that formed a bulwark between them and the outside world.
The two scientists must have thought you were a ridiculous worm, squirming to get your body away from their painfully intrusive hands, but the straps were doing their job. The tinkling of the straps, as you tried to remove your wrists from their grip, drew the attention of the scientists, who stared at you scornfully. A ridiculous worm that could not escape the boot that would crush it.
The first impact ripped through your flesh and your face contorted into a grimace, a taste of iron spread through your mouth and the pressure you exerted on your jaw to keep it shut sent a shower of needles down your cheeks and up to your temples, where the blood was pounding a beat that made you wish you could bang your head on the floor.
You didn't want to give them the pleasure of hearing your screams. Not now, not on the first blow.
If they wanted to hear them, they'd have to come and get them.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
It may have been a long time ago, but the memory remained imperishable. How could it be when it was responsible for your constant limping.
Your body had been through a lot. But it had always been able to repair itself, patch itself up and regenerate every part, every cell, every bone in such an admirable way that you sometimes doubted you'd ever really been harmed.
But there was still this hip. A little wobbly, a little too rigid. And the screams. Oh, the screams, they had finally got them, and the delight on their faces left a bitter, vomit-inducing taste in your mouth.
In your fervent desire to strip the earth of its blades of grass, you had grabbed a flower stem and were working hard to remove each petal. A quick tug, a hammer blow, another quick tug, another hammer blow. Eighteen. You had counted eighteen.
The silent conversation you were having with yourself was mind-boggling to Noa. If he'd known earlier that fixing your frame was going to give him such an outpouring of expression and life from you, he'd have taken it upon himself to break it and fix it in the process much sooner.
If he had done so, maybe he'd never have had to deal with the wave… no, the tsunami of emotions he had never really been ready to receive. It was yet another piece of the puzzle he was missing. How could an Echo be both so unexpressive and yet overflowing with feelings like a river after a big storm?
Noa almost wanted to come closer, still crouching down, wanting to force you to answer his question as if he could pull the wool over your eyes with his mere proximity. "Tell me I'm right." That was what he wanted most when he hadn't even shared his train of thought with you. Because if he was right, your behavior would have found a logic.
The despair of seeing your world crumble helplessly.
The guilt of not having been able to protect.
The shame of not having been strong enough.
Emptiness, faced with the inert body of a loved one.
This would make sense to Noa because he himself had felt them. But his entire pyramid of thought collapsed in a single one of your sentences.
"No, before I even knew him."
If Noa could have cut into your skull to see what was going on inside, you were sure he would have. Noa squinted, trying to make sense of a story for which he had only scraps of words.
"Where's his clan?" Noa attempted another question and to his surprise, your answer was quick to ring in his ears. "I don't know, I left."
Oh.
It would have taken a trained eye to notice, but Noa puffed out his chest slightly, proud to have asked the right question. You'd had a life before living with his clan for a while, at least, long enough to have such feelings when your Caesar died.
And then, his line of thought came to an abrupt end.
OH.
You. An Echo. Living with a clan of apes.
An Echo and apes, sharing the same living space.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Watching you go back and forth between the arms of the conscious and unconscious was quite enthralling for Koba.
Even though he could feel the bile rising in his throat, he had to admit that you had put up a good fight. Your human vanity had been far too great to succumb so quickly to your abusers. If the men in white had come to a tragic end under Koba's murderous fists and fangs, he hadn't been shy about admiring for a while the sadistic game those men had started with you.
There was nothing more delectable than watching a human suffer, and Koba was quite in awe of humans' boundless creativity when it came to torture.
He could just as easily kill you. It would have been easy in such a vulnerable state, but where would the fun be if you didn't see him do it?
The terror he'd been able to read in the eyes of these men dressed in white had only been an appetizer, like the hazelnut that crunches under the tooth to whet the appetite.
The screams. It was a feast he'd relished in. Koba took care of it. He'd wanted to hear them scream like he'd heard you rip your lungs out in pain.
Koba squinted at the thought. No, it had nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with seeing your hands and feet bound and pinned to a table the way he had been. It had nothing to do with the fact that the current state of your pelvis looked like a Picasso painting and that the scars, if and only if, he let you survive, would match those scattered across his body.
No.
He'd wanted to hear them scream because they were men wearing white. Humans who had mutilated him. Because they were human.
A whine.
Koba turned his gaze to your face. And what a satisfying sight it was. He could read on your every feature the pain that had circulated through all your cells, a pain he imagined to be so deep that it had left its marks on the skin of your contorted face. Even in the unconscious, he could see the repetitive twitching of your body trying to digest the hammer blows it had repeatedly received.
To him, it was a painting, a work of art, and he might have wished he'd inflicted it on you himself, but not to observe other human beings, your bloodthirsty species, inflicting such suffering on one of their own would have been a real waste.
How ironic. As human as you were, it didn't stop them. No better than a laboratory rat… No better than the ape he was in the eyes of those men wearing white.
How ironic to let you live only to see you realize how insignificant you are to your own species. To the species that claimed to be superior. The idea of you, a human, realizing that even this had been taken away from you by these other humans, no matter who you were, what you had or hadn't done, was so pleasing to Koba's vengeance that he yanked each of the straps that held you to the table.
And Caesar? Oh Caesar will see. He'll understand Koba.
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"Raka… told me a story."
The hesitation in Noa's voice caught your attention and you slowly began to forget to peck at the blades of grass at your feet. What story? Your gaze, lost in your memories, landed on Noa, curious to hear what he had to tell you.
Noa found himself fascinated by the stubbornness of your irises to continue the story you were telling yourself, while at the same time showing your sudden interest in his words. He felt as if he were observing the depths of a river, its swirls warping the flora and fauna moving beneath the surface, with only the desire to plunge his face underwater and let him see clearly the life that lay there, without filters, without waves, without murky waters.
"Apes and… Echoes" he pointed to you with a wave of his hand. "A very long time ago… would have been like… you and your Caesar."
Noa watched your facial features pull back into a confused scowl. You said nothing. He wondered if you were inviting him to go on with his explanation or if you were silently passing incredulous judgment on a potential distant truth that he himself had felt, when Raka had told him stories of a past older than the elders of his village. After all, even if a clan of apes had shared a part of your life, it was very far from being standard practice in this world, and quite the contrary, you may have been the only Echo in the present world to have lived in such a way. It would come as no surprise to be suspicious of this potential truth, but Noa was sure that you were living proof that Raka might have been right about that distant past.
But to you, something was wrong. And you felt your neurons searching for connections that didn't yet exist, because it was more than obvious from your own experience that apes and humans had lived side by side. It wasn't an unknown story, or even a harebrained one, it was your story.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Perched on the edge of a boulder, your legs dangling in the air above the rest of the colony, you were quietly watching the apes go about their daily lives.
A month had passed.
A month, but it had really only been a week since you'd ventured outside the hut you'd been brought to to help your body heal.
Something was lurking in the pit of your stomach, a feeling you could hardly identify because it was so unstable. It grew inside of you and spread like water from a dam that had just burst, although you didn't know if you should really welcome it and let it settle in your veins so that it could nourish each and every one of your cells. And whatever that feeling was, whether positive, negative or a bit of both, it kept growing and trying to find its true nature.
This feeling had begun to feed on what it saw around you in the three weeks since you had regained awareness of your surroundings.
Distrust, in the green and golden eyes of some of the apes who passed by your hut.
Benevolence, in the leathery hands that took care to check on the progress of your healing.
Curiosity, in the gruff words that asked you questions to which you didn't have all the answers.
Hatred, in the growls that hissed through the sharp teeth shown to you when you dared a glance outside your hut.
And, above all, empathy, in the gentle, patient gestures made to ensure that no more pain would be caused to you as your body worked crudely to create bones and flesh previously ripped to shreds.
Three weeks. That's how long it had taken for you to be able to put one foot on the ground again and for your hip to weld to your pelvis. Your body had done what it could with what it had left. You knew you'd never walk the way you used to. You didn't need an X-ray or a CAT scan to feel the bone plate that had fastened the bone in your pelvis to the bone at the top of your femur.
You wondered what the scientists would call this new bone, their future pride and joy. Maybe Weston would take all the credit, after all, even if he wasn't the designer, he was the head of the program.
And this feeling, which continued its perpetual development, suddenly twisted your stomach. They couldn't give it a name if you didn't come back.
You snapped out of your thoughts when a low, guttural grunt drew your gaze to an ape crouching beside you.
Caesar. That was how he had introduced himself when you had regained consciousness.
You smiled at him before focusing your admiring gaze once again on the goings-on below.
"It's… amazing what you've done."
A low vibration emerged from his chest in a dull chuckle, and you didn't need to see it to know he was proud of the work he'd done.
"Not I, all of us."
You nodded keenly, but couldn't help feeling that he was being too modest, for if it hadn't been for him, all those apes would never have had the life they'd got here.
This plunged you into a form of nostalgia for a time that had not yet arrived, but which was taking shape a little more day by day. A time when humans would die out and the apes would continue to thrive, and you couldn't yet imagine to what extent.
"The world is going to change so much…" Your voice seemed lost in a distant future when the realization hit you. You turned sharply towards him, your right hip screaming insults through your nerve endings, "No, what I mean is…" you rushed to reply while massaging the painful part of your pelvis in a silent apology, "it's really fantastic what's happening to you all and it's a great thing but…" You paused in your clumsy explanation before resuming, your eyes busy looking at your fidgeting hands, resigned, "Sorry, that was stupid."
You suddenly looked up as Caesar took hold of your wrist. Cautiously, he stretched your arm slightly towards him, placing the palm of your open hand skywards. His grip wasn't meant to be aggressive; in fact, he was silently and gently showing you the best way to ask for forgiveness. You felt his leathery fingers glide confidently over your palm and you were so taken aback that Caesar, after accepting your apology, had to gently push your hand towards you to indicate that the exchange was over.
"The world… has already… changed." His baritone voice resonated right into your ribcage, and you observed him place beside you a wristband adorned with what looked like polished white stone. "But you can… learn."
The more you looked at the wristband, the stranger those little white stones seemed to you. You hardly dared to touch it, and you cast a questioning glance at Caesar, who was cautiously observing your reaction.
"Wha… what's this?" "Bones." He replied simply, pointing to your pelvis.
The bones from your pelvis. It took you a minute to digest the information, but that was all it took to understand.
The small pieces of bone had been carefully cleaned and gloriously adorned around this wristband woven from a bamboo stalk. Your bones, which had been bruised and abused in human hands, had been reassembled and treated with respect in the hands of an ape. A form of silent agreement that said: if humans have torn a part of you away, apes, if you were willing, could have it back to you.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Unconsciously, your hand had slipped around your wrist where the bracelet had rested there for years before being lost. Your fingertips remembered the asymmetrical outlines of the polished bones and the way the woven bamboo rods rolled across your skin, and it was hard to forget them after so many years of playing with them between your fingers.
It had been a long time since you'd thought about it, and if it had still been there, maybe you could have shown it to Noa and confessed that Raka was right, that it wasn't "would have been" but simply "was".
The issue wasn't to relate, but…
And you tilted your head to one side. Your eyes crinkled into a thousand questions that you couldn't formulate yourself and that remained on the tip of your tongue as if no words in any language could really translate them into something audible.
"H-How…?" You couldn't finish your question. "That's what Raka said… when I told him about the masks."
Noa was not sure whether he should tell you about the masks, or even why he had brought himself to your doorstep. And you'd never gotten him used to that intense stare of yours in four days. Now it was your turn to want to open his skull like you would open a Tupperware to see what was hidden inside.
You stared at him intently and caught his gaze turning to Raka, who was nearby looking after his horse.
Noa was looking for some form of escape, or even comfort, from Raka, who he felt was best placed to explain these things to you. But Raka wasn't looking at him. He couldn't help him out of the mess Noa had gotten himself into.
Noa stumbled over his words, not knowing where to start, but he sensed that you wouldn't help him collect his thoughts and translate them into words. But if you didn't want to help him make them audible, yourself far too confused and bewildered, he could always sign them to you.
"Long before, another Caesar… A different one from yours, too far away to be yours" And you straightened up, suddenly wanting to get closer to Noa, silently taken aback by his movements that you were slowly deciphering. "Raka said, the masks, they took his name." Noa went on signing, amplifying his gestures to make sure you understood. "To twist his words."
And the signs that followed left you speechless.
"Ape do not kill ape." Noa began, before going on with gestures seeming like an echo from the valleys of a mountain range overshadowing bygone days.
And as you stared at Noa, your irises detailing his every move in their sockets, you finally noticed.
How had you not noticed before? Surely too busy looking away, too busy drowning in lists, sinking into activities that had kept you bodily functional, too busy wanting them both to go away.
The scar on his right pectoral. Your vision blurred a little more at the signs you knew by heart, the signs Caesar had told you over and over again until they became second nature. All you could see were his hands, close to his chest, his scar in the background, and for a fraction of a second you could see him, Caesar.
Caesar signed to you the words he was so proud of, puffing out his chest like an insolent child after getting the top mark in an exam, so proud of the words he'd invented that he let out a confident growl, straight from his ribcage.
"Apes, together, strong." You whispered Caesar's words in the rhythm he was so accustomed to signing them.
And a tear beaded down your cheek as you looked up into Caesar's face, realizing at first glance that it was really only Noa.
Noa observed your cheeks gradually covering with tears, not really understanding what had just gone through your head, but he too was speechless. How did you know his words? And before he could ponder the question any further, your barely audible voice forced him to focus on what you were about to reveal, his first name rolling off your lips.
"Noa… There is no other Caesar."
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
Tags list:
@callsignwidow
@youdontknowe
@katzykat
@koshi-sama
@violet-19999
@queen-luna-007
@sciencewithottsnpotts
@sparks0918
@moonlightnyx
@analuw
#planet of the apes#kingdom of the planet of the apes#noa x human reader#noa x reader#koba#noa#caesar#planet of the apes x reader#the memory keeper
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✦ PAC : HER AURA WAS A WARM CHAOS
your fs's first impression about you
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8b7a36fc5d560f9fda6ec6ec72fb83c6/856a79ec0605e4b9-4c/s540x810/fe5b322b2bc383631cd3c39e8d514dc84f5ca432.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ed75cafe07a2dd8750e23e5fd3247d48/856a79ec0605e4b9-b8/s500x750/88b92e9fe067c9a5284fdab2a9a54891cc058660.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a811d8349cd924418515955d132771ef/856a79ec0605e4b9-f7/s400x600/92c19f8d67208388718e17078fc00ca1403260df.jpg)
like & rb if resonates
i'm a beginner in tarot so please take everything with a grain of salt.
it is a general reading so only take what resonates
🍃| pile one!
it seems that you would be in a difficult situation when you'll meet your fs for the first time. you'll be going through a massive change, like letting go of a person or a betrayal. and it looks like it would be evident for your fs.
they can see this gloomy, intimidating energy around you and they'll find it hard to approach you. they might want to share their burden, willing to take care of you and wanting to be there for you. they know that you can be so much better when you're at your best and hence why they might wanna help you.
overall, they think that you are very strong to be going through such a difficult phase of life and yet here you are in front of them and they really respect you for that. they also believe you are really brave and headstrong which is really admirable.
🍃| pile two!
your fs's first impression would be you acting like you have no care in the world, quite literally. you would seem to go with the flow in life and particularly have no plans in life. you also seem to be taken advantage of and naive, which your fs would be very concerned about.
they also seem to realize that you are pretty bubbly and positive, which they definitely appreciate and would want to protect you. i see them wanting to help you find your path, wherever you might wanna take you next step into.
overall, it seems like you'll be transitioning from this stage, where you finally decide to be headstrong and they'll be there to back you. they would be able to see your conflict between letting go of your previous carefree life and taking a step for next big change. nonetheless, they find you adorable so they'd wanna keep you in their pocket.
🍃| pile three!
i pulled a suit of pentacles when channeling messages for you, pile 3 and it seems like you're all "go big or go home" energy and your fs LOVES it. you seem very powerful and don't back down easily which is really admirable. you seem to be in a quite powerful position or just very intimidating in general and your fs sees you more of a challenge lol. i'm loving the energy here, they truly admire you.
it also seems that they think you keep up this front in order to not let people hurt you and to hide any hardship you're facing through. they believe this front has lead you to push people and you're lonely deep down, but even then you never let yourself falter which is truly amazing.
overall, you seem very grounded and stable with proper goals in mind and they like how you don't let anyone stop you from reaching that goal.
p.s : this might be an office romance ;)
#divider by kimjiho1#parkjayssi's world#fs pac#pac#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a photo#pick a card#intuitive#intuitive readings#tarotblr#tarot#tarot reading#spirituality#channeled reading#channeled message#channeling#witchblr#divination
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Lost (12) - You had me from hello
Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 4k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-If I never told you I just want you to know you had me from hello-
Proving that yesterday was a fluke, Tara woke up to the sight of you already up and rolling the dough, which, knowing you, probably meant you were making crescent rolls. Tara stretched a bit, grabbed your pillow and got comfortable. She smiled and just watched you work for a couple of minutes. The years working as a cook really paid off, as you moved in the kitchen with practiced ease and Tara found herself swooning at the thoughts of eating your cooking for the rest of her life. She didn’t even feel like she was rushing with that thought. The two of you went through enough to know for sure that nothing, absolutely nothing, could separate you. And that thought made her smile. She let out a content sigh, humming as she got up and approached you. She hugged you from behind, the same way she did yesterday, only without putting her arms underneath your shirt this time.
"Good morning, Y/N," she said a bit sleepily, she lazily leaned down a bit and kissed you just beneath your shoulder blade, loving the way you went still just for a moment. You heard her even when she stretched, it was the kiss that made you stop for a moment.
"Good morning, birthday girl," she didn't even need to look at you to know there was a grin on your face. She heard you moving a bit, and wiping something before she felt your hands on top of hers. "Great timing actually. What filling would you like?"
Tara hummed at that, it was tempting to go for something sweet, but she'd have her cake later. "How about pizza?" just some tomato sauce, cheese, and ham would be perfect.
You nodded, fake coughing and tapping her hand lightly. Right, she'd need to let you go. "Thank you," you teased, turning around to kiss her cheek before heading to the fridge.
Tara leaned against the counter, careful to avoid dough and flour. "You're making a lot. Are Sam, Chad and Mindy coming?"
"Yeah, apparently we owe them for leaving us alone yesterday. Although, should the three of you be this relaxed about school?" you asked while looking inside the fridge, causing Tara to freeze for a moment and look away. You got everything you needed and came back, a bowl, ham, cheese and a bottle of tomato sauce in your hands, and you were carefully observing her. When you stood in front of Tara you set aside the bowl and ingredients down, took your apron off, and then tucked a few strands of hair behind Tara's ear. "What's wrong?"
You noticed. Not that she was surprised about that. No one knew her as well as you did. "It's been difficult lately," Tara sighed, if she wanted you to always be open with her, she'd have to be the same way with you.
You frowned and she swore she could see gears turning in your head. "Because of what happened?" you figured it out quickly, though it wasn’t that difficult to figure it out.
"Yeah," she leaned into you, seeking the comfort of having your arms around her gave her. And you gave her just that, pulling her in. She rested her head against your chest, listening to the sound of your heart beating. "Promise me you won't go crazy when I tell you," if anyone knew you, she knew you. Even if she failed to recognize you weren't fine for years. She knew how you were when it came to her. She knew you'd get pissed off the moment you heard how things were at school.
Tara heard a reluctant sigh and smiled when she felt you picking her up and taking her to the sofa. You sat down, with her safely sitting on your lap. "I don't like it, but I promise."
"It's either pity or blame. You know, some say they are sorry for me because of what Amber did to me, some say I should have noticed Amber was... the way she was," some went on to say Tara wasn't any different, that she killed Amber, so she was just as dangerous and sick in the head as her now deceased ex. She couldn't tell you that. You'd want the names of those people regardless of what you promised.
She felt you clenching your fists, she felt the tension in your muscles as you held her, she heard the deep breaths you took.
"Y/N," she nuzzled into your neck, hoping she could calm you down with touch, with assurance that she was right there and fine, and that you didn’t need to get into trouble over this. And you would get into trouble if you got involved with this.
"I know, I know. I trust you to tell me if you need me to do anything," that was what she wanted to hear as she caressed your cheek, slowly kissing from your neck all the way to your lips. It was a soft, brief kiss, but it was enough to calm your down.
Tara pulled back first, smiling. "I love how protective you are. I love knowing you are always there when I need you. I still need to handle things myself, you know? I need you to get back to the way you were before I was attacked," back then you were protective, but not to the point of handling any problem she had yourself. You didn't get to that point now, either, but Tara worried you might if she didn't point it out to you right away.
Before you left two months ago Tara absolutely needed you. She needed help moving, she couldn't take care of herself properly and at first needed help with even some of the more basic tasks. That was embarrassing, but you were patient and made sure she never felt like she was an inconvenience. She couldn't do anything too difficult and with the damage to her hand, she'd still need help with certain tasks in the future. That was the physical side of things. Carrying her, carrying things she couldn't, all the things like that, all of that was fine. She knew her limits and she was fine with your help with what she couldn't do. That's how things were before she got attacked as well, only back then they were less intimate.
As for handling issues like the one she currently had at school, well, that was where she drew the line. She couldn't have you solving everything, or getting involved with everything. She needed you to go back to the way you were before. Where you'd only get involved if she asked you to and would otherwise just offer her the support.
"I can still get angry, right?" you asked, relaxing a bit at her words.
"There's not much I can do about that," Tara laughed and leaned down once again to kiss your cheek. “Other than kiss you and hope that’ll calm you down,” she joked kissing the corner of your lips as you smiled. "I have you," she kissed your cheek again. "And Sam, and Mindy, and Chad," with every name she kissed another part of your face, your other cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose, purposefully avoiding your lips. "I can handle anything this stupid town throws at me."
How she wished she could erase what happened, go to a place where no one knew who she was and what she went through so that she could live a normal life. Hopefully, she could do exactly that once she leaves Woodsboro with you, Chad, and Mindy, and, she hoped, Sam as well.
You got tired of her insistent avoidance of your lips and gently cupped her cheek to properly kiss her. "I know you can. You will. And then we'll leave this damn place and never come back," Tara liked that idea. She liked the slow and gentle way you were kissing even more, the soft caress of your thumb across the side of her face. You separated too quickly for her liking. "Breakfast, Tara" you reminded her.
"Breakfast, Tara" she repeated, dejectedly getting off your lap and sitting next to you with folded arms, and you just laughed. "What?" she asked, surprised by your reaction.
"Pancakes, Y/N," you reminded her, and Tara blinked a few times, realizing she did exactly what you did yesterday.
And so, she laughed as well, jokingly pushing you to get up quicker. You got together yesterday, no one could blame her for being a bit more eager for everything than it was necessary. Besides, you weren't any different. Give it a bit of time and you'll both get used to the relationship, which should, in turn, make you a bit less excited about being in a relationship than you currently were. Twice a day was definitely not a pace either of you needed or could keep up with.
You didn't head right back to the dough, instead, you dug for something in your bag and walked back to her with a small bag. "I saw them and figured your hand might be sensitive to cold," you handed her the package. "Happy birthday, Love," you said, quickly bending down to peck her lips one more time.
Tara, pulled you into a hug, the package still in her hand. "Thank you," she whispered in your ear. The gift turned out to be a pair of rechargeable hand warmers. "I love it," could she tell you? Was it too early? She kinda figured you weren't the most usual couple, between near-death experience and being in love for years. Still shouldn't there be more build-up to those words? A relationship that was longer than thirty hours? "Y/N."
"Yeah?" you looked taken aback when you looked her in the eyes.
"It's just, I-" she was sure of what she felt, she just feared you might think it was too soon.
You smiled. "I love you too, Tara," her jaw dropped.
"Wha- How?" she jumped to her feet as you laughed and went back to making crescent rolls. "Y/N!" she scolded you with a pout on her face.
"Eyes are the window to the soul, right? Well, no one has eyes quite as expressive as yours, Tara. Besides, we've been through so much together. Saying 'I love you' feels more like stating the obvious, rather than a huge declaration," you shrugged while you began grating the cheese
Tara wanted to be annoyed, but, frankly, she couldn't be. You just had to be right, didn’t you? Tara did have to admit most people didn’t go through what the two of you did. There certainly wasn’t a book about when to say ‘I love you’ if you and your partner survived a couple of crazy killers trying to kill you. "You're right. Let's redo it. I love you, Y/N," she said and your smile morphed into a wide grin.
"I love you too, Tara."
~X~
About an hour later Tara got a text from Sam that her, Chad, and Mindy were almost there, and just in time as you were just done setting the table. The crescent rolls smelled absolutely divine and if they weren’t fresh out of the oven Tara would have tried them already.
The two of you heard a knocking on the doors and Tara jumped to unlock them.
“Sam learnt her lesson,” you teased as Tara walked past you and she just grinned at you, blushing slightly at the reminder of what nearly happened yesterday.
The moment she opened the doors Sam burst in, hugging her tightly. “Easy Sam, I was with Y/N,” Tara laughed, hugging her sister back.
“In more ways than one,” Mindy quipped shamelessly.
“Mindy!” Chad, luckily, chastised her before Tara could.
But Mindy just smirked, patting Tara on the back. “Early birthday present? Seeing stars without getting punched?”
Tara knew her face was as red as a tomato, she felt the heat in her cheeks as she looked away, of course Mindy would keep teasing her even now that she got together with you. “That’s… It’s not,” damn it, why was she so embarrassed? The two of you were in a relationship, of course you would…
“Damn it, Mindy, we’re supposed to have breakfast,” Sam complained as she let go of Tara.
“Exactly, and leave Tara be,” Chad jumped in to defend her as well.
Mindy just smirked, and while she stopped talking she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively causing Tara to groan. “Well, I had my fun, happy birthday, T,” Mindy finally went and hugged her. “Also, seriously, about time you two!” she exclaimed loud enough for you to hear her as well, but considering the way you were looking at them, with your jaw dropped, you definitely heard everything that came before as well.
“What the dingus said, I mean the about time thing,” Chad grinned and pulled Tara in for a hug. “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks, all of you,” Tara smiled, and just for a moment, for a fleeting second, she expected to see three more faces there. As if what happened was a horrible nightmare, as if Wes and Liv were still alive and Amber was alive and not a crazy murderer. But they weren’t there, they were all dead.
She tried to keep the smile on her face as she the three of them inside. All five of you sat down and Tara snuggled as close to you as she could, seeking your warmth and trying to push those thoughts away.
You always had a sixth sense for her distress, and you wrapped your arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
“So, world champion?” Chad awkwardly patted you on the shoulder.
Ever since Tara told the three of them of your retirement, they weren’t sure how to approach the subject, and that was with Tara. Now you were right there, and that awkwardness came back like a boomerang, and it was only slightly eased by the fact that you won. Well, depending on how you looked at it. Chad, personally, thought that you winning made it even worse, since you wouldn’t get the chance to defend your title and dominate the women MMA. He looked it up, you were the youngest women’s MMA world champion in history, and by a lot, especially in your category.
“Until the next title match, yeah. Anya will probably take it right back by beating up whoever her unlucky opponent ends up being,” you weren’t bothered though, not even a bit and Tara trusted you were honest.
“I bet, that woman hits hard,” Sam agreed, wincing slightly when she remembered how much Tara was panicking while they were all watching your fight.
You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” and just like that the tension was gone. Tara eased her worried mind by leaning into your touch, and you eased the worries of all your friends by being fairly chill about the retirement. For a brief moment Tara even chastised herself for ever doubting you in the first place.
~X~
Later that day you were washing the dishes while Tara and the twins choose how to pass the time. That was when Sam approached you.
She leaned back against the fridge, not quite looking at you, instead she crossed her arms and looked at Tara. "So, you and Tara," Sam began a bit awkwardly.
"Yes?" you couldn't help bit smirk a bit, but when you noticed Sam’s nervousness and the fact that she chose to keep her tone low, your smirk dropped, and you dried your hands. You were done anyway.
"You're official?" there was the question, honestly, you expected it a bit sooner, but you guessed there just wasn’t a chance for Sam to ask. And you guessed she was a bit conflicted.
You should have been annoyed by her demeanor. And maybe you were a bit annoyed. She was gone for five years, came back only when she had to, and while you were thankful she came back, you didn’t exactly appreciate the fact that she was tethering on the edge of protecting Tara from you of all people. But you did understand. Tara went through a traumatic experience, and she jumped into a relationship with you the moment you came back. Not to mention the circumstances surrounding you leaving weren’t the best either. Sam couldn’t know that you and Tara completely talked it out, before you got together, and then during the rest of the day, you just talked it all over. Or at least the most important topics.
So, between understanding where Sam was coming from and the excitement you felt over being with Tara you couldn't wipe that stupid grin off your face as you glanced at Tara debating with Mindy on which movie to watch was enough of an answer on its own. "Yeah, it kinda just happened," you then quickly raised your hand. "Before you give me protective older sister speech, I know. I get it. If I ever hurt her, you're free to do whatever you want," of course, after you chose your own fitting punishment.
Sam nodded, smiling at your reassurance. "Honestly, if it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's you," she looked at Tara, at the grin on her face that mirrored your own when she glanced toward you. "She's happy with you."
You smiled, that was all you wanted. To make Tara happy and be happy with her.
"Sam, Y/N, come on!" Tara said, interrupting the conversation you had with Sam, still, you doubted there was anything else left to say. Sam approved, even if she was justifiably concerned for her sister.
~X~
As the celebration began coming to a close the five of you were left sitting, just chilling in your and Tara’s apartment. Mindy and Chad were on the couch and Chad was eating his second slice of cake. Sam and Mindy refused the seconds, but you and Tara were sharing a piece, since Tara was already full, but craved something sweet and you weren't about to turn down extra cake. Sam was sitting at the bottom of your and Tara’s bed, while you sat cross-legged on your bed with Tara sitting on your lap. You had one arm around her waist while holding the plate in the other. Tara was the one with the duty to feed either of you.
"Hey, what should we do when we leave Woodsboro?" Chad suddenly asked as he took another bite of his cake.
"Go to university, get our degrees, you know how it goes," Mindy didn't seem too interested in the topic. She never was the one to complicate things, she knew what she wanted to do, and she would do it, thus talking about it in detail felt unnecessary to Mindy.
"Well yeah, but I'd like us to stick together. You know, after what we went through," he said and you couldn't help but feel relief at his words.
You glanced at Tara, seeing the hopeful look in her eyes. This clearly wasn't something they talked about before.
"I don't think I can trust other people easily, after what Amber did," Mindy admitted. "And I really care about you two," she said to Chad and Tara. "No offense, Y/N, Sam."
"None taken, I get it," Sam immediately assured her and you just grinned.
You and Mindy were friends, you were on good terms, you could see she was happy for you and Tara. You also fully understood it was a friendship that relied on your mutual connection to Tara.
"Well, I care about all of you," Chad was, for the lack of a better description, much more open to caring about people than Mindy. Granted, you had more in common with Chad than Mindy, so that may have had something to do with the closer friendship the two of you had.
"How about we pick the same university and rent an apartment together?" Tara went for the best-case scenario in her head.
Mindy immediately crossed her arms in an X shape. "No way, university yes, but living with you two? No, I can't handle how stuck together you two are," she immediately shut it down.
Tara laughed, jokingly smacking her shoulder. "We're not that bad!"
Mindy just looked at Tara blankly and shook her head. "T. We know what you did yesterday, a day, actually scratch that, hours into your relationship, by the way," Tara and you got embarrassed at that. It wasn’t even hours, it was more like minutes. "Also, kind of hard to believe you when you haven't left Y/N's lap for longer than a minute the whole night."
"She got you there Snuggle Bear," you snickered, pulling the embarrassed girl closer to you, despite not doing much better than her.
Tara pouted and untangled herself from you, so she could go to Sam who happily accepted the role of hugging her sister.
"There, there, don't worry about it," Sam smoothed Tara's hair and pulled Tara to her right side. Tara eagerly leaned into Sam's embrace.
"See! This is what I'm talking about! As if being sweet with Y/N wasn't enough, there's Sam as well!" Mindy laughed and honestly, given the situation, you and Chad couldn't help but join in. "It never ends, and I worry it might be contagious."
Tara just turned around and stuck her tongue out.
'We're all just touch-starved, aren't we?' you couldn't help but think as you shook your head slightly.
"No, look at it from the brighter side, at least she's going from one to the other," and Chad had to say it.
Tara immediately perked up and looked at you. "Y/N," she said sweetly and made a 'come here' motion with her hand.
"No!" Mindy and Chad jumped to grabbed onto you.
"Duty calls," you smirked, getting up to shake the two off and get closer to Tara and Sam despite the two trying to pull you back.
"Stay with us Y/N! She has you wrapped around her little finger!" Mindy laughed.
"How does Tara hold you back and pull you around all the time?" Chad complained as he relented and gave up on trying to hold you back.
Looking over your shoulder you saw Mindy looking at Chad with an 'Are-you-serious' look on her face.
"I let her," you shrugged and dropped down next to Tara. "Yes, Tara?"
Tara glanced down at her left hand, resting on her thigh. Then she glanced at your own hand. Okay, you could figure that one out. You leaned back and slid your arm around Tara's lower back so you could reach her left hand from behind. "Like this?"
"Just like that," going by the smile on Tara's face she really enjoyed the moment. Sam having her arm around Tara's shoulders and you hugging her at the same time.
"See, it's like she has two guard dogs now," Mindy's laughter suddenly stopped. The reminder of Amber's nickname for you hanging in the air like an uncomfortable weight on everyone's shoulders. "Shit, sorry, Tara," she apologized.
"No, don't worry about it," Tara got up, but before you or Sam could go after her Mindy got up and pulled her into a hug.
"I'm really sorry. For teasing as well, hug them all you want," Mindy dropped the tough act just for a few moments.
Tara returned the hug and you saw her shoulders relaxing before the two girls separated.
"Uh, I'd like a hug too," Chad grinned sheepishly, prompting Tara to hug him as well.
If there really was a group of life-long friends forming between the five of you there was no doubt in your mind the heart and soul of that group was Tara.
A/N: The gift is an idea from Anon's headcanon, I didn't even know those were a thing until Anon mentioned them. Thank you, Anon!
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#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x female reader#scream#jenna ortega x reader#x reader#x female reader
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