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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year ago

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When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 4: These Words Are All I Have So I'll Write Them]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, violence, serious injury, alcoholism/addiction, prostitution, references to sexual content including noncon (18+), pregnancy, methods of ending pregnancy, speaking High Valyrian at a third-grade level, no Larys Strong this time yay!!!

Series title is a lyric from: “7 Minutes in Heaven” by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 6.7k.

Link to chapter list: HERE.

Taglist (more in comments): @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauraneedstochill @not-a-glad-gladiator @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @at-a-rax-ia @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @echos-muses @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @lm-txles @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @storiumemporium @insabecs @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @yawneneytiri @marbles-posts @imsolence @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @nimaharchive @anxiousdaemon @under-the-aspen-tree @amiraisgoingthruit @dd122004dd @randomdragonfires @jetblack4real @joliettes

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She gives you a new dress to replace the one that is sopping wet and algae-stained from your tumble into the fishpond: a deep gory maroon, low-cut across the chest, a slit up to your thigh. It is the most revealing thing you have ever worn. You keep crossing your arms and tugging at the fabric, trying to make it cover more of you, incurably out-of-place in this room, this world. The madam is seated at her desk and jotting down notes in a thick, ancient book. When you steal glimpses of her words, they are messy and often misspelled, the script of a child. If you had parchment, you could write a letter. Your hands itch for it; your fingers flex to grasp nothing.

A woman glides into the madam’s bedroom—a tiny kingdom where no men exist—and hands you a cup of tea. She appraises you with a swift, intrigued glance; her hair is long and coppery red, her belly rounded out. She is perhaps five months pregnant. The madam casts her a stern look and the woman dutifully vanishes. “What is this?” you ask as you take a sip. It’s hot, lemony, bitter. “Moon tea?”

The madame chuckles. “No. We have moon tea for if that doesn’t work.”

Because I’m going to be doing things that could result in a child. Because I’m going to be violated here, again and again, I who was so terrified of being possessed by even one man.

The madam says: “Can you play any instruments?”

“No.” You draw into yourself—eyes and ears and the pores of your skin—every detail, every tapestry on the walls and creaky board of the floor and shift in tones of voice, anything that could help you escape. You are a traveler in a strange land. You have no map, no compass. You can bandage burns and set bones, but you know nothing about brothels in the suffocating, squalid entrails of a city.

“Sing or dance?”

“Not well at all.”

A furrowed brow. “Can you sew?”

“Barely.”

“Cook?”

“No.”

Disappointment, palpable and shaming. “Can you read or write?” the madam asks, scratching disorderly lines of black ink into her book.

“Both.”

Now she has perked up a bit. “How well?”

“Fluently.”

A raised eyebrow. This is unusual. “Any other languages besides the Common Tongue?”

“No.” Then you add desperately: “But I know about medicine! I’ve studied herbology and wound tending, and I can act as a healer for the women here, I can—”

“You could, perhaps,” the madam says, smiling with sad, aged patience. “But that is not what the prince regent intended.”

You stare at her, aghast, petrified. There is no swaying her. You consider revealing yourself and attempting to bribe her with the renowned Celtigar fortune, but this is inadvisable. It is one thing to be raped; it is another to be raped and then murdered and then probably raped again. The Greens are the true heirs of the throne in this establishment, which means Rhaenyra and all those who aid her are traitors. Already you have overheard the women gossiping about King Aegon. They do not appear to fear or dislike him; on the contrary, they fret over him like anxious mothers or wives. They hope his recovery is quick. They are grateful he survived. They wonder if he will return to visit them again soon. They do not seem to be under the impression that he is vile, amoral, cruel, a threat, a curse. When they look at him, white hair and ocean-deep eyes, they do not see a monster.

“You aren’t bleeding currently,” the madam continues.

“How do you know that?”

“You didn’t ask for a rag when I gave you that dress.” New words springing to life on those yellowed pages, pricelessly valuable and yet forbidden to you. “Ever borne children?”

“No.”

“Are you a maiden?”

You can’t decide how to answer; you aren’t sure if either reply will help you. You settle on the truth. “Yes,” you admit tentatively.

“Good. We can charge more for you.”

“Wait, no, I’m not. I’ve been with lots of men.”

The madam laughs, shaking her head as she makes her notes. Her necklace and earrings jangle merrily, too large, glinting and gaudy. “Have no fear. I will make it easier for you. I will find a slight, young lad to be your first. He won’t be too big, he won’t last too long. And if you’re fortunate, he’ll even be handsome!” Her prominent, pale eyes go distant; she is orchestrating myths, the trade she deals in like some women sell silk or wool. “A soldier home on leave, perhaps. Looking for a taste of dwindling innocence before he marches off again to be butchered by a Costayne or a Darklyn.” She snaps back into the room. “It will be over before you know it. You’ll be more underwhelmed than anything else, trust me.”

You picture it, red, rust, rage, resignation: the impossibly large stain of blood on your cousin Theodora’s bedsheets. “What if I’m frightened? What if I cry?”

The madam shrugs. “Some men like that. It will convince them of your inexperience.”

You gape at her. “That’s appalling.”

“That’s the world we live in.” She sets down her quill, closes the book, and stretches out her back as she stands. “Follow me. I’ll show you around.”

There are rooms where the women sleep, rooms where they get ready, servants to arrange their hair and moonlight-silver mirrors and a cluttered array of cosmetics and closets bursting with sheer, sensuous gowns. As the madam momentarily diverts her attention from you to scold a servant for knocking over a tin of rouge made from ground cinnabar, you swipe a small stick of kohl eyeliner off a table and tuck it into the pocket of your dress. You might be able to write with it.

What is that pocket supposed to be for? A vial of perfume to mask the sweat of men, mint leaves to clear away their taste? A cloth to mop their mess off your thighs? You shudder, then trail after the madam as she floats out into the hallway.

There are bedchambers, six or seven of them, but the doors are shut. You can smell incense burning; you can hear moans and wet slaps of flesh beneath plucks of harps played by servants. Outside there is a courtyard where women sit on the stone rims of fountains simpering and stroking men’s beards, necks, chests, thighs. It is surrounded by a wall nine feet high. Armed guards pace through the maze of rose bushes and elm trees and proliferate quilts of ivy, keeping uninvited men out, keeping women in. They are protected from their own ambitions of some other kind of life. They are prisoners. The sky above them is a mosaic of spilled wine and gold; the sun is setting.

Downstairs in the kitchen, the madam leaves you in the care of the same woman you saw earlier, long coppery ringlets and a bastard in her belly. The dress she wears is a cleaner red than yours, not blood that has dried and flaked but a heart that’s still beating. She is chopping vegetables and tossing them into a pot boiling over the fire. The long wooden table is strewn with carrots, onions, potatoes, leeks, mushrooms, fresh dark green herbs.

She flashes you a wily smile. “Our cook dropped dead last week. We’ve yet to procure a new one, so I’m making myself useful. All the house laments.”

You laugh and join her, though you don’t know the first thing about working in a kitchen; you pick up a knife and begin slicing through a carrot. It takes more muscle than you anticipated.

“On a cutting board, you idiot,” the woman says kindly, passing you one.

“Sorry. I’ve never cooked before.”

“What? Never?” Her auburn eyebrows spring up. “Where did you come from?”

The cliffs, the sea, salt and waves and mist. “The Crownlands.”

She is studying you with interest as her blade hovers over a half-chopped leek. “Were you a handmaiden to a lady there, or…?”

“It doesn’t matter. Whoever I was, I’m not the same person anymore.”

“No,” the woman agrees softly. “None of us are, I suppose.”

You glance down to her belly. You don’t wish to offend her, but you are curious.

“Go on,” she prompts. “You may inquire. I am well aware of my predicament whether you speak of it aloud or not, I assure you.”

“Did the moon tea not…expel the child?”

“No,” she sighs as she resumes hacking away at the leek. She speaks with vague, weary fondness. “The lemonweed tea did not prevent it, the moon tea did not kill it. I nearly died of fever and vomiting myself, but the child held on. It’s alive in there, I can feel it kicking sometimes. A fierce little thing.”

You nod, still gazing at her belly, undeniable evidence of the act that built it. The copper-haired woman is almost certainly younger than you, and yet she knows exactly what it means to be opened by a man, pillaged, conquered, used, left. This time tomorrow, you will know it too. “The madam let you stay?”

“Not very enthusiastically, but yes. I cook, I clean, I do the shopping in the market. She does not fear letting me venture out into the city. She knows I have nowhere else to go. I only have to entertain clients if they ask for a pregnant woman. Some men have a particular liking for that, you know.”

You did not know. “Right.”

“Besides, there might be some advantage in it for the madam,” the woman tells you. She grins. “When the child is born, there’s a chance it will have the silver hair of a Targaryen. Then the madam could approach Otto Hightower for a reward of some sort, money, protection. Royal bastards have never been more valuable. Little princes are dying left and right.”

“King Aegon’s?” you say numbly. “The child could be his?”

“Yes, obviously. Who else?”

So Aemond does not frequent this place as a customer. You wonder how he met the madam.

Aegon was here before the war began, you think, blood hot in your face, your guts twisting and nauseous. How many women know what he feels like, tastes like, sounds like when he is moaning in pleasure instead of agony?

The copper-haired woman is staring at you quizzically. You have to say something. You hear your voice like the distant cry of a crow through fog: “What was he like? The king, I mean.”

She considers this. “Drunk. Sad. But perfectly pleasant. I wouldn’t mind serving him again. He’s well thought of on the Street of Silk. I do hope he recovers. I think Rhaenyra would hang us all from a gallows. She knows Daemon has a wandering eye, and she’s not the type of wife to look the other way.”

You are trying to clear it out of your skull, like a room full of smoke: Aegon was here, Aegon was here, Aegon was here. “When you met with him, it was in this brothel?”

She hesitates. “Mostly.”

Mostly…? “Have you been inside the Red Keep?”

“Once. Ages ago. There is a network of secret passageways beneath the castle and behind the walls. The king has been known to use them for…well. You know.”

It should not hurt you. You’ve spent all your life listening to the tales of his failings. Yet it does, more than you thought was possible. You’ve never wanted a man before. But you want Aegon now. You do, you must, otherwise you wouldn’t be so pained by the thought of others touching him. You wonder if he feels the same way about you, if he ever lies awake at night with his stomach in knots over your nameless betrothed.

You try to focus on this moment, this kitchen, this copper-haired woman.You need to find a way out of here. “So the madam will decide what happens to your child once it’s born.”

“Of course,” she replies simply.

“You don’t want to keep it yourself? You are not attached to it?”

The woman is suddenly serious, quiet, melancholy. “I have no choice in the matter.”

She’s my chance. She’s my redeemer. “Can I ask your name?” you say.

“What my family named me is of no account. As you said, we’re not the same people anymore.” She smiles, warm like embers once again. “People here call me Autumn.”

“Autumn,” you echo. A woman with hair the color of crisp, dying leaves, the color of a dying world hurtling towards winter. “I think I can help you. You and your child, no matter its parentage.”

She does not want to believe you—hope is a dangerous, taunting creature, one that builds a home in your ribcage and then taps taps taps its claws along the ladder of bones—but she does. You can see it flickering in her small, upturned hazel eyes. “You…what?”

“When you go to the market, do you take a list with you? Of items that you require?”

“Yes,” Autumn replies, puzzled. “The madam always gives me one.”

“Do you have any parchment here in the kitchen?”

Autumn shakes her head. “The madam keeps it in her room. Shall I ask her—?”

“No,” you say. “Definitely don’t ask for any. Is there an old list lying around, perhaps?”

“Um, let me see…” Autumn rummages around the table; onions go rolling, leeks are flung aside. She snatches a tattered, folded sheet of parchment from under a pile of potatoes and surrenders it to you. “Here. This is the one from yesterday.”

You open it and lay it flat on the table. Sure enough, there is a list written in black ink; but not in the Common Tongue. The items are sketched. There’s a carrot with a cloudlike plume of fronds atop it, a bee (meaning honey, you imagine), a pig and a chicken, a round bottle with a heart drawn above it. Perfume? you guess. “These are pictures.”

“Well, of course. I wouldn’t be able to read it otherwise.”

You take the stick of black kohl out of your dress pocket and flip over the list. The back is blank. You write as Autumn watches, baffled, fascinated.

Your Grace, you begin, and then scratch it out. You start again.

Aegon,

Aemond has imprisoned me in a brothel. He knows the madam (middle-aged, brown hair, clever).

“What is this place called?” you ask Autumn.

“The Pink Pearl,” she says.

Autumn works here, if you recall her. She says the establishment is known as the Pink Pearl. Please send someone to rescue me at once. I am to be put to work soon, and I am afraid.

You pause. What will he have been told? What will he think of you now?

I beg your forgiveness for my deceit. I did not mislead you out of malice. I knew you needed help, and that I would not be able to provide it if my true identity was known. I have not done anything to undermine your cause. I have not written a word to my family. I assume they now believe me to be dead. I do not want this, but it is a sacrifice I have made so that I can continue to serve you.

Please help me. Please allow me to return to the Red Keep.

My name was a lie, but none of the rest was.

Angel

“You’re highborn, aren’t you?” Autumn says, hushed, awed. “You must be, to write like that.”

“Yes. And I am a friend of King Aegon. If he knows I’m here, he will pay for me.” You don’t know that for sure, but you have hope, that risky rattling beast.

“He will pay to fuck you, you mean?”

“I believe he will buy my freedom.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Then I will slit my own throat with one of these knives. “It’s better for everyone if he does.” You fold the parchment closed and then give it to Autumn. She takes it, perplexed but willing. “I cannot leave this place. But you can. I need you to get that letter to the king. You know the way to the Red Keep; you have been inside these secret passageways. Hand the letter to him directly if possible. If you are intercepted, ask to see the Dowager Queen Alicent or…” You debate this. Sir Criston is closer to Aemond than Aegon, but you believe the opposite to be true for the youngest Targaryen brother. “Or Prince Daeron. Tell them that the letter must be read by the king immediately, and by him only. If he is resting, he must be roused. If he is speaking with someone, he must be interrupted. Explain this and then leave. And do not allow the prince regent to see you.” Aemond’s words blow through you like a cold wind: If she tries to escape, kill her.

“This is a difficult task,” Autumn says uncertainly, the folded square of parchment disappearing into the bodice of her gown. “I cannot promise you anything. But I can try.”

“If I am rescued, I will see that you and your child are provided for. You will have your own home, one far, far away from here. You will never have to answer to the madam again. You will never have to lie with a man who is not of your choosing. Your life will be your own.”

She stares at you, dazed and wonderous. She cannot even fathom this, but she knows she wants it. You’ve begun to feel that way about certain things as well. When Autumn speaks, it is in little more than a whisper. “I would like that very much.”

“You will have my most fervent gratitude.”

“I will depart tonight after supper. I will tell the madam that I am craving apple cake from a street vendor.”

“Thank you, Autumn,” you say, lips trembling as they curl into a smile, tears blurry in your eyes.

She points to the stick of black kohl you’ve used as a makeshift quill, smirking. It’s still clutched in your dominant hand. “You’d better hide that before people start showing up looking for soup.”

Hours later, you are trying to fall asleep in a room you share with half a dozen other women who are not presently working, beds so close together they almost touch, soft snores, mattresses shifting when people roll over, a thin wool blanket pulled all the way up to your chin.

Aegon will read the letter. Aegon will send someone to rescue me.

In the darkness, your hands wander down to your belly, your hips, lower. Skating over your white silk nightgown, your fingertips press cautiously at a place where you sometimes feel an indistinct, uneasy sort of pleasure. You rarely touch yourself; you cannot do so without remembering that your body is not your own and never has been. But now, for the very first time and without any premeditation, you picture Aegon—his murky oceanic eyes, his crooked grin, his hands, his bravery, his gentleness, his shock of white-blond hair adorned with that single tiny braid—and instantly your once-ambiguous desire sharpens, strengthens, is accompanied by a wetness that you can feel blooming warm and needful beneath your nightgown.

But it’s not going to be him. It’s going to be some stranger who doesn’t know me and doesn’t want to.

You roll over onto your side and thrust your hands under the pillow, squeeze your eyes shut until they ache, try not to hear the moans that creep through the walls like dark veins of blood poisoning.

~~~~~~~~~~

All day you wait for someone to cross through the doorway of the brothel to claim you, a guard, a messenger, Daeron, Criston, anybody. But no one does. The women here keep strange hours: late to bed, late to rise, breakfast at noon, lunch at four or five, supper long after nightfall. You pick listlessly at a breakfast of biscuits with butter, honey, and blackberry jam, bacon, weak wine, pomegranate juice, lemonweed tea to prevent an unintended child like Autumn’s.

“I was stopped by a guard just outside the Red Keep,” she mutters to you in a stolen moment, huddled together at the end of a hallway by a window that opens out onto the courtyard. “They agreed to let me see Prince Daeron. He took the letter and said he would deliver it. That’s all I could do. I hope it’s enough.”

I hope so too, you think to yourself as you thank her, marveling with brick-heavy horror at how all the Valyrian ancestry and riches in the world cannot save you from the fate of being born a card for others to play, trade, bet on, use until it is worn and faceless. I hope so with everything I’m made of.

The other women take you with them to the bathhouse down the street, and in the labyrinth of sweltering pools and swirling steam you scrub yourself all over until your skin is tender to the touch. You use perfumed soaps and luxurious floral oils, not for healing but for vanity, so strange men will imagine you to be an intoxicating fantasy, so any human imperfections can be ignored. You pluck some stray hairs and trim others. You inspect each other for bruises or scratches or bitemarks that will need to be covered. No one mentions how they got them. Everybody knows.

Back in the brothel, the women show you how to wear your hair and do your makeup: black kohl on the eyes, beeswax dyed with berry juice on the lips, powder on the face to even out your complexion. Servants flit around fussing over hairstyles and switching ripped seams on dresses. Your silk gown—the one you will be raped in—is a soft, helpless, feminine lavender. You are shown to a bedchamber: flickering candles, a mountain of pillows and jewel-toned throw blankets, harp music and fresh air breathing in through the windows. You sit on the edge of the bed wringing your hands. You are waiting to be rescued. You are waiting to be harmed.

The door opens, and he enters. The madam was truthful: she has found you a slight, benign-looking young man. He smiles shyly, clanging in his light armor. He is indeed a soldier on leave from the front. He wears the crest of his family as the clasp for his cape, a white shield with a black cross. He is a Norcross, the same as the dying boy you were tending when Aemond pulled you off the battlefield at Rook’s Rest. How easy it would have been for you to not be here right now; a difference of a few minutes, a few meters, and Aemond never would have found you.

“Hello,” the man says pleasantly. He is yanking off his boots.

“Hello.” You are still sitting on the edge of the massive bed, big enough for four or five occupants. This is not a coincidence, you’re certain. But that will come later, once you have been sufficiently broken in. Your stomach lurches; you try not to show it.

Now he is taking off his cape. “You’re nervous,” he observes. There is a pitcher of wine on the table in the middle of the room. He pours two cups and hands one to you. You take it—intending to be dignified, ladylike—and then gulp it down. The Norcross laughs. “You needn’t fear me, maiden,” he says. “I am here for pleasure, not pain. I have paid a considerable price for you. You are a piece of treasure, a rare gem, and I will handle you accordingly.”

Then he reaches out to stroke your cheek, and something in you shatters, splits open, screams. I don’t know this man. I don’t trust this man. You shrink away from him and retreat to the center of the vast bed. The Norcross blinks at you, a little amused, a bit bewildered. “Sir, you have stumbled upon a great opportunity,” you tell him. “I am no ordinary woman.”

“No?” he says. But he is smirking beneath gleaming eyes, like this is a joke; and he is removing his armor as well.

“I am here as the result of a dreadful misunderstanding. You see, I have actually already been claimed. There is another man who has the right to take my innocence if he so chooses.”

“Oh?” the Norcross says. He is unbuttoning his white cotton shirt. “Who?”

“King Aegon.”

He throws his head back and guffaws, dark hair long enough to cover his ears and brush against the nape of his neck. “This is a very charming jape. Me? Getting to deflower the king’s chosen whore? Yes, yes, very good. Delightful. Delicious.” He crawls onto the bed; the mattress shifts beneath your palms. A cold sweat slicks across your skin. Goosebumps rise on your arms. He doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t want to.

“I’m not joking,” you implore the Norcross. “I am well-acquainted with King Aegon, he cares for me. I was brought here by mistake and against his knowledge. If you assist me in returning to him, I’m sure you will be generously compensated for your trouble—”

The man’s hand juts out, snags in your hair, yanks and tears at it. You yelp and struggle as he wrestles you down onto the mattress and settles his weight on top of you. “You’re mine, all mine,” he growls, smiling, playing along with what he has chosen to believe is a fantasy. “Not the king’s whore. The king has plenty of those already, he probably has thousands. But you’re all mine.”

“Get off me,” you order him, as if you are still the daughter of one of the wealthiest houses in Westeros and not some powerless, penniless woman imprisoned in ornate walls and perfumed silk; and isn’t this where you always would have ended up anyway? Flinching on some stranger’s bed as he tried to claim you, subdue you, force pieces of himself inside you?

“I will show you, maiden. The king is a cripple now. He could not satisfy you anyway. I will give you what he could not. And I’ll give it to you more than once, if you ask nicely.” He presses his lips to yours, a sickening mockery of a kiss, all flesh and no heat. He is wearing only his trousers; they could be gone in an instant. He is tugging your sleeves off your shoulders to get to your breasts.

“Please don’t do this, please stop, I’ll give you anything—”

“Everything I want is right here.”

Just let him do it, you think. I can’t leave this place, I can’t fight him off. There’s no way out. Just let him do it, and live to see if freedom will arrive tomorrow.

Aemond’s words fill your skull like flashes of lighting: If she tries to escape, kill her.

The Norcross man is pulling off his trousers. It strikes you like a closed fist: the terror, the injustice, the rage. You swing at his face, your knuckles rapping against his cheekbones. “Get off of me—!”

There is a tremendous fracturing noise, and at first you think the man must have snapped one of your bones, your radius or your tibia or your clavicle. But no: it was the bedchamber door being thrown open so violently it hit the wall behind it and cracked down the middle. And now there are footsteps, and now there are guards pouring into the room, and now the point of a blade bursts through the Norcross man’s windpipe splattering blood across the bed, the walls, the wood boards of the floor. You are shrieking; scarlet rain peppers your face, chest, hands.

“You’d take an unwilling woman?!” Aegon demands of the dying man, who gapes at him with rapidly fading eyes and a mouth hemorrhaging dark, lethal red. The king is wearing all black, tunic, trousers, boots. Half of his hair is pulled back from his face and secured with a black ribbon. You have never seen him like this before. You have never seen him brutal, formidable, furious. “You fucking animal. Enjoy drowning in your own blood.”

Aegon wrenches his sword free from the dying man’s throat and he falls face-down onto the mattress as you scramble away. And then Aegon falls too: his legs give out and he collapses to his knees, kneeling in a pool of the Norcross man’s blood, the hilt of his sword tumbling out of his grasp. You bolt off the bed and drop down onto the floor beside him.

“Aegon?!”

“Are you okay?” He takes your face in his hands—they’re shaking, they’re weak again, but just strong enough to cradle the slope of your jaw—and looks at you, turning your face one way and then the other, his eyes searching for bruises, lacerations, more fuel for the vengeful fire that blazes in him. The burn on his own right cheek is inflamed, blistering. He does not seem to notice.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, no, you got here just in time.”

And Aegon—this so-called monster, this alleged beast, this man who the Blacks swear is a villain and a degenerate and soulless—slips the sleeves of your silk lavender gown back up over your shoulders so your chest is covered. “If it’s any consolation, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Of course you would prefer me dressed like a prostitute.”

He laughs, embraces you, holds you to him, the first time he ever has. Your arms link around the back of his neck, your fingers knot in his hair. You are so close, yet not nearly close enough; you want him completely, always. You can’t claw your way back up the cliff you’ve fallen down.

There is a commotion as the guards that accompanied Aegon to the brothel part to allow two new arrivals into the bedchamber. Aemond and Criston now stand just inside the doorway, breathing heavily from their sprint across the city. Your gaze meets Aemond’s and you clutch Aegon tighter. The king kisses your temple—so quickly and unceremoniously it feels like a habit, something instinctual, something innately right—and reluctantly unravels himself from you. He grabs the nearest bedpost and hauls himself to his feet, wincing, groaning, bracing himself against it with both hands.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Aemond shouts at his brother.

“You will not harm her! You will not take her from me!”

“Aegon, she’s not a Thorne, she’s a Celtigar! Her father sits on Rhaenyra’s council, he funds her war effort, when our men are killed it’s with arrows and steel that he paid for—!”

“We’re all different people now!” Aegon roars. “All of us! You were some pathetic runt, I was useless, Daeron was a child, Helaena was happy, Criston was devoted to Rhaenyra, Mother was her closest friend, all of us have been changed by this world and its endless goddamn misery! So she was born a Celtigar, is she to be eternally condemned for that? Is she truly irredeemable? Can no acts of service to the Greens’ king convince you of her loyalty? She saved my life!”

“Are you insane?! We can’t trust her!”

“I am the king!” Aegon bellows. “I am still the one who gets to make these decisions, no matter how unworthy you think I am!”

“She lied to you, to me, to everyone, that cannot go unpunished!”

And then Aegon responds, but not in the Common Tongue. He says something—laboriously, haltingly—in a language you recognize only from hearing Daemon and Rhaenyra converse in it. You were not aware that Aegon knew High Valyrian well enough to carry a conversation. Perhaps Aemond and Criston weren’t either; they exchange a brief, astonished glance. The guards’ eyes dart between the king and the prince regent.

Aemond replies, his tone cutting but his words swift, seamless, graceful, fluent. Aegon stumbles his way through a sentence or two, pausing several times to conjure the correct word. Aemond says something else, an effortless litany of syllables your forebears shared. Aegon forces out one last plea. It sounds painful; it sounds like a confession. Aemond stares at his brother, perhaps scandalized, perhaps merely stunned.

“Alright?” Aegon pants, in anguish now. His hands are like talons on the bedpost, the force of his fingernails leaving white scratches in the wood. “You get it? You understand?”

“Fine,” Aemond says, low and bitter.

“You will not harm her. She stays in the Red Keep. Promise me, Aemond. I cannot rest until you do.”

Aemond nods, glaring down at the floor.

“Criston?” Aegon presses. “Promise me. If he breaks his word, you will stop him. I command this. I am your king.”

“I promise, Aegon,” Criston agrees, willingly enough.

“Good,” Aegon says. “Good.” And then he blacks out and crumples to the floor. The guards rush for him, but Criston tells them to stand back. He stoops low, lifts the king, throws him over one shoulder and carries him. Aemond fetches his brother’s fallen sword. You follow them out of the brothel, staying as far away from Aemond as you can. You pause just long enough to peek into the kitchen.

“Autumn?” you call, and she looks up from the chicken she’s been coating with herbs and butter. “I’m leaving now. You’re coming with me. Get your things.”

“What things?” she says, grinning. She cleans her hands and trots after you, one palm resting on the swell of her belly, her copper sea of hair streaming out behind her.

Inside the Red Keep, you inform the servants that Autumn will be staying as a guest of the royal family and that she is to have a room near yours. Then you hurry to Aegon’s chamber. He is sprawled across the bed, writhing and moaning. Grand Maester Orwyle is administering milk of the poppy. Criston is stripping him, heaving off Aegon’s boots and trousers before gingerly removing his tunic to reveal bandages red with blood around his shoulders. He has torn the half-mended flesh there. He suffers, he heals, he suffers again.

“Angel?” Aegon chokes out, reaching for you with tears flooding from his eyes.

“I’m here.” You take his hand. “What hurts, Aegon?”

“Everywhere,” he gasps.

You tell Orwyle: “Give him another dose.” And a second goblet of milk of the poppy is emptied down the king’s throat. Within a minute, he is mercifully unconscious again.

Criston looks at you. “What’s wrong with his face?”

“Sunlight. The rest of his burns were covered, but not the one on his cheek. Fresh burns must be kept out of the sun. He knows that.” You unwrap Aegon’s bandages; his wounds need to be cleaned and re-dressed.

“Oh, seven hells,” Criston whispers, covering his mouth with one hand. There are four or five ruptures around each shoulder, thin bleeding crevices that branch out like the legs of a red spider. Grand Maester Orwyle ambles off to order servants to fetch water, vinegar, honey, linen, more milk of the poppy.

“I should have done better,” you say, and your voice breaks. “I should have used more rose oil on his shoulders. I should have made him stretch three or four times a day.”

“You’ve tended to him tirelessly,” Criston says gently.

“I shouldn’t have lied about who I was.”

“I don’t see how you could have saved his life otherwise.”

“Go find Alicent,” you say. “Explain what’s happened, but don’t bring her to visit him yet. It will only upset her.”

“Yes,” Criston agrees, and leaves.

Outside, the sun is setting, and all the world is the color of dragonfire. Grand Maester Orwyle returns with servants and supplies. As you are dabbing at Aegon’s wounds with cloths dripping with water and vinegar, Daeron appears in the bedchamber doorway. His eyes—large and expressive like Aegon’s, but more crystalline, less dark—are shimmering and wider than you’ve ever seen them.

“Is he dying?” Daeron asks, sounding fearful and very young.

“No more than usual,” Aegon rasps; and that’s how you know he is awake again.

When Aegon is cleaned, bandaged, and soothed once again with milk of the poppy, the two of you are left alone. You perch on the edge of the mattress and can’t stop touching him, his left hand where his dragon ring glints in the flickering candlelight, his disheveled silver hair that still has that little braid you made for him. You don’t know what to say. You worry that if you begin talking, everything will spill out like a monsoon or a rogue wave, things you can’t take back, things you don’t fully understand yourself.

“House Celtigar, huh?” Aegon murmurs drowsily, smiling. “I’ve never been so happy to see a crab in my bed.”

And it hits you all at once: I would take every last drop of pain for this man. I would slit him open and drain him of it, swallow it down, assume the debt. I would carry every burden, every red flare of agony and ache in his bones. I would learn the art of self-loathing if he could forget it. I would trade fates with him, threads cut and crossed and burned to ash.

“What?” Aegon asks. He’s watching you with those storm-blue eyes, glassy with pain and poison.

Why wouldn’t you send someone else in your place? Why would you go yourself? Why would you injure yourself so grievously, so senselessly? “Why would you do this for me?”

“You are the only person I’ve never disappointed. I’d like to keep that going if I can.” He takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours. “You’re so far away.”

You lie down on the bed and curl up beside him, careful not to put pressure on his fresh wounds. You place one palm on the center of his bandaged chest, the other against his unburned cheek. Aegon pulls you in closer until your noses are nearly touching and you swing one leg up to rest on top of his; even then, he keeps a hand on your thigh, as if to make sure you don’t leave. The other twists into your hair and stays there. Aegon dives into a deep, starless sleep and you doze next to him. When you catch wisps of dreams like fireflies in a child’s grasp, you hear crashing waves and see dragons pitching into the sea: Vermax at the Gullet, Arrax into Shipbreaker Bay.

Why did Aemond have to murder Luke? Why did he have to start this war?

Something wakes you, a sound, an indescribable shift in the room. You open your eyes and turn to see Aemond, arms crossed and back propped against the opposite wall. You rise as carefully as you can so you don’t disturb Aegon, untangling yourself from him like he’s something catastrophically fragile, a spider’s web, a splintering pane of glass.

You stand and take several steps towards Aemond, only so you can speak without waking Aegon. “What do you want?”

“I fear I did not conduct myself particularly well yesterday,” he says. “I may have acted…impulsively. Unwisely.”

“Your capacity for self-reflection is truly inspiring.”

Aemond frowns. “I’m being serious.”

“I’m not interested.”

“If we are to be on the same side of this war, we should learn to understand each other.”

“I don’t want to understand you. Your mind must be a horrible place to live.”

He stares at you with his sole remaining eye, cold and hurt and wrathful and hopeless.

You ask softly, knowing that only Aemond can tell you: “What did he say? Back at the brothel?”

Aemond does not answer for so long that you convince yourself he’s not going to. At last, he decides to extend a peace offering. “He said that he cannot live without you. Or that he wouldn’t want to. I’m not certain which he meant. His High Valyrian has always been terrible.”

Then Aemond walks out of the room without another word.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen x you

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ladykailitha · 6 months ago

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Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 8

Hello! It does look like there is only one more chapter to write on Paper Hearts so yay!!! I'm not sure how much longer Sweet Home Indiana is but it's nearing it's end too.

Steve is never going to go to another party after this, Eddie gets book two of the Boy with a Bat, and they have a frank discussion about how Eddie gets paid for his less than legal side gig.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

trigger warning: homophobic language by an OC.

****

At least the swim team knew to how to throw a party. Lyle was hosting and even though his family wasn’t well off, not like Steve’s parents, there was still enough room for the whole team and a few of their friends to have a good time.

Granted there wasn’t any booze, not openly anyway, but there were ice chest after ice chest of canned sodas. And all kinds, too. Steve was on his third Coke and had already sussed out the dude with the beer and was working his way over.

Going right up to the guy was asking for trouble that neither of them wanted.

The music wasn’t too loud, but you could dance to it in the main part of the house. People were actually laughing and having fun.

Which really should have been Steve’s cue. The universe was out to get him and wouldn’t let him have a moment’s peace.

He had almost reached the guy with the beer when Ezra blocked his path.

“Hey, Steve,” he greeted syrupy sweet. “I’m so glad you made it out. I wasn’t sure if you would come without Eddie Munson.”

Steve frowned and tried to move around his co-captain. “I go lots of places without Eddie. I went to nationals without him, didn’t I?”

Ezra put his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him. “Sure you did, but we didn’t win nationals now, did we?”

Steve looked down at the hand on his chest. “We swam our hearts man, the other teams were just better. Hell, that team from Georgia was on fire.”

Ezra snorted and rolled his eyes. “They only got where they were because they were black. They didn’t have any real talent. Not like us. Not like you and me, Steve.”

“Are you saying Lyle and Nick held us back?” he asked with his brow furrowing deeper in his confusion.

“We’ve always known that Lyle is a strong swimmer and not a fast one,” Ezra moaned waving the drink in his other hand around. “But he’s all this shit town has on offer.”

Steve gently pushed Ezra off of him. “Hey, how about not talking shit about the actual host, man.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he huffed. “That’s not even why I’m over here. I’m here to warn you about Munson.”

And there it was. Everyone in his life had felt the need at some point in the last six months to warn him off the super senior.

The other boy leaned in close, his lips a snarl. “He’s a queer, a little faggot boy,” he hissed, the spit landing on Steve’s face. “It’s the town’s worst kept secret.”

Ice slid down Steve’s spine. Oh shit. Of all the places he thought the other co-captain was going to go, that was not it. Drugs. DND. The ranting on table tops. All that slid away to sheer terror.

“And you better not bend over in the showers,” Ezra continued, “a pretty thing like you would just be his type.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wha–what do you mean?”

“Everyone knows that if you can’t pay for your weed,” Ezra sneered, “that he’s willing to take a blowjob as payment instead.” He leaned further into Steve’s space, so that they were almost touching, the stench of weed radiating off the other boy in waves. “I saw Harry Masters sucking him off for a gram of the good stuff.”

Steve stomach lurched and swooped, bile rising up in his throat. Harry Masters was on the baseball team. He was tall, good looking, with that devil may care charm of Rob Lowe. Looked like him, too.

“What he does or doesn’t do doesn’t effect me, man,” he said, trying to aim for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

Ezra laughed in his face.

“Dude,” he cackled, “if you didn’t want people to think you’re down bad for ‘the Freak’ maybe rein in the eye fucking. I’ve seen the way you look at him and it makes me sick.”

That was when Steve got it. He had been wondering what the hell this conversation was.

“Oh my god!” he laughed. “Fuck, man, you were scaring me for a second there. You’re just jealous I don’t have the hots for you.”

Ezra pushed him. “The fuck I do, Harrington!”

“No, no!” Steve crowed. “I’ve got it all figured it out. All the times I caught you staring at me, all the times I felt someone watching me, all the times you’d try to keep me late after practice. You wanted me all to yourself.”

His co-captain turned purple with rage and swung at Steve, but before he could even flinch, there was someone at his side, holding Ezra’s wrist to keep the hit from even going anywhere near Steve’s face.

“Eddie!” Steve breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie smiled at him with that soft dimpled grin Steve loved. “Hey ya, Stevie. I was just plying my wares when I heard the commotion and came over to make sure you were all right.”

“So you are my good luck charm,” Steve said brightly.

Ezra wrenched his arm out of Eddie’s hand. “This doesn’t concern you, Freak!”

Eddie leaned in close and cocked his head to the side. “It does, because you were talking shit about me and Stevie, here. And as Stevie’s good friend, I’mma gonna come to his rescue. Now, you’re going to skedaddle on home and sleep all this off.”

Ezra spat in his face. “Or what?”

The older teen just smiled menacingly. “Or else that gram you smoked will be the last you ever smoke, because I’ll report to you for doping for matches.”

Ezra paled and he gulped. “You can’t do that! I’ve never done anything but weed.”

“That’s true,” Eddie admitted. “But they’d have to do this big investigation and your name would be dragged through the mud. Or you could toddle off and go to college and leave this town in your rearview mirror.”

Ezra turned on his heel and ran out of the house as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “You do know this is where all the allegations about you being a devil worshiping cult leader come from, right?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “They can think all they want.”

Eddie and Steve talked about what Ezra had said about how people make payments for their weed.

“I won’t deny that people have offer to blow me or even have sex with me in exchange for drugs,” Eddie said as they lay curled up on his bed. “But I’ve never taken anybody up on that.”

Steve twisted his head to look up at his boyfriend. “I can’t say I’m not pleased to hear that, but is there a reason why?”

“Several,” he admitted pulling Steve in closer. “One is that there is an actual fucking pandemic going on regarding gay men, and I wouldn’t trust those assholes even with a condoms. Another is that if I say yes to one, then I’ve got to say yes to next guy. And as my supplier wants actual cash for his product, blow jobs aren’t currency in any country I know of. And despite what Ezra said, most of the people offering aren’t men.”

Steve hummed as he snuggled under Eddie’s chin. “I can see that. Any other reasons why you won’t?”

“Does having a super hot boyfriend count?” he chuckled.

Steve kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a very good reason.” His hand slipped down his boyfriend’s side and to his belt. “A super hot boyfriend who is very grateful for the rescue.”

Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers ghosted over his zipper. “Yeah and how are you going to show that gratitude?”

Steve slid down Eddie body and undid his belt. “I was thinking it was such a shame you didn’t get those blow jobs when your cock is so delectable.”

Eddie gasped and threw back his head as his super hot boyfriend’s breath felt hot on the front of his boxers. “God, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

And Steve spent their evening doing just that.

Steve fidgeted nervously at Eddie’s locker after school. He had finished the most recent comic with only a week of school to spare. He had made sure that Jonathan and Nancy weren’t staying after school for any reason so they didn’t see him make the hand off. He knew he should have just done it at the trailer, but with him cutting it so fine before the end of the year, he didn’t want to make Jeff and the others wait for it.

Eddie loped over to his boyfriend and looked around. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

He thrust the comic at Eddie, his eyes downcast. “It’s the most recent comic. There’s an explanation like before. But please don’t let people see that part.”

Eddie cradled the comic to his chest. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m guessing this means you aren’t coming over tonight?”

Steve shook his head. “Lucas wants to go see the latest Bond film, but his friends don’t want to go with him...”

“So you offered to take him,” Eddie finished. “That’s sweet of you.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “His parents think I’m taking him to ‘Meet the Littles’ or some shit like that.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, that’s more like the Steve Harrington I know and love.”

“I’ll call when I get home, though...” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” Eddie murmured. “Well talk then.”

This time Eddie went straight to the back page to read the explanation first.

“Hey, Eds,

Again there are parts in between this, parts that don’t include me, that I’ll some day tell you all about. But I’m focusing on the parts I was part of. This time it all started with what the kids thought was a new species of lizard and turned out to be the beginning stages of an Upside Down monster. One they they dubbed the demodog.

I can just picture you frowning as you try to remember where you heard that from and the answer is you heard it from me. You asked me what it was and I told you it from one of their game thingies, but that’s only part of it. These demodogs have flower faces and run on four legs. They are part of a hive mind that allows them to communicate with each other.

Dustin had taken one of these things home and it ate his cat. His cat. You can be disgusted, I know I was. He had originally gone to Nancy’s for help but she had gone off with Jonathan about something related to Barb Holland. This was right after our fight at the Halloween party.

I was on my way with roses to apologize to her, when he intercepted me. And the rest is as they say is history. I would do anything for that kid now.

The other players are Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield. I don’t know if you need to know that, but I feel like you have to understand that for the rest of it to make sense.

I have so many tales to tell you but I can’t because it could get you hurt and that is the last thing I want to do.

Also, (blurred words) show you all the times I was brave, that I did the (more blurred words) when it came (blurred words) because I love you so much and (blurred words again) less of me.

Love,

Your Stevie”

Eddie hated how easy Steve had pegged him for frowning at the name like he said he would or how he knew he would be disgusted at the poor cat. He stared at the blurred words for a moment before his own eyes welled up.

Steve had tried writing over the parts with what were clearly tear drops but all it had done was make it worse. Why he didn’t just write again, Eddie didn’t know.

But Eddie could now make out the words, “Also, I wanted to show you all the times I was brave, that I did the right thing when it came to it, because I love you so much and I didn’t want you thinking less of me.”

He flipped back to the beginning and started reading. It was thrilling and exciting. That was if you didn’t know it really happened. And happened to the sweetest boy he had the privilege of knowing.

He wiped away his tears and made a promise to whatever it took to protect this boy with every fiber of his being. Because by god, someone had to.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

@messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce

@acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras @ravenfrog

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #boy with a bat

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knb-shitposting · 8 months ago

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BABY/KID GOM HEADCANONS!!!

Midorima-

Had a strange obsession with rubber ducks. Had like 15 of them and refused to bathe without atleast 5 being present

He named every single one

He was the first one in his class to memories all the tables

He had a very hard time making friends :(

Had 1 friend that was actually his cousin but he moved states

But its okay the teachers loved him!!

Sat with teachers during lunch

Grew out of his shoes very fast and hated buying new ones bc he had a hard time adjusting to change

Had the cutest baby face and smile. Literally he was the cutest kid do not fight me!!!

Once him and his mom were going for a walk and a random woman came up to them and asked to take a pic with baby mido because he looked THAT cute.

it was either the cutest or the most off-putting thing to watch a 4 feet, oddly baby faced, 3rd grader trying to speak in polished adult vocabulary

Murasakibara-

Grew out of his clothes very fast

always at the back of every class photo

there was a kid that asked him "hows the weather up there" for 3 weeks straight and one day he got so fed up he told him that it was raining and spit on him

always picked first in pe

never shared his lunchbox w anyone

always picked out the vegetables during lunch and got scolded by the teacher for it

had to hold the teachers hand during every feild trip bc he kept wandering off

kissed every animal on its head during a school zoo trip. the techers took a picture every time he did.

his teachers made him take a photo w a baby giraffe and it was so cute

always got his siblings passed down shoes and clothes

sat in his siblings lap all the time. cuddled and played with them all the time as well. he was so full of love

Kise

like midorima, very cute kid, people asked to take pictures with him

his parents had to turn down modelling application since he was in 4th

he never got any stationary. always borrowed from the girls

got kissed on the cheek by the principal once

DOMINATED the sport periods

he actually enjoyed sports back then. he was in football, badminton, and the tennis team all at once

missed a lot of academic periods bc of that

had trouble socializing wit the guys in his class bc they all were jealous

failed math in elementary twice

learned the table of 7 in middle school

Aomine

He put a frog on momoi's head once and she started sobbing immediately. and started yelling at aomine to take the frog off her head

he thought it was the funniest thing ever. but then she started like screaming and some grandpa had to take it the frog off her head

she slapped him and said that they werent friends anymore.

He didnt take it seriously but then momoi started to ignore him at school and the park so he got scared shitless

he rehearsed so many apologies but in the end pulled up to momoi's house with this mom and shyly hid behind his mom while she talked to momois mom

Aomines mom and momois mom thought it was so cute and funny. They sent aomine to momois room to apologies and recorded the entire thing

he made momoi an origami swan as an apology. she forgave him!! yay!!

slept next to his mom till middle school

was actually very radiant and had many friends

failed english in elementary

always got his shoes dirty and torn beyond repair

Kuroko-

his teacher missed him during school trip headcounts and he got left behind at the zoo. like the bus literally left

he was calm and collected and just told one of the guards there to give him their phone so he can call his mom

his mom called the school furious and the bus came back mid way to pick him up

his teacher was crying and hugged him TIGHT. and she apologized a million times

he kissed her cheek!! aw

had 2 ride or die friends

the cutest girl in his class had a vvery obvious crush on him

passed elementary with exactly 50%

Momoi

people loved her hair!! everyone loved to play with it

told aomine every thought that came into her mind

played basketball with him sometimes

she was absolutely dominating girls basketball

but then she quit bc height

had only female friends

had girls only slumber parties where she'd steel her moms make up and nail paint

she once actually ate her moms lipstick and said it tasted good

at one point she became really close with this one girl which made aomine so jealous he cried at her doorstep

she fed stray dogs regularly

Akashi

obsessed with remote controlled cars and planes

had a phase where he hated masaomi and loved masaomi to death during his toddler years

on one hand he wouldnt let masaomi even 5 feer near his remote controlled car collection

on the other hand when he was 4 he needed. NEEDED masaomi to sleep

he needed to be on masaomi's lap, shoulder anywhere

he gave him lots of kisses

And masaomi thought it was so cute

and akashi used to stare at him with such awe and love masaomi cried once. he got teased by shiori

Masaomi took him to work one day just to for demo or smth

and within 5 mins 4 year old akashi got stolen by the employees and they all played w him!1

he definitely sucked his thumb

needed a good morning and goodnight kiss from shiori to survive

he loved to watch the maids cook

#generation of miracles #aomine daiki #momoi satsuki #akashi seijuro #the basketball which kuroko plays #midorima shintarou #kise ryouta #knb headcanons #kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko tetsuya #masaomi akashi #shiori akashi #my proudest headcanon yet]

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emilybahu · 2 months ago

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My Thoughts While Watching 8x01 of 9-1-1:

(Literally no one asked for this and it’s so late, but whatever… I had fun spending an hour and a half watching a 43 minute tv show episode to share my thoughts 🤷‍♀️)

1. Oh this poor man just bought his new plane then he gets caught in a beenado… what did he do to deserve that?

2. Oh crap oh crap! He about to crash!!

3. God damn Gerrard… I hate him with every fiber of my being😠

4. EDDIE I love you, I love you, I love you! But now that Gerrard said he likes the mustache it’s gotta go…

5. BUCK’S CRULS ARE FREE!!! Omg I just love him so much he’s so pretty!

6. Also, Gerrard 🙄🙄🙄

7. 3 MONTHS AGO! Not much of a time jump my ass! LIARS!

8. Who are you Gerrard? Donald Trump? Building a fence (wall)…

9. ATHENA! Hey queen! Oh wait, they making you transport the man who killed your fiancé… yikes 😬

10. He requested her!?

11. Buck… BUCK! What are you doing!? Get away from the ledge!

12. “Don’t jump!” “Why not?” 😀 Buck you know perfectly well why we don’t want you to jump, and it has nothing to do with the quote below.

13. “Gerrard would just make us clean you up off the sidewalk.” This line is hilarious and so not hilarious at the same time!

14. My poor baby boy! Buck come here let me give you a hug!

15. Chimney making fun of Eddie’s mustache 😂

16. Bobby the technical advisor 🤭

17. It’s so funny that there’s a show within the show!

18. Poor Bobby, like it is partially his fault that he’s not at the 118 right now, but you can tell he misses his team 🥺

19. Oh this kid, I love her already! And fair question Mom, what exactly does she mean by “hooking up”?

20. OH NO THE BEEEESSSS!!!

21. Yesss Buck and his fun facts! I love it!

22. Ugh 😑 Gerrard, that’s rude, our favs at the 118 are beautiful! You’re just salty because you’re old and ugly and no one likes you.

23. I’m sorry like half of this is gonna be me complaining about Gerrard… he’s so rude though! How dare he yell at Josh like that, for something he can’t control.

24. No, no, no! The bees got in!

25. No, no, nope! ABSOLUTELY NOT! The bees fucking went down the second driver’s throat!? I’d be outta there in a second!

26. Why did you smack the bee!? Aahhhhhh no!

27. Thank god the girl is okay! Oh damn, of course the mom gets stung too!

28. “Why do I taste honey?” SIR?!

29. Oh god no!

30. This poor kid, this has got to be so incredibly traumatic, she had to give her own mother an EpiPen.

31. God I’m sorry, I just love Buck so much! That little smile when the bee landed on his finger! ☺️

32. Good lord here I go again… what the hell Gerrard! Buck saved the patients and you’re reprimanding him!

33. “It’s a beenado” 🐝🌪️

34. Bobby and Athena house hunting! I love them!

35. Here goes Athena breaking my heart…💔

36. Eeeeeee! Family dinner! I love this so much!

37. Mara calls them Mom and Momma! It’s too cute! And Jee omg I can’t even with her! She’s precious!

38. Awwww Chimney bonding with Mara over Harry Potter! I love that for them!

39. Yes Denny, their boss is a jerk, you are very correct!

40. Eeeeeeee! Tommy! I didn’t think we’d see you in episode one!! Yay!!!

41. Literally I got so excited when I saw the cupcakes and the sign, I thought Chris might be coming back… oh how I was wrong.

42. Oh my boys! I love them so much! I NEED to see more of Buck, Eddie, and Tommy together!

43. I may or may not have actually screamed… Buck and Tommy flirting! They are so adorable together I can’t handle this!

44. Oh Eddie, bless his heart! So excited to talk to Chris and wish him a happy birthday. Meanwhile his son still can’t look at him, even though a computer screen. 😢

45. He made such an effort, just for the screen to freeze and for Chris to leave him hanging. You can see the man’s heart breaking behind his eyes. My heart broke too, but I understand the kid needing time.

46. But seriously seeing Eddie’s lip quiver like that when his mom mentions putting in a pool… PLEASE CHRIS COME BACK TO US! We can’t handle seeing your dad this heartbroken! 💔

47. This woman be here having a midlife crisis, making her own fragrance, only for the bees to crash her party.

48. “Tomorrow is going to be flawless” cue the giant swarm of killer bees just hanging out on top of the tent.

49. Oop her party is ruined…

50. Oh not Buck volunteering Eddie ass the bee bait! 😂

51. “But why me?” “Because you’re the fastest runner!” Stop it now I’m cackling! 🤣

52. The close up of Eddie’s face has me wheezing! 🤣🤣 Oooo he runnin’!!

53. Oh that close up bee cgi is sooo bad it’s hilarious! 🤣

54. Yeah sure, duct tape fixes everything, but why is it in the medical bag!?

55. “I’ve been shot before, I’m pretty sure I can handle this.” It’s funny because the beekeeper was talking to the bees not Eddie! 🤣 (sorry for the excessive use of the laughing emojis I can’t help it)

56. Come on man, Buck is like a little puppy, you gotta give him some praise!

57. And we have Buck with the episode title drop!

58. Noooo Athena! 😢 Come on let me give you a hug! 🫂 So much ✨Trauma✨

59. Ooo this is a fishy situation…but Athena knows what’s up.

60. NO ONE and I mean no one messes with Athena Grant! She knows her shit!

61. She straight up locked this man in a trunk of a car in the middle of the desert! My dude, what!?

62. “Get yourself back to LA in one piece.” Little did she know what was going to happen next…

63. Not the actor being star struck by Bobby, I love that!

64. “I’m gonna study you tip to tail” 🤣

65. Good god Gerrard you got everyone watching Buck like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t deck you.

66. Eddie walking behind Gerrard signing to Buck to cut it out… he tried to help

67. “Broody little pout” 🤣✨

68. Do WE need to remind YOU Gerrard who’s the TRUE captain of this firehouse… news flash it’s NOT YOU!

69. Eddie in the background, we all know he’s got Buck’s back

70. Eeww I just paused on the close up of Gerrard’s mouth… gross. Also, have I mentioned that I HATE this man.

71. Oh my good god! Buck’s eyes are fucking beautiful!

72. Woah, oh wow, that was crazy dude! I seriously can’t tell if Buck snapped and tackled him to the ground, or if he did it to save him.

73. OH CRAP! OF FUCKING COURSE ATHENA WAS ON THE PLANE FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE EPISODE!

#911 abc #9-1-1 #911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #chimney han #hen wilson #bobby nash #athena grant #911 thoughts #911 season 8 #911 8x01

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buckyscrystalqueen · 7 months ago

Text

Winter Wolf: Part 14

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst

Word Count: 3,523

A/N: Finally got the muse to finish this story! YAY!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who’s the cutest little princess in the whole wide world?” Bucky cooed from your bathroom as he gave Anastasia a bath, while you caught your notebook up on the last two years of your life. You smirked to yourself as your daughter giggled away and splashed in the water in her blow up bath tub in the shower. “You are! Yes, you are!”

“Thought I was the cutest in the world.” You called out, playfully as you leaned to the side the slightest bit to see your husband with your eyebrow cocked.

“Not anymore!” He cooed, teasingly with barely a glance over at you. “Ana wins that, hands down now. You didn’t age so well in the dinosaur years.”

“You’re rude!” You laughed as you chucked a pillow at him, easily hitting him in the side to which he completely overreacted to make Ana laugh harder.

“What was that?!” He asked her as he shook his head and pushed himself off where he had purposely fallen to his hip. “Did Mommy just hit me, go boom?! Oh, yes she did, and Daddy’s gunna remember that shit later tonight, too. Yes he will.”

“Are you receiving company?” Tony asked as he knocked gently on your open bedroom door. You froze the slightest bit and closed your notebook as you looked over at him in shock.

“Umm... yes? How am I supposed to answer that, Tony.”

“I know I ruined your birthday.” He started as he opened up his tablet and held it out to you. “And I also didn’t get you a wedding gift. But I figured I’d at least try to kill three birds with one stone with this as a way of apologizing for what I put you through, after everything you have done for the world.” You nodded and scooted across the bed to take the tablet as Bucky did his best to get his daughter out of the bath peacefully for bed so he could see what was going on. You looked at the screen and almost instantly felt the scalding heat you felt the day you watched your home burn to the ground.

“My plantation.” You whispered as you looked at the charred remains. “It’s still there?!”

“It’s technically a historical site.” Tony said as he glanced over at Bucky as he leaned on your door frame. “You owned the biggest plantation in Georgia during the Civil War. It was on the market for a while back in the late 1800’s, early 1900’s but then was taken off...”

“When I moved to London to go to school.” You said with a nod. “I was a doctor... my Lord.” You whispered with a shake of your head.

“Well the property went to the government some time in the 1920’s, and was deemed historical. So they maintained the property and the other houses and stables. But they never rebuilt the main house...”

“There’s an old willow tree a ways to the right of the house.” You said as you closed your eyes and tried to look past the last day you were there in your mind. “It was nearly as tall as the house and I could see if from my bedroom window. Is it still there?” You opened your eyes and looked over at Tony, who slowly shook his head and shrugged.

“I’m not sure. It took me a while to track this place down, because no one knew who the owner was after the war, and I haven’t been down to look yet. Figured you’d want to go first.” You nodded your head and looked back down at the photo as Bucky sat down on the bed beside you with Ana.

“It had a huge wrap around porch.” You told him as you showed him the photo with a small smile as more memories flooded your mind. “John made us rocking chairs that sat right here so we could watch the sun set. Mine had a hole in the right arm from when I stabbed it with my knitting needle after a disagreement one night. And it had these big white columns in front that held up the roof and the small porch up there. Look, baby... this is where Mommy lived.” You said to Ana as you traded Bucky her for the tablet when she tried to get away from her dad.

“We can leave in the morning if you’d like.” Tony said as he pushed off the door frame. “Jet’s ready. Just let me know when you are, whenever you are.”

“Tony.” You called out before he could walk away as your daughter used you as a jungle gym. “Thank you.” He gave you a tight nod and a small smile before he turned and walked away, leaving you to catch up on your memories with your husband.

“So you owned a plantation?” Bucky said, because it was partially news to both of you.

“I inherited it when John passed.” You said with a nod as you wrangled your toddler into your lap. “It’s strange, until I saw that photo, all I could remember of that place was the day I was shot and left. But now, I’m seeing the giant wood burning stove in the kitchen, and the stone fireplace in the parlor. I can see the staircase that ran up the right side of the main hall, that led all the way to the back with this... oh, God it was the most hideous carpet in the world, but it belonged to John’s mother and he loved it.” You scoffed and shook your head as you got up to put Ana in her jammies. “I am not sorry to see that carpet burned down. I wonder if the fire went all the way down to the basement.” You said as you paused at Ana’s dresser and turned around with your brow furrowed. “There’s... there’s something in the basement... I can’t remember...”

“Well, do you want to go look tomorrow?” He asked, pulling you from your thoughts so you could get your daughter dressed. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind seeing this ‘biggest plantation in Georgia’ that my wife owns.”

“It was a big plantation.” You agreed with a huff. “Pain in my rear to work and hotter than all get out most days.”

“Oh, and we’re turning Southern with it.” He laughed as he scooted up on the bed to relax in his spot. “You worked the fields?”

“I did.” You said with a slow nod as you picked up your clothed daughter and walked over to the bed so she could have her night time bottle before bed. “I was a woman before my time back then, and still a Yankee at heart you could say. When John and I married, I convinced him to free our slaves, and made sure they all worked for pay. He was very well off, he could afford it, and they all worked even harder if at all possible once the overseer was let go. But when the war happened, money got a little tight, and we lost quite a few hands to typhoid but the work still needed to be done. So yes, I worked my fields until the war was dropped on my doorstep one night.”

“You know, you get more and more impressive every single day.” He said as he set Tony’s tablet aside to lay down beside Ana so he could look at you. “I am so honored to get to call you my wife, doll.”

“Even though my memories come in snippets and I’m dinosaur old?” You teased as you picked up your notebook to update some past notes.

“Absolutely.” He laughed as he reached across the pillows to rub your back. “Makes you mysterious.”

“OK, we’ll go with that.” You laughed as you handed him the remote so he could put on the ‘Good Night Moon’ show Ana loved before bed while you wrote. You hummed and shook your head as you opened your notebook and clicked on the plantation memories page. “Mysterious, he says. Crazy I say.”

“Go write your notes!”

——

You were glad to see that the massive live oaks lining your driveway were still just as gorgeous as ever, but it absolutely disgusted you to see that your front lawn had been turned into a giant gravel parking lot. A deep growl rolled from your chest, and Steve gently reached over the front seat to grab your wrists, while Bucky put his hand on your knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We can fix it, sweetheart.” Your husband said softly as Happy, Pepper’s assistant, parked his rental car beside the one Tony, Pepper, and their lawyers were in, since parking the jet on your property was apparently not an option. Your growl turned into grumbling as you got out of the car, but turned right back into a much deeper growl when you turned to see a six foot tall, chain link fence around your old home. But all noises simply stopped when you saw your willow tree.

“I’m gunna fucking kill someone.” You said as you ripped away from Bucky and Steve and stormed over to your tree, where a young couple was carving their initials amongst the decades of others, including your and John’s original carvings. “Back the fuck up!” You roared as you let your claws fly just as Steve wrapped his arm around your upper torso and yanked you back.

“Just back away from the tree.” He said quickly to the terrified kids with a shake of his head. “Go on.” The second they were clear, he set you down, and you retracted your claws to walk over and run your fingers over the destroyed wood.

“No...” You said with a shake of your head with tears in your eyes as you looked around until you found the faint, misshapen heart that was almost gone with age, and distorted letters carved by your late husband.

“We’ll see if we can fix it, baby.” Bucky said softly as he touched the small of your back. “Look, the older ones are already fading.” You nodded your head slowly and looked up at the higher names, that were a little less distorted than yours, but were fading as well.

“You must be Mr. Stark.” A peppy older woman in period clothes said as she headed over to the group. “My name is Abigail, I’ll be your guide of the Jackson Plantation...”

“I’m sorry, the what?!” You said as you whipped around to look at her with rage in your eyes, which made Tony step between the pair of you with a tight ‘all business’ smile.

“You’re gunna want to clear the property.” He said evenly with a nod. “Now. For everyone’s safety.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that...” Abigail said as you stormed away from the group to look at a metal plaque on your side of the fence around your house.

“Oh, this is not good.” Bucky said with a shake of his head as you read the lies someone had made up about your house, before you simply ripped it off the post and easily crumbled it in a ball before Steve could get to you.

“Wait, you can’t do that!” Abigail shrieked as you ripped the fence open with more grumbling and headed up to your house with Steve, and Bucky right behind you.

“I’m warning you once more.” Tony said as he simply watched your guide’s horrified expression. “Clear the premises...”

“I’m calling the police!” She cried as she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her dress.

“I am the fucking police here!” You roared from the front steps as you rounded and glared at her. “This is my fucking land! You are trespassing here!”

“This is property of the National Parks Services...” She tried with shaky hands, which made the Wolf rear her ugly head at the woman’s weakness as a sinister darkness filled your eyes.

“And that’s where you’re fucking wrong.” You said as you slowly walked back down the steps toward her. “This land belonged to my first husband, John William Scott, who was a confederate soldier that died in the war. The plantation, which was named Green Pebble Hill by his aunt, Cecelia Ann Scott MacDonald when she was a child because of the moss covered pebbles in the stream in the back fields by the way, was left to me, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) Scott, his sole heir because I’m not able to bear children due to my mutation. Find his will, I know he had one. It’s dated May 16th, 1864, the day before he left to join ranks before the war even started.

The house was burned down by Yankee soldiers in July of 1865, four days after I got a letter saying my husband was killed, not by looters in 1868 like your historically inaccurate sign claims. Burned down by men who were instructed to kill me when they found that I was helping both their soldiers and ones of the confederacy. I was shot in the left lung for helping wounded men, no matter what color their coat was, because that is what good people do. But thanks to my mutation, I can’t fucking die! My body just rejected the musket ball as they burned my home to cinders. Now, get these people off my fucking property immediately or you will learn all about the hell I’ve been through the past one hundred and twenty four years since I first learned how horrible people could be just for the fucking sake of it!” She nodded her head frantically as you turned on your heel to head back up to your house, grumbling under your breath. “Stevie, help me with this.” You said as you carefully walked up on the porch again. “There’s a safe in the basement. It has that letter... I think the will...”

“Babe, be careful.” Bucky said as you grabbed a long, charred, weather warn piece of wood that made up part of the wall of your first floor and lifted it up so that your best friend could see a similar piece of wood that was attached to it on the far side of the house.

“OK, I see it.” He said as he jumped down and ran to the other side as tourists began to flood toward the parking lot to leave.

“(Y/N), we can get a construction crew...” Pepper tried, but Bucky quickly looked back and shook his head at her.

“Just leave her. She’s being buried by new memories, and she’s battling the Wolf. No one can stop her right now.”

“Get ahold of your boss.” Tony said as you and Steve chucked the wood away from the building. “I want contact information to whomever believes they own this land. We’ll be taking it back from them now.” Abigail nodded her head again and continued making phone calls as you and Steve made a path down to the basement that seemed relatively untouched thanks to it’s all stone frame.

“It’s...” You said as you jumped down into the basement after twenty minutes of clearing the rubble of your upper two floors and hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to picture yourself putting the letter in the safe as Steve jumped down in front of you to help. You turned around in your spot and went through the motions of the memory, before your head shot up and to your left. “Over here. Under some flour sacks.”

“I need a light!” Steve called out as you took a step in that direction but stumbled the slightest bit over a small pile of stones. “Wait, (Y/N). We’re getting a light.”

“Here, Tony said just put it on.” Bucky said as he carefully leaned over the edge and dropped Tony’s Ironman helmet down to Steve. Your best friend held it out to you and you squeezed it on to your head before squinting at the bright screen that popped up in front of you.

“Man, what did I do with only lanterns down here?” You asked yourself as you awkwardly stepped over the stones, around whatever had started to grow in the dark space, and over to the sacks of flour that was your safe’s cover with the help of the night vision from Tony’s suit. Once they were thrown to the side, you picked up the three by three cast iron safe with a grunt, and carried it back over to Steve.

“Alright, hold on. Let me get out first.”

“How do I get this thing off... Oh.” You gasped as the mask opened and shrunk down to sit like a thick necklace. “That works.”

“You find it?” Bucky asked as Steve found solid ground and kneeled down to help. You passed it up to him and climbed out yourself as Tony, Pepper, and his lawyers talked to the cops that came to deal with the ‘disturbance’ with Abigail, her boss, and a pair of local representatives from the National Park Services.

“OK, wait just set it here.” You said as you pointed to the ground by the back steps as you kneeled down beside it. “Shit. When is his birthday? Or was it the day we met.”

“Don’t think of it that way.” Bucky said as he came around to the back of the house to see what was inside this little mystery box. “That’s not gunna help here like it doesn’t help you find your cell phone at home, remember? Walk through the last time you used it like you did in the basement. Picture yourself with the letter in your hand.” You nodded your head and closed your eyes as you held out your hand with the letter in it. “Down the stairs, to the left. You moved those bags and kneeled down. You reached out and turned the dial to...”

“Thirty-two.” You said as you opened your eyes and leaned forward. “Seventeen. Nine. His birthday backwards.” A smile spread across your face as the locked popped open, and the metal door creaked as you pulled it open. “Thank you baby. I never would have remembered that. See, the letter.” You said as you carefully pulled it out and unfolded the telegram. You looked over the slightly faded ink with a small sigh, before wiping off the top of the safe and setting it down. “Oh, look. His will. I didn’t know I had the original. Oh, look at this.” You laughed as you pulled out an old photograph of you on your wedding day. “I made that dress by hand. And this picture took forever to take. Cameras weren’t what they are back then.”

“God, you haven't change a bit.” Bucky said as he sat down beside you to look, as Steve crouched down on your other side.

“I aged like a fine wine.” You teased as you added the photo to the stack. “Oh, and this is John. Oh, sweetheart.” You sighed as you slowly shook your head with a fond smile. “Bless his heart, that man couldn’t grow a beard to save his life.”

“He’s... a lot older than I expected.” Bucky said as he took the photo from your hands, delicately.

“Ten years senior.” You said with a nod as Steve excused himself softly to let Tony know you had the original will. “That was normal back then. I married him when I had just turned seventeen so we were together... like seven years before he passed.”

“Wow.” He breathed as he handed you back the photo.

“What else do we have? Confederate bonds. What’s this? Oh, gold. Could have used that. Oh, my jewelry...” The pair of you sat for another twenty minutes or so, going through old memories and things you had kept safe when John left. You were ecstatic to find the deed to the property along with his father’s will and a couple other documents related to his family.

“OK, I have to say this is blowing my mind a little bit.” Bucky said as you pulled out a pistol wrapped in an old t-shirt to make sure there was nothing left underneath it. “Like... this is your stuff. Not your relatives, yours. You actually touched these documents before today.”

“Gives being older than dinosaurs a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” You laughed as you started carefully putting everything back in the safe.

“And you own this land.” He said as he looked up at the massive, 2000 acre property in front of him.

“I do.” You said with a nod as you closed the door of the safe. “Legally and soon, officially.”

“Damn.” He said with a shake of his head. “Yea, we’re raising Anastasia here.”

“I’m absolutely OK with that, my love.” You said as you stood up and picked up the safe. “I just have to prove who I am to the US government after spending nearly one hundred years trying to avoid doing just that. That’s gunna be the real fun.”

Part 15

#Bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter wolf #winter wolf series

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repressionmd · 2 months ago

Note

3 7 and 15!! :DD i love question #3 bc it always tickles me to know what people hate, petty style

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

this is such an interesting question sfgjk because i actually read like. a lot of stuff 😭 and i guess i wouldn't necessarily say that i hate it but i do instantly switch off when like. piss kinks r involved i really don't get it i get the control element but 👋(>_<)

although i think i hate homophobic house i'll be so fr he would Not say that. i don't care i just don't see him digging up deadnames to dig at people with absolutely no other prongs to the attack ??? like there has to be some kind of reason with it idk + when people remove that in favour of "oh he's just being his regular brand of asshole" i rly don't like it

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

i can't believe you've made me do this 😭 but ok this snippet from this thing is supposed to be give-and-take:

"You would have come at any time, even if it was worse, even though it upsets you, because you like me." House knew it upset him? He still called? Wilson held every muscle in place. Stayed silent, held the eye contact. Held House's arm that he'd finished bandaging already but didn't want to let go of. Waited for the inevitable joke. House's eyes widened, shone with a new light. "You like me!" For one aching, fleeting second, Wilson thought House was about to kiss him, but Wilson jerked back, letting go. He ignored every instinct in his mind telling him to move in closer. He was intimately aware of the heat of House's thigh against his, the ghost of House's arm on his hand, the memory of House's head on his shoulder. "House. Shut up." House was high. He was drunk, he was exhausted and in pain. He didn't know what he was doing. They couldn't do this.

because there's just SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION!!! wilson in this fic has been pushing back his own memories to compartmentalise and take care of house - and his first reaction to "you like me" is skipping that bit and going Back to feeling like house called him because he doesn't care about wilson's emotions. the reality is ... complicated. the reality is house trusts wilson intimately, trusts him to do what needs to be done, and house doesn't know the extent of wilson's trauma. "even though it upsets you" isn't supposed to mean "i purposefully called you to trigger you", it's supposed to mean "im sorry i hurt myself because i know it freaks you out"

and then wilson realises that house is serious about the confession (!!!) but he can't Deal with That. he wants it he wants it so bad, i think house is realising his crush for the first time but wilson has been repressing his feelings for months if not longer. so he tries to convince himself its not real and runs away <3 made even more poignant by wilson having previously made the observation that house was 1. coming down from being high, 2. not that drunk, 3. probably has had a nap and 4. not in any more pain than he's used to. he's thinking clearly for once, and wilson can't.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

ough this is hard because 2 out of the 4 fics im thinking of (my 3 posted ones + kutner lives) are fix-it? i'd absolutely love to see the kutnerfic filmed though i think you could do so much with the opening sequence in that way that the show makes certain scenes have that air of delirium and panic. you could do so much with colour and lighting and sound and aughhh plus we could see more kutner!!! yay!!! also hilson are married in there. so that's always a bonus <3

#amethyst.txt #asks #ty dearly!!!!!#sorry for talking about the kutnerfic you have not seen i promise i will post it soon 😭#its just perfect for this idk. very cinematic i THINK shfjkfhfkf

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mackeydoodledoo · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 5: Pining

Pairing: Lamina x (Fem!Mentor)Reader

Summary: You've been living in 7 for a handful of months now. You continue to help Lamina get through those nights of her PTSD moments. But your love for Lamina continues growing, as does her love for you. But, how long can two people pine for each other?

Warnings: Mutual Pining, Social Anxiety, Swearing, Lamina's PTSD

Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italics = Flashback

Theme: Sometimes - Goldmund

A/n: I didn't realize that I would be making this series longer than I expected. But, yay :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Lamina's Fathers' POV* When you opened your eyes, you were surprised at how much sleep you had gotten...

Did Lamina have a nightmare last night?

You walk across the hall and nearly jump out of your pajamas... Your daughter... In the arms of Y/n... You were about to wake them up to have them explain to you what was going on.

But, you noted how they still had their pajamas on. And you could tell how Lamina had a chunk of Y/n's shirt bunched in her hand.

You decided to leave it be.

*Lamina's POV* You open your eyes. For the first time you didn't wake up in the middle of the night; screaming and crying. You felt well rested, you look up at Y/n; still fast asleep. You prop your elbow up and look down at her.

Watching her chest rise and fall...

Taking in her features...

Do all... Capitol citizens look as gorgeous as she does?...

She stirs...

"Mmmm," She groans, "Hey."

She smiles.

"Hey," You smile back, "You sleep okay?"

She nods, "Did you?"

You nod, "For the first time in a very long time."

"Good," She sighs into a smile

The sounds of the birds from the other side of the window pane filled the silence of the room. You watch as her head shifts from looking up at the ceiling, and over to you.

"Thank you for staying with me," You say

"Always," She replies

+*+

The both of you change out of your pajamas and begin heading into the market to bring some food home for the week.

"I wish your ma could visit us and bring her famous cooking with her," You say, scouring the food

"you know I can make them right?" Y/n asks, placing a few items into the basket, "I won't be able to replicate it to the bone. But, she taught me every one of her recipes. No recipe had ever been forgotten."

"Aaaand you're telling me this now?" You stand, turning to face Y/n

"You never asked," She leans towards your face, smirking

"Point taken," You smile

Can I kiss you?...

But, before your body told itself to lean forward to make the move, Y/n moves onto the next business.

Damnit...

"Lamina?" A familiar, but not voice calls your name

You turn towards the direction of that voice.

"Lamina! I can't believe it's you!" The familiar boy walks up to you and hugs you

"A-Acacius?!" You push him away from you, looking up at him

You awkwardly smile as he composes himself. But then his direction turns to Y/n.

"Lamina, who's this?" He points to her

*Y/n's POV* "Y/n Y/l/n," You awkwardly wave

"Huh," He says, but his attention draws itself back to Lamina, "What are your plans tonight?"

"Well, I was going to go off and go to the spot with Y/n and-"

"Then why don't you and I go?" Acacius asks, "Just like old times?"

Your heart sank...

'Just like old times'?... Damn maybe I'm not so special after all...

"I-I actually would like to bring Y/n and only-"

"It's fine... Lamina," You force yourself to say, "I'll... Meet you back at the house."

You turn your back to her; knowing her eyes burning your back as you make your way out of the market and back to the house.

+*+

Lamina's father stacks logs of wood and turns his head as he hears your footsteps.

"Hey Y/n! Wh-where's Lamina?" He asks

"Some.. Guy from Lamina's younger days randomly ran right into her and inserted himself into our plans after our trip to the market," You explain, "So, I didn't want to seem rude so I let Lamina off."

"Acacius," He immediately says, "He was the one helping me out with Aster here when Lamina was dragged off for the games last year... But, hadn't come back since she came home."

"I see," You sigh, "Well, I'm back... So.... How about I cook tonight? Been taught by the Capitol Academy's best, and so happened to be the head chef."

"Give it your best shot kiddo," He motions for you to head inside

*Lamina's POV* The both of you meticulously climb the tree, finding that specific branch that you and Y/n sat upon...

"You've gotten better since we've done this last," Acacius pants, "Maybe I should get on your exercise routine."

He chuckles. You awkwardly chuckle.

You didn't know what to say to initiate a conversation... You haven't seen him in a long time.

"What were the games like?" He asks

You tense up... Your awkward smile drops into a frown.

"Whoa... Too sensitive?" He asks, "I'm sorry."

He gently places his hand over yours, which made you look down at it.

"I'm glad you were the one to come home," He confesses

Your head shoots up back at him, eyes slightly narrowed at him...

+*+

When you arrived back home, through the windows were either dark or simply lit.

Is everyone asleep already?

You walk up to the front door, attempting to (but failing) to open the door.

"Hey pop," You call out to him

"Hey kiddo, how was your reunion with Acacius?" He asks

"It was... Fine," You force yourself to say

"Just 'fine'?" He asks

"It was awkward," You confess, "I... I don't know how to feel about it. It all just... Happened so fast."

Your eyes scan the room for Y/n.

"Where's Y/n?" You ask

"Not sure," He replies, "But, there's something for you keeping warm on the stove. She made sure that I wouldn't touch it. Said it was specifically for you."

Y/n cooked?... And I missed that?!

You immediately dart into the kitchen and see a covered pot. You open it and gasp...

The dish... She made my first night in the capitol zoo...

You grab the nearest utensil and take a spoonful of the meal...

Just like trying it for the first time, it hit you all at once....

You take another bite...

Then another... Tears streamed down your face as you savor the taste... Reminiscing the time back in that zoo.

And another...

Until you found yourself unable to finish it...

You wrap the rest of the meal and go upstairs; hoping to find Y/n... Making your way into the spare bedroom...

"Y/n?" You call out to her

No response..

But you assumed that she was already asleep... You don't attempt pry at her and retreat back into your own room.

+*+

You woke up with a scream... You waited for Y/n to rush through the door... But, it took her longer than usual to reach your door.

"The usual?" She asks

You nod.

She sighs and makes her way across your room and into your bed. You fit yourself between her arms and take a few deep breaths before falling asleep...

+*+

When you wake up the following morning, Y/n was already out of bed... You get yourself dressed and meet your pa downstairs.

"Mornin' kiddo," Your pa greets you

"Hi pa," You sigh, "Where's Y/n?"

"Already left for the market," He says, "Nearly used all of our ingredients, so she decided to head out to get us more."

I missed her cooking again?!...

+*+

You walk to the market, hoping to catch Y/n and help her finish shopping to finally watch her cook her ma's famous meals.

"Lamina!" Acacius' voice calls out to you

However, you don't register his voice and make your way to Y/n who was across the way. However, before you could even take two steps, you felt a hand gently grasp yours.

"Lamina," Acacius smiles, "There's something I want to show you."

"Acacius, I'm actually in the middle of something," You tug at your wrist

He reluctantly lets go and you beeline it for Y/n.

*Y/n's POV* As you were trying to find some decent spices, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your midsection. You turn your head and see Lamina burying her head against your shoulder.

"Hey," You coo, turning to her, "What's the matter?"

"I've missed you," She tells you, "You headed here without me..."

"I... I didn't want you to worry about anything," You say

"Well, considering I missed out on watching you cook twice I would say I'm pretty worried," She says

You chuckle as she does.

"Tell you what, since you're already here, do you want to help me finish shopping and we'll cook together?" You offer

She instantly nods as she wraps her arms around your free one and practically drags you.

+*+

Lamina practically pushes you into the kitchen and immediately helps you set up.

"Whoa whoa Lamina, you can slow down," You chuckle, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, well, like I said, after missing out on you cooking TWICE I'm not about to miss it again!" She states

"Well, plot twist," you hold your hand out towards her

You flip the stove on with your free hand.

Lamina takes your hand.

"You're helping me," You smile

You place a pan on the burner as it begins to heat up. You gently pull Lamina into you; one hand on her hip and the other still holding one of her hands.

However, you hear her father clears his throat. Almost immediately you take a step back from Lamina, clearing your own throat and proceed back into the kitchen; where you began prepping everything.

*Lamina's POV* The aroma of the spices filled the room with an exquisite smell. You have never been in a room with an acquired smell before. Your father went out with Aster; leaving the two of you in the house alone. Y/n had told you that you help all that you could and that she could take care of the rest.

However, you sit at the dining room table; bored out of your mind. You stand from the chair and slowly make your way towards her.

You wrap your arms around her midsection as you rest your chin on her shoulder.

"Sorry, I'm bored," You say, sighing

"That's fine, wanna try some?" She holds up a spoonful of the food

You nod, as you open your mouth.

Different acquired tastes hit your tongue. You melt into Y/n as you savor each new taste.

"I take it that you like it?" She asks, smiling

You nod, "The best thing I've had, among other meals you've cooked."

You sweep yourself under her arm and settle yourself between her arms.

"You want to help me finish this up?" She asks

You nod.

"Alright, so you're just going to give this just one swirl, and let it simmer," She explains

She takes one hand and has you hold the pan by its handle, and the other lifting it to the spoon in the pot. You give it one stir and let it begin to settle. As you take a step back, you bump right into her chest, making you jump and turn to face her.

"Y/n.." You sigh

Kiss her...

Before you could even begin to lean towards Y/n, the both of you hear the door open and immediately step away from one another.

"Hey kiddo," Your pa makes his presence known

"Hi dad," You clear your throat

"Hey Lamina," Acacius' voice echoes through the house

"Hi... Acacius..." You say, looking down at the floor

Y/n comes up beside you. Gently placing her hand on the small of your back.

"Oh, was I interrupting something?" He asks

*Y/n's POV* Yes... You are...

"Nope, not at all," You force yourself to say, "I'll be outside..."

You make your way outside...

*Lamina's POV* You reluctantly watch as Y/n takes her leave, leaving you with Acacius...

Which was the last thing you wanted.

"Come sit kids," Your pa says

You reluctantly follow Acacius and sit next to your pa, as Acacius sits intentionally next to you...

"So what have you been up to lately Acacius?" Your pa asks him

"I'm still working with my pa at the lumber yard," He answers, "Ma's still been at home with our little sister."

As you watch the two talk, your eyes drift to the window; Y/n sitting on one of the chairs out on the porch...

Screw this...

"I'm going to join Y/n outside," You stand from the seat

Before Acacias could even protest, you briskly made your way out of the house and onto the porch.

"Hey," Y/n says

"Hey..." You sit next to her

"Thought you were enjoying your time in the house with your dad and Acacius?" She asks, "No way. He came over unannounced and I just... Would like to be around you."

You scoot closer to Y/n, resting your head on her shoulder. You felt her head sit against yours.

"You didn't tell Acacius you were from the capitol... Right?" You ask

"Nope. Only gave him my name before he shifted his attention back to you," Y/n answers, "He's not fond of capitol?"

"Yeah," You reply

"I see," She sighs, "Well, I don't care. I really only care about you... And... What you think of me..."

"What I think?" You lift your head off of her shoulder to look at you

She nods.

"You're amazing," Was the first thing that came to your mind, "You go above and beyond not only for me, but for my family too."

you could see the blush appear on her face.

"What are you two talking about?" Acacius' voice scares the both of you

"Nothing," You clear your throat

"You two going to go to the Hoedown tonight?" Your pa asks

Chapter 6

#lamina tbosas #lamina x reader #lamina #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #female reader #district 7 #tbosas

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eldest-of-katts · 2 years ago

Text

My comic for the technoblade gift exchange!

Yay! I finished it!

I didn’t mean for it to be eight pages, but I guess that’s how it turned out lol.

@technoblade-gift-exchange and @totallynotbat my giftee!

Unseen dialogue:

Hey, pig-me! You have GOT to teach me how to use a sword.

I thought you knew that already, you were the one piloting me around the whole time I used it.

Yeah, but clicking is WAY different from actually fighting with one. And besides, I just wanna look cool!

transcript and image IDs under the cut

Image 1: A comic page with two panels separated by a diagonal line. The top panel shows Techno’s cabin at night illuminated by the fire inside, his beacon, and the northern lights. The second panel shows Techno sitting inside and reading.

Image 2: Similar comic page. Top panel shows a door with phil’s hat hung up on a hook next to it. There is an impact bubble with the words “KNOCK KNOCK” inside. The bottom panel has the door open to show piglin dsmp!techno welcoming CC! Techno into the house with the stars visible from the door. Dialogue reads: CC!- “Halloooo... great to see you” DSMP!- “Hey, man. C’mon in”

Image 3: cc!Techno smiles at the viewer, he says “A LOT has changed since we last, Um, talked. The bottom panel shows Techno’s wheelchair set up in front of his computer, which is on a folding desk. He says “We got a new gaming setup.”

Image 4: This page is predominantly green and blue. The top panel shows CC! techno meeting up with Wilbur in his garden, and a dotted line shows that they’re six feet apart. CC!Techno says, “We met up with friends,” The bottom panel shows Techno’s youtube channel at 15million subs, “We payed for my siblings to go to college. We more than reached 10mil. Made Merch too,”

Image 5: CC!Techno sits turned away from the camera, clenching his fist. he says, “and... I Died.” The bottom panel shows C!Techno looking shocked and sad.

Image 6: C!Techno says, “I won’t pretend to know what death is like,” He is viewed in profile from the shoulders up, looking down. “But,” he says, “I HAVE been looking for a buddy,” He faces the camera, one eyebrow lifted in challenge with a half-smile on his face, “If you’re up for the challenge.”

Image 7: CC!Techno rolls up one sleeve to strike the one-arm-curled flex pose, he says “I’m MORE than ready.” The next panel is split into three. In the first, C!Techno puts on his cloak, in the second, CC!Techno puts on his merch hoodie, and in the third, they clasp their hands saying, “Let’s go”

Image 8: The entire page is black and red, not split into panels. The silhouettes of Techno and Techno are red on a black background and above them there is a white text bubble reading, “ON ANOTHER ADVENTURE”

All pages have the artist’s watermark, “EldestKatt 2023″ in the bottom right corner.

#technoblade #technoblade fanart #cc!techno #c!techno #death cw #death mention #technoblade gift exchange #gift exchange #my art #dsmp #mcyt #comic panels #comic #digitalart #digital #art #artists on tumblr #digital art

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stoopid-noah · 1 year ago

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Watching The Crowded Room and going in completely blind..

Haven't seen a trailer, no idea what it's even about lol

Here are my thoughts as I move along..

After watching Ep 1, I think:

Danny and his brother where SAed as children, maybe by the stepdad.

Ariana is a sex worker?

His brother either died due to abuse or offed himself because of it.

Ep 2:

Ariana was sexually abused too, I think.

Danny might have Multiple personalities and seems to be unaware about it.

Some charracters might actually be part of his system?

Is the "ghost house" actually his mindspace?

Ep 3:

Yup, multiple personalities!

Yitzhak is definitely one of them!

Jonny probably too & if he is, so must Mike.

Ariana might be aswell, maybe she's his sexual protector & SA trauma holder.

Did he ever have a twin brother, or was he also part of the system?

I love Yitzhak, best protected ever!!

I think Rya, the psychiatrist might suspect him having DiD, but isn't sure yet & the police has no idea.

But how did eye witnesses see Ariana?!

Ep 4:

I think Jack is also part of Danny's system.

Jack seems to be a protector aswell.

I can't tell if his brother was another alter or his actual brother?

All the drawings in his (burned) sketchbook might be of alters.

Oooooo shits 'bout to go down!!

Ep 5:

Gee, straight to the intro, no little scene before that? Is that a good sign or a bad one?

I really hope his mother didn't know what her children where going through.

I love Mario, he's cool!

I feel so sorry for his mom (Candy?) too, she just wanted the best for her baby.. :(

I think Adam was his first protector & trauma holder, not his actual brother.

Ep 6:

I hate how the police officer is talking about poor Danny. :(

I hate the psychiatrists son, he's a brat and a nuisance lol

Hell yeah Jonny, get right outa those cuffs!!

God, I love this woman.. she's an amazing doctor and I NEED her to succeed!!

Why do I kinda like his lawyer?! He's such an asshole lmao

Oh, Danny.. My poor baby.. He's so scared :(

Ep 7:

Yayy, Yitzhak is back!!

Jack, Jonny, Mike, Yitzhak and Ariana confirmed alters, yay!!

Goddam Jonny... At least try to keep it together man >:(

These "psychologists" are so insufferable.. and so is the judge..

I love Yitzhak so much.. please don't let him be gone gone AAaAaa <3

Oh god.. please help him, poor puppy boy :(

Ep 8:

GET OFF MY SVREEN YOU FUCKIN PEDOPHILE PIG PIECE OF SHIT!!

I hope Marlin rots in hell, fucking piece of shit.

I love the directive so much!!

Candy, how could you? How could she cover for that piece of shit?

Oh, I feel bad for Arianas boyfriend.. and for Ariana :(

Why should they try to "get rid of the alters"?? I know that this plays in a different time, but it's so frustrating that the alters aren't really seen as whole ass human beings by the professionals.. :(

Jerome is so sweet and kind, I cant- I want them to be friends forever AAaAaa

If that boy doesn't get the help he needs, I'm going to scream...

Ep 9:

I hate him. I hate Marlin so much.. why do I have to look at him right now?!

How can candy live with herself, protecting this pig????

I hope she fucking turns around and stands up for Danny in the end :(

Stan is such a good guy, I hope he's a great lawyer too.

I hate it.. D.I.D. is real for fucks sake.

The trial just started and I'm already crying..

I'm starting to hate candy, she's acting like a real bitch right now, ngl..

FUCK YEAH CANDY!! GO SAVE YOUR FUCKING SON!!!

Aaand she went home.. goddamn it..

Yay Jerome is back!!

Goddamn.. she's a really good psychologist.

I swear to God Candy, if you mess up again I'm going to scream.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Danny, baby.. no :(

How dare you end the episode like that?!

Ep 10:

Jesus Christ, please don't let my baby die.

God damnit Jack..

I hate his smug fucking grin.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him..

Oh, If Danny can come back, so could Yitzhak, right? I miss him. :(

"Adam is me" I'm fucking crying again wtf..

I'm on the edge of me seat, please don't jail this boy!!

OH THANK GOD!!!

I can't stop crying aaaaa

If Danny can forgive Candy, I guess I should too.. but I don't wanna >:(

He looks so cute, with all the paint on his shirt. <3

Don't try and make me feel sympathy for Candy.

Hell yeah, no forgiveness for Candy!!!!

I love the friendship of Danny and Rya, they have such great chemistry!

Last thoughts, after doing some research:

They handled this whole theme so respectfully and good!

Tom also did such an amazing job portraying his roles, it's amazing!!

Especially considering that this series and the movie "Split" where apparently based on the same case.. I fucking hated how DiD was portrayed in Split.. Like it's something to fear. Like it makes people violent. And as something fucking supernatural.. I fucking hated that.. But "The Crowded Room" is so honest and respectful.. It's beautiful!

#the crowded room #tom holland #my thoughts while watching #the crowded room spoilers #danny sullivan

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underworld-park-offical · 5 months ago

Note

*Runs over and tugs arm*

Chicken sandwich-

*Gremlin runs away*

yay!!! safe food!!! i love chicken sandwhiches, I had one when I went to the Virgin Islands last summer and I think it changed me forever. Now when I go to a place that sells chicken product I aim for the chicken sandwich and I become a youtube food critic and rate them, lemme give you the score. Pls don't come after me btw these are just my opinion, feel free to share yours!

Sun and Sea bar and grill (The first one I ever had, its a sandwich with crispy marinated chicken that's marinated in pickle juice, then fried with cheddar cheese on top and pickles on the bottom and MAN that was a heavenly experience) (I knew it was pickle juice because my dad and I recreated it and we got it right first try)

2.Popeyes (It was a similar thing to what I ordered above and my GOD they make their chicken right. Absolutely delicious)

3. Wendys (Geniuenly really good! Tho they messed it up once and I haven't recovered)

4. Doo-Wop Diner (Another board walk location. They didn't have my usual safe food there HOWEVER my mom suggested it once and I've been asking to go there ever since!)

5. Chickfila (Peanut oil makes chicken really good man...)

6. Boardwalk (I dont remember the place but we went to a sit down restaurant on the boardwalk and my GOD was that chicken delicious. The sandwich fell apart but it was SOOOOOO WORTH IT)

7. Applebees (I had it at a friends birthday dinner and DUDE really good! It is better if you eat in though cuz delivery makes it soggy somehow)

8. Hollywood diner (They used to have nachos which was my go to everytime I went, but now they don't so I got their chicken sandwich. Really tasty! Just have to order the sauce on the side)

9. Harrison House (We ordered this through a loophole, which I was kinda like 'ayo? you can do that?' Chicken was kinda dry but it was still REALLY FREAKIN GOOD)

10. Burger King (I didn't even know burger king had a chicken sandwich! So I was kinda excited... until I ate it. I ate the whole thing, but I wouldn't actively search for it again)

11. Margaritaville (To start, I wasn't sure what to expect when I got my safe food at a new place, but I realized it was grilled chicken. Again, ate the whole thing, but I wouldn't have it again. They had BOMB ASS chilli nachos tho made with BEER CHEESE. GOD THAT WAS SO HUYDGUIYDGHD I LOVE NACHOS MAN)

feel free to leave your chicken sandwhich/general food opinions in the comments

#craigfluencer #hellpark #craig tucker #southpark #sp #south park edits #south park #mod noah post #mod noah #underworld park

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tea-stained-notes · 12 days ago

Text

Steve Rogers x OFC - Waiting On a Miracle, Chapter 8

After catching an infamous serial killer in the act, Julie Castillo is in line for the witness protection program. She is sent to a temporary safe house with U.S. Marshal Steve Rogers to protect her. Both of them scarred by trauma and tragedy, they find solace in each other. But how far will they dare to go?

Is this the quickest update ever on this story? Gee, might even actually finish this before Christmas 😅

Series warnings: violence, death, angst, trauma, smut

Chapter warnings: anxiety, trauma

Chapter word count: ~2800

Song(s) referenced: -

When I woke the bed was cold and empty. He hadn't slept here. Maybe hadn't slept all. Tension immediately returned to my well-rested body. I pressed my eyes shut and turned into the pillow to inhale the faint remnants of his scent. But seconds later I practically jumped out of bed, overwhelmed by the hurricane of emotions whirling in my chest. With trembling fingers I cracked the window open and deeply inhaled the crisp November air. It did little to soothe my anxiety. I wished desperately that we could be normal. That I could pick his discarded shirt up off the floor, slip it on and join him in the kitchen to steal a kiss at the stove. But his clothes were gone, not a trace of his presence, of the absolute wonder last night had been. So I dressed in my leggings and woolen sweater instead. Voices were drifting down the hallway when I opened my door and I followed them, my heart sinking. Then it dropped into my stomach like a rock. Steve was not just awake and clad in his sleek Marshal attire, his bags also stood packed by the door. Panic rose in my throat. No. Not yet, not today. “Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Natasha stepped into my vision, giving me a casual wave and a strangely wistful smile. “Stevie over here doesn't seem too happy about it, but I'm hoping you are: They've caught Parker. And everyone's certain he didn't have any lackeys, so you're safe to return home. Yay for civilization.” She made a weak attempt at jazz hands, then lowered them at the expression on my face. My eyes flew to Steve but his were fixed on the kitchen counter, dark shadows beneath them. “Wow,” I managed to press out. “I know you guys have been having a pretty cozy time here. So I thought we could all have a nice farewell breakfast before getting on the road. Rogers and I are gonna get cracking on that while you pack, okay?” I needed a moment before I could croak out a reply. “Yeah. Sounds great. Thanks, Nat.” Steve still wouldn't meet my eye, so I mechanically turned on my heels and stumbled back to my room.

When I slumped into a chair twenty minutes later, I couldn’t help staring at Steve. He looked so different. Almost foreign. His slicked-back hair, clean-shaven jaw, the sharp lines of his leather jacket. I had grown so used to his warm softness that it had overwritten the first impression from a month ago. Seeing him morph back into his professional self overnight was jarring. But it had the exact effect he had apparently aimed for: He seemed nothing like the man I had given my body and soul to just hours ago. “Help yourself,” he mumbled at no one in particular. “Don’t mind if I do!” Natasha shoveled a waffle, scrambled eggs and fruit onto her plate. I took some eggs and toast, just to push them around aimlessly. “So, Julie, what are you looking forward to the most when you get back home? Privacy? Take-out? Your phone?” Her grin would have been infectious on any other day. I managed a weak smile. “Seeing my friends, actually. I’ve missed them more than I had imagined.” “That’s good. We all need people.” Her eyes flicked to Steve but he was busy crushing a waffle into crumbs. “What about you?” I asked. “Huh?” His gaze shot up. “Oh… Nothing in particular.” “Really?” Natasha pressed. “City boy was perfectly content in the middle of nowhere?” “Well, I am looking forward to not being teased by you, Romanoff.” She just laughed. “You’re gonna miss me, you always do.” Breakfast went on like that and somewhere along the way I managed to get down a couple of bites. Steve ate nothing at all.

“Right then, you guys go take off. I’ll do a last check and wait for the cleaner.” “Oh, okay. Thank you.” Natasha winked at me. “It’s just so that I get so snatch all the left-over food. I saw Steve’s famous Bami goreng in the fridge — can’t wait for that.” We glanced over at him loading our luggage into the trunk. “Thanks for everything, Nat,” I said with my first earnest smile of that day. “You’ve been great.” “Bye, Julie. It’s been a pleasure.” She gave me a brief but forceful hug and whispered into my ear. “Don't give up too easily.” I searched her eyes for an explanation when she pulled back. But she just smiled and gently pushed me towards the car. “Stevie? A word?” He sighed, then walked up to her while I got into the car. The sweet expression on her face vanished immediately. She spoke intently, holding onto his arms as if to shake him. His responses were monosyllabic at best and eventually she just exhaled in frustration before embracing him. I tried to burn the image of the cabin into my brain as Steve approached the car. Despite the awful sensation in my stomach I never wanted to forget this place and all the memories inside its walls. I flinched when he ripped the door open. “Have a safe trip, kids!” Natasha called out. “You, too.” Steve raised a hand while folding himself into the driver's seat. She waved us off as we backed down the driveway. The silence in the car coated us like concrete. I glanced over at him but his eyes were firmly on the road. After a few minutes I couldn’t bear it anymore. “Can we talk about last—“ “I don't think that's a good idea,” he cut me off. My features slipped. What on earth had happened to the man I had grown so intimately acquainted with? “Well, I think it is. We can't ignore everything between us just because we had to leave the cabin.” “Julie…” All of a sudden he sounded endlessly exhausted and my heart contracted in pain. I inched my hand closer to his one resting on his thigh. If only we could find our connection again. But before I could reach him he pulled away. I burrowed my teeth in my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. A long moment passed before I dared to speak again. “Can we please stop by my dad's?” “We really don’t have the t—“ “Don't. Don't refuse to do this one thing for me.” Tears were pricking at my eyes and I tried to blink them away while staring at the road stretching before us. “I just really need to see my dad. Please.” I hated my voice for breaking so pathetically but it did do the trick. Steve swallowed audibly, then nodded. “One hour. That's all I can give you.” “Okay.” He punched the address into the GPS without another word from me, my entire file seemingly still stored in his memory. How could a person care so much and yet be so careless with another’s heart?

My dad ripped open the front door before I had fully exited the car. “Julie! Cariño, what are you doing here? What happened?” I couldn’t help the tears forming in my eyes once more. When had I last seen him? Christmas? What had he ever done to deserve me avoiding him just because I never stopped searching for accusation in his face whenever he looked at me? I ran up to him and threw myself into the most familiar arms in the world. “Hi, papi,” I sniffed into his cardigan. He held me tightly, rubbing his hands over my back. “I’ve been so worried, I haven’t heard from you in a month.” “I know, I’m sorry.” Eventually he loosened our embrace to hold me at arm’s length and inspect me in detail. “You look sad, mija. And you’ve changed your hair.” “Yeah. You never liked the blond, I know.” He shrugged. “I just didn’t feel that it was really you.” Then he finally looked at Steve, lips stretching into a surprised smile. “Who’s your friend?” I inhaled deeply. “That’s a long story.” “Steven Rogers.” He walked up to shake my father’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” “I’m sure the pleasure’s all mine, son.” My heart ached at their greeting. In a different version of this story I would be beaming up at Steve, snuggled into his side and endlessly happy to introduce him to the other most important man in my life. “Can you wait out here, please?” He frowned. “You're still under my protection.” “Parker is behind bars.” “Still.” There was something behind his firm professionalism. A silent plea in his eyes that made me bite my tongue. “Fine. You can wait in the living room.” “Julie, don’t be rude,” my dad chimed in, confusion etched into his features. “Of course he can—“ “We need to talk, papá. Just the two of us.”

“Wow.” My father leaned back in his chair. “God, I can’t believe this is what you’ve been dealing with the past few weeks.” “Yeah. I’m gonna need a while to process when I get home.” “Cariño, I’m so sorry that I didn’t know—“ “Don’t be silly, papi. You had no way of knowing.” “But you shouldn’t have had to carry that burden all by yourself…” His eyes started welling up as he reached for my hands and my stomach clenched painfully. “I didn’t. Steve was there.” “Right. Of course. Did he take good care of you?” Yes. He was perfect. Until he built an impenetrable fortress around his heart. “Julie?” Steve cleared his throat behind me. “I’m afraid we have to go. They’re expecting us at the station.” He set down the glass of water my father had forced upon him. Rafael Castillo, the most gracious host I knew, had been extremely anxious at the lack of hospitality he had been allowed to show his guest. So he had provided him with refreshments, magazines, the TV remote and the most comfortable chair in the room before finally joining me at the kitchen table. “Two minutes. Please.” His gaze softened infinitesimally. “I’ll wait in the hallway.” My father caught my gaze when Steve had left again. “I can see that he did.” “What?” “Take good care of you.” I smiled ruefully. “That’s another long story.” “Is he part of the reason you’ve changed, mija? You seem different.” My hand found his and squeezed tightly. “Will you come visit me soon? It’s been way too long. And I’d really… I’d really like to talk about everything. About mamá.” His brows shot up in surprise, then melted into the most gentle expression. “Of course, amor. I’d love to.” He reluctantly led me outside, pushing some snacks and a thermos of tea into my arms. Then he shook Steve’s hand again, this time amicably clutching his arm as well. “Get her home safely, son.” “I will, sir. Thank you for the hospitality.” “The least I could do for the man who’s been looking after my daughter.” They exchanged a smile before Steve got in the car. My father enveloped me in a hug. “Estoy muy orgulloso de ti, Julie. Y tu madre también lo está.” I held him even closer. “Gracias, papi.”

The music from the car speakers didn’t gloss over the quiet tension once more filling the car. Neither of us could muster up the energy to engage in small talk. And I still had no idea how to bridge the chasm between us. When we finally pulled up to the station, relief mingled with the ache in my chest. Yet the idea of leaving his side was more unfathomable than ever. Suddenly his fingers touched my arm, sending a spark of electricity straight to my heart. “Julie, you didn’t… You didn’t bring up what happened between us to your dad, right?” I stared at him in disbelief. “Yeah, sure, after everything I’ve been through, that was the first thing that came up. And since things are so easy between us I told him we’d get married, too.” Steve swallowed thickly, drawing back his hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just… It was obviously highly unprofessional and—“ “I won’t tell anyone,” I said, biting back my pain when I saw the misery in his eyes. “You won’t lose your job because of me.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Detectives Carter and Okamoto greeted us, then led me into their office for a debrief and another stack of paperwork. I anxiously looked back at Steve but he gave me a reassuring nod. “I’ll be right outside.” And miraculously he was really waiting for me when I stepped back into the hall an hour later. He looked even wearier, his face pale and a few strands of hair out of place. “Ready to go?” “Are you taking me home?” “Yeah.” “It’s just a fifteen minute walk.” For the first time that day he let his eyes linger one mine. “I know.”

Once out on the sidewalk, we fell into step with each other, the city buzzing around us. “God, it’s loud here,” he murmured. “We’ll get used to it again.” “Hmm.” Dusk fell while the minutes passed between us. “Will you come to the trial?” “I’ll probably be on another assignment.” “Oh. Right.” When we finally stopped in front of my building, Steve handed me the bag he had been carrying for me, then inspected the façade with curiosity, as if committing it to memory. But by the time he turned to me he had schooled his features back into careful composure. “Well then.” A light drizzle set in and I instinctively pulled him under the awning with me. Suddenly he was so close I couldn’t breathe, images from the previous night flooding my mind. “So, how can I contact you?” “You can’t.” My stomach dropped. “What?” “I’ve told you—“ “I understand, you need some time to work through this. But you can’t just cut me off, not after everything. Not after last night.“ He sighed deeply. “This wasn’t the last time I had to vanish off the grid for weeks or months at a time. I’d just keep you waiting and worrying. It's not fair to condemn anyone to a life like that. So I don’t really stay in touch with people.” “And I’m just… people?” “Julie…” He looked at me for a long time, a sudden storm of emotions flickering across his features. “You know that I can't.” “All I know is that you are self-sacrificing to a fault. I know that you feel like you have to make up for past mistakes but they weren't your mistakes. Your friends, your sister — they didn't die because of you. I'm not saying you should forget them, but you can't be haunted by their ghosts forever. Wouldn't they want you to be happy instead of giving up your life for strangers?” Both our eyes had filled with tears and when I gently cupped his face in my palm, he leaned into it with a soft exhale. “There are so many ways to help people without losing yourself. We can figure this out together. Please, Steve. I—“ “Don't.” I knew he could see them in my pleading gaze. Those three words that had been weighing heavy on my tongue. And I needed him to hear them, even if he didn't want to. “I love you.” He sucked in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, a deep frown forming on his forehead. Then his fingers closed around my wrist to pull my hand away. My body turned to ice. “You don’t mean that.” “Steve—” “What you and I had was… intense. But it wasn’t—,” he swallowed heavily, gaze glued to the ground, “love.” The word came out strange, half-broken, tinged with a disdain that made my tears spill over. He took a step back and it felt like he was ripping out my insides in the process. This couldn’t be happening. I had known it would be difficult, but this? This was absurd. “You know how it is,” he mumbled, “being cooped up together in close quarters, with you in such a fragile state after the murder—“ “Don’t you dare!” My hurt morphed into rage within a split-second. “Don’t you fucking dare pretend I’m a hysterical, weak damsel in distress who can’t distinguish between genuine connection and some kind of reversed Stockholm syndrome.” “Jul—” “You kissed me!” I exclaimed. “You can try to fool yourself all you like, but whatever you want to call it, you felt something, too. That’s why you came to my room, why you couldn’t hold back any longer. You can’t possibly claim that last night was just physical, that everything we’ve shared these past few weeks has meant nothing to you.” Steve had once more slipped on a mask of neutrality, not betraying even a flicker of emotion. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Take care of yourself, Julie. And try to forget all of this. Please.” The world was spinning around me. “No. Don’t leave, not like this.” He turned around, hiked up the collar of his jacket and started walking. And all I could do was stare after his tall figure, a dark silhouette against the lights of Washington Heights.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

MASTERLIST

Tag List: @multifanworld @peguem-o-pombo-agora @cvanstagram @yslvtre @wandasrogers @littleredone88 @before-we-get-started @sophham @missaprilt23 @chrissusmissus @dvmb-whxre @daddydraco0 @quicksilversthings @thechoosenonecreator @rosellia-hudsons @lokirogersgirl @nekoannie-chan @readawaythereality2 @yal1d @hyperfixationhovel

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #soft steve rogers #broadway #musical theatre #musical theater

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meet-me-in-the-pouringrain · 2 years ago

Text

The Phoenix and The Rocket

Final Chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Emily Prentiss, at the insistent of her therapist, signs up for a trauma ‘dumping’ site. She never expected that her Dump would connect her back to her old boss and the man she’s been in love with for over ten years.

Also the man she’s absolutely furious at for leaving

This is it y’all thank you for engaging and indulging me ❤️ and of course, thank you to @lonelychicagos for the prompt in the first place.

Read the final chapter below the cut :)

JJ instantly smirks the second Emily walks through the doors. Tara snickers behind her coffee cup.

"Yay" JJ cheers, shaking her fists. "You got laid!"

Emily blanks. "I-What." She stammers. She came in fully prepared to let them all have it for sending her on a needless errand but JJ catches her extremely off guard.

"So who's the guy?" Tara nudges her. "Or girl." She adds as an afterthought.

Dave looks smug as he walks up before Prentiss could reply. Luke, Matt and Spencer are with him, the latter already having the case file, and they're looking at their boss with a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. Emily glances over the faces of the team, wondering how exactly she's gonna tell them that not only has she found their old boss but also fucked him two hours ago, and rolls her eyes.

"Allora come sta?" (So, How is he?) Dave asks, switching to Italian. His demeanour is all smug and giddy.

Emily narrows her eyes while the rest of them look between them like they're watching a tennis match. "Sai?" (You Know?)

"Sí" Dave puts a hand on her shoulder. "Chi pensi che gli abbia dato il tuo numero?" (Who do you think gave him your number?)

Emily tries to be angry but her face gives her away when she smiles and bows her head. "Thank you" She says in return. The team is all waiting eagerly for the gossip and left severely disappointed when she orders them to the conference room.

Aaron fairs no better from the questions when he walks into his new house and finds his son standing at the door. Jack exclaims at the sight of him, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Where have you been?" Jack huffs.

Aaron smirks in amusement. "Uh, I'm the dad here." He tells him, walking off into the house. "Non of your business" He calls over his shoulder before whistling a tune to himself.

Jack watches him go with a face on him, confused. Then realisation settles in.

"Oh gross" He yells, running off. "Dad you could've just said you were with Emily. God." He hollers, running away.

His father laughs at his disgust, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl and settles down, casting his mind to what Emily might be doing right now.

"Who is it? Who is it? Who is it?" Penelope repeats incessantly through the laptop as the Jet zooms in the air. Emily just glares at the Laptop without saying a word. "Rossi, who is it?" Penelope changes her tune, turning to the man.

Dave smirks at Emily, enough to set her on edge, and she shakes her head minutely at him. Thankfully, he listens for once. "Sorry Garcia, I am not at liberty to say."

The girls groan while the boys sigh in relief. It's one thing hearing about the sex lives of the age female team members but your boss too? No thank you.

After the case, they go out for coffee and they talk. Emily tells him everything he's missed with the team, including how Derek's expecting another kid with Savannah and how Spencer got arrested and she grills him on how the hell he would have navigated that. Aaron tells her everything about Jack and their life in Colorado, wincing a little when some of the harder bits came up.

It was essentially the culmination of everything they spoke about online, sans Emily's disguised stories and white lies and Aaron's evasiveness about how the hell he got in those situations.

They're on the same page when one of them mentions that they're done dancing around, that they want this. They move fast, as much as they can when one of them is jetting off over the country every other week, and solidly dating. She comes to his home three weeks into the arrangement and Jack bounces around like a little kid again, calling her 'Miss Emily' and welcomes her enthusiastically. Aaron chooses wisely not to tell Emily that Jack spent 45 minutes trying to look presentable for her.

He hugs her with both, fully functional, arms tightly. "Thank you" He whispers in her ear, making her hug the boy now taller than her tighter. "For making him Aaron again." Jack says, pulling away. Emily couldn't reply save for a tight smile. Aaron snakes up next to them and steals her away from his son.

The team all notice the skip in her step, the lighter paperwork and the glow in her eyes. They speculate who it is, with a betting pool of government agents names appearing, and press Rossi for information on the regular. Spencer overhears a phone call one night on the way back to the hotel room two months in as Emily stands at the vending machine and accidentally eavesdrops.

He grows interested - he has money on a agent from Counter-Terrorism that Emily has had tension with for years - and stays behind the doorway.

"No" Emily shakes her head, fiddling with coins in her hands. "Don't be ridiculous. No-That was Derek's fault not mine." She protests. "He's the one who had the prank war with Spence, remember?"

Spencer's interest piques here and he moves closer. So it must be someone who was here 7 years ago during him and Morgan's prank war. That cuts out his guess but leaves Tara's, Penelope's and Luke's in.

How interesting.

Emily speaks again and he jumps. "Give Jack a kiss for me" Emily says lowly into the phone. Spencer's eyes go wide. "Yes, I know he's 16, Whats your point?" She laughs, crouching for her coca-cola. "I love you too" She says fondly. "I'll call you after the case to debrief, Hotch" She says his name mockingly but it's full of adoration. Spencer's jaw is slack and his eyes are wide as she turns to spot him.

Emily jumps about a foot in the air, spilling coke and dropping her phone. "Spencer!" She exclaims. Her eyes are equally as wide. "How long-?"

"Y-you found Hotch?" Spencer squeaks out, a spark of anger in his chest.

She sighs. "Yes- Look. Don't tell the others." She begs. "He wanted me to keep it a secret, wanted us to be together before he reveals himself to the rest of you."

"You're together?" He asks, the same slow smile falling into his face that occurs whenever there's great news. Emily sighs again and bites her lip, nodding.

"It's still new" She confesses. "No one knows. Only Dave, please"

"I won't." Spencer cuts her off, shaking his head. "I'm happy for you, Emily" He says quietly. She smiles, relived. "Can he come home soon?" He asks.

Now she laughs. "Oh buddy" She pats him on the back. "He's closer than you think." She says coyly. "Besides, you're stuck with me now."

Spencer mock groans so she punches his arm. They hug it out with another promise not to tell before disappearing into their rooms for the night.

It only takes about another month for the team to find out anyway.

That's because when they land from yet another case, Penelope is standing at the elevators with a shell shocked look on her face, staring right at Emily. JJ begins the questioning but Penelope just points at Emily and then to her office and then back at Emily. They all walk into the bullpen, staring up at the office in confusion.

Emily's face breaks into a smile when the figure of a man can be seen at her desk. Spencer sees him next and gasps excitedly while Dave just laughs. JJ clicks onto it first and moves her gaze to Emily. Matt didn't work under Hotch, joining after Emily was made Unit Chief, but knew off him and he nudged Tara, who was the next to realise what's happened and was staring at her friend. Luke leant into Garcia to ask what was going on, only to earn a sharp rebuttal and a weak insult about how she'll never gossip with him back.

Aaron looks up out of the window to spot the team, and he smiled broadly. He left his old office quickly, meeting them halfway.

"Superman returns from his fortress of solitude!" Dave quips as he reaches them.

"Hi" Aaron smiles, looking straight at Emily.

Before anyone can react, he's pulling her to him and kissing her in front of everyone.

She got hurt on this case, a UNSUB knocked her unconscious and nicked her neck with a knife. She hadn't needed stitches or anything, it was not even a lot of blood. But the second Dave told him the update, figuring he needed to know, Aaron was losing his mind. When Emily finally texted him that they had landed, he practically flew out of the door and to his old workspace on autopilot.

It was only when the old security guard greeted him by name that Aaron had realised what he had done so he gingerly made his way up and hid away from the stares of his old subordinates in his old office.

When they pull apart, she's blushing and biting her lip. He scans their faces in amusement : Dave's smug and proud, Spencer is surprised, JJ and Tara look delighted and surprised too, Luke is grinning and Matt is laughing.

Penelope looks two milliseconds away from losing her ever loving shit.

"So, does this mean you're back?" JJ begins, slyly. She smirks at Emily, who turns her head to hide in his neck.

Aaron chuckles, pulling away from her to officially greet everyone. "To the FBI? No" He confirms. "To Virginia? Yes." He pulls Spencer into a hug, smiling when it goes on longer than expected, kisses JJ and Penelope on the cheek and nods when JJ asks is Jack's home too. He greets the others amicably, not having a closer relationship with them and shakes Matt's hand politely.

"So how did-" Penelope bounces, swirling her finger between the two of them. "What happen- I always knew you two had the hots for each other" She finishes on, overjoyed.

Emily ducked her head. "Long story." She said simply, making her partner chuckle. "We're all going out for drinks-" She begins as his arm returns to her waist.

"YES. YES. THIS IS HAPPENING. LETS GO" Penelope finally loses it, making them all break. She whips out her phone. "I'm calling Morgan, He's coming too." She announces, darting off to phone the man.

"How was the case?" Aaron asked as Emily directs them to her office. The team all move to leave, all knowing that not a lot of work will be done. She shuts the door behind her, as they all exit to the bar, and closes the blinds, flipping off Tara's cheeky grin at the last second. Their exit leaves the BAU empty, save for those two.

He sits in front of the desk, feeling weird, as she leans against it.

Emily sucks in a breath. "Oh, I think my PenPal might be getting told all about that later" She shrugs but smirks when he chuckles.

"I'm sure Rocket is looking forward to it, Phoenix" He retorts back.

Emily hums in response and leans down for another kiss. "Now I'm sure someone said something about me being bent over this desk." She involuntarily squeals as he moves quicker than she's ever seen him.

It takes about 2 more months before she's fully moved in with him and Jack, who's very glad she's back around and that she makes his dad happy. It happens one morning as he wakes up to find her and Jack sitting in their pyjamas in the living room, playing on the gaming system. He quickly realised that he wanted every morning like this, with her here. And so he asks her to move in straight away.

"Aaron, Honey" Emily giggles, pausing the game. "All my clothes are here and Sergio's stuff is in the corner" She points. Jack snickers at him, shaking his head. "I've already moved in basically." She tells him softly, pecking his lips. He's left dumbfounded and wondering how two years of retirement left him that rusty.

It takes another 3, almost a year to the day Phoenix first messaged Rocket, before they're married.

He proposes on her birthday in October and they're married in Dave's backyard the week before Christmas. They've wasted enough time and refuse to let more slip by. The team is all there, including Derek. Penelope wrangles Sergio in a bow tie and clings onto him so he doesn't attack Aaron during the wedding. Dave is the officiant, Jack's the best man and JJ's the maid of honour, Derek's a groomsmen with Tara being the other bridesmaid. They employ Jess' daughter Courtney as the flower girl and Hank as the ring bearer with Michael and Henry taking their roles as security very seriously. Spencer reads out a speech he's prepared and Luke and Matt act as waiters for the rest of them due to vague threats from Penelope. The wind perks up just as they're about to kiss for the first time as Husband and Wife, making Emily laugh and blow a raspberry to the sky.

It's small and messy but it's them and there's nothing they would trade it for.

At the end of the night, Penelope unveils one last surprise that has Emily in tears.

A painting of a Phoenix rising from the ashes below her, with a rocket in the distance heading towards her. It's silly and doesn't make sense but hey, if that wasn't their story.

Aaron laughs and states he should have known Penelope would dig to find out while Emily cries. They hang it in their bedroom without a second thought and spend an hour pointing out the little details.

When the novelty of the picture is over, Emily collapses in his arms leaning her back against his torso with a loud, happy sigh. "God" She breathes, staring at the painting. "Who would've though we'd end up here? All thanks to a stupid Trauma Dump website."

Aaron hums, wrapping his arms around her. "Yeah" He agrees absentmindedly. "I love you, Phoenix." He mumbles in her ear.

Emily smiles and cranes her neck to stare up at him. "I love you, Rocket." She replies, smiling broadly.

He leans down and kisses her softly, swallowing anything else she had to say. Outside, The wind brushes gently before ceasing at all and downstairs, Sergio pulls Emily's laptop down by its charging cable. Jack scolds him and scoops him up to leave the house entirely. Emily and Aaron, Phoenix and Rocket, whatever you want to call them are entirely alone but together.

All thanks to some meddling from a force of nature, a 16yr old boy, a menacing cat and a nosy work colleague who's more of a father.

And of course, a stupid website.

tag list : @84hotpockets @serqueljisbon @loriprentiss @velvetblackness @castielryan

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss #the phoenix and the rocket #criminal minds fanfiction #agent hotchner #hotch #agent prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction

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zippidi-dooda · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

8 - Goodnight

"Why do we have so many houses?"

"Because we're traveling."

"Why do we travel?"

"Because we have to."

"But why? I'm tired of going everywhere, Mom. I want to go home Mom."

"... we're going to a home, Lucas."

"... are we traveling to Dad's house?"

"Uh, sure."

"Yay! I want to see Dad! I want him to see how strong I am! And we're gonna play swords and catch and he's going to teach me all kinds of things! I can't wait to hear about his travels! And I'm going to tell him how mean he is for not writing to us ever or getting me presents!"

"... he'll still be ... busy when we get there. We probably won't see him at all."

"What! No! I'm going to see Dad! And if I don't I'll track him down like those guys the wagon guy told us about. Dad's going to see us and we won't have to worry about anything anymore, I promise, Mom!"

A bittersweet smile formed as you remembered the conversation you and Lucas had once on your way to Briar Valley.

Lucas was a mostly active kid but he'd was still a kid. He got bored and tired and grumpy and asked questions when he didn't want to do something anymore.

But you didn't have a clear way to answer him for those types of questions. You still thought he was too young to know. So you did your best to satisfy his distracted mind before he decided to jump off the cart and run off to find something more fun to do.

It had worked but now he was expecting to see a father he no longer had.

And because of these expectations, he associated the first man he saw with being his Dad. It didn't help that the man visited you often and didn't reprimand Lucas for calling him such.

You sat front if the cool pond out back, gazing at the stars through the still, clear water, twirling a yellow dandelion between your fingers.

Crickets chirped merrily somewhere in the grass, filling the silence surrounding you. There wasn't a breeze blowing, but the night didn't feel too hot either. Everything felt pretty relaxed.

You pondered what you should do about the "father" situation.

On the one hand, you could leave things as they were and Lucas wouldn't have a fuss. But who knows what would happen if the people started to think it was the truth.

They'd know you didn't live together and no one knows about your visits in your little cabin. The worst ideas of you would come to mind and they'd be repulsed by your supppsed vulgarity.

They probably wouldn't do anything to Malleus since they revered him. But you and Lucas? They might shun you and talk behind your backs. Now, you could handle the talking and it'd likely go over Lucas' head, but if they refused to acknowledge you?

You'd have to find an efficient way to get/make materials and items you required to live a little comfortably. You could learn how to do many things as you've had to in order to get to this point, but it'd take time and Lucas was a growing boy with a short attention span. It'd cause you more difficulty than you believed you could handle.

Not to mention Lucas would feel hurt if anyone didn't respond to him and God forbid someone ruff him up cause they scorned you.

On the other hand, you could reveal everything to Lucas: your past, his real father, the reason you had to leave and kept traveling until you reached Briar Valley, tell him all the dangers it took to get here and how bad it'd have been to stay in Rourinville.

But if that happened?

You believed he'd probably try to refuse to believe you, would lash out and run away in a mad dash of tears because you'd made him believe he still had a father, made him constantly be on the move when he could have been living a cushy life and made friends like the people in all of the stories he's heard.

He might get upset with Malleus for not being his Dad and offend him in some way that may result in a terrible backlash.

If Lucas calmed down, from that point onward things wouldn't be the same between you. He might resent you. He might run off when you were sleeping and disappear from you forever.

You buried your face in your knees and sighed.

Maybe you were jumping to conclusions, but you really didn't want to experience either circumstance.

So ... what do you do?

"Are you alright?" A familiar voice asked.

You looked over you shoulder. "Hey, Draconia."

"Dangers often come out in the night, staying inside is the safest option." The fae looked at you quizzically, head slightly tilted to the side. "Why are you out so late?"

You couldn't help but crack a small smile before looking back at the pond. "Just thinking."

Malleus stepped forward and sat down beside you, not seeming to mind getting mud on him. "About what?"

"... Nothing. Lucas is sleeping."

"I'm aware. I checked the house before I spotted you here."

You looked at him.

He wore slim pants, knee-length boots, leather gloves, and a frilled, long sleeved button up - all black of course. A small amount of green makeup decorated his eyelids, making you drawn to look at his eyes. The moonlight glinted off his dark horns making them look sharper than they were.

He really was quite the sight.

"What are you doing here?"

"I finally had a moment to spare and thought I'd check if you were still awake."

You chuckled. "What if me and Lucas were both asleep? It is normally the time we're in bed."

"Then I would have simply went for a stroll in the woods as I used to do."

"Good. I would've had a problem if you just stood there watching us."

He hummed and you turned your attention back to the pond.

It was silent between you for a moment before Malleus looked over at you. His gaze landed at the flower in your hands and his eyes seemed to glint as an idea came to mind.

"Are you tired?"

"Not really. Ha, you wouldn't happened to know a sleeping spell to help me with that, would you?" You joked.

You knew full well that he did, the stories made sure to always point that out. It wasn't as pleasant as it sounded, so you really weren't sure why you decided it'd be appropriate to joke about. You shivered as you imagined all the years that would pass if he cast one such spell on you and began to pray that he didn't take your words seriously.

"I do."

Your face fell and you resisted the urge to scoot away from him.

"But I have a better idea. I think you may enjoy it. Do you like flowers, Y/N?"

"Uhh, yeah. Why do you ask?"

He smiled and stood up, offering a hand to you. "Perfect. I can assure that you'll be back in time before your son wakes from his slumber."

You frowned and looked back and forth from his close-eyed grin to his hand.

"... where are we going?"

"Someplace nice."

You looked back at the house for a moment. Was it safe to leave Lucas alone?

Malleus opened his eyes then followed your gaze. "He has not been harmed a moment since you've arrived, has he? I promise to keep it that way."

You hesitated before nodding.

"Okay. I'll trust you."

You let go of the dandelion to grab his hand.

As he helped you onto your feet, you were transported to someplace new.

You held your spinning head for a moment before taking a look around.

You appeared to be in dilapidated ruins.

The cobbled floor was cracked and coated with dust, large stone walls that once formed many pathways were crumbling and decorated by vines and a few spiderwebs. What you think were street lights lined the pathway and large tree roots snaked their way between the cracks in the floors.

"Where are we?"

Malleus began to lead you down the worn down paths. "A place I like to go for silence. Come, we're not too far from what I want to show you."

You followed behind him slowly, not wanting to trip over anything.

"No offense, but don't you have thousands of rooms in your castle to take solitude in? Why here?"

"I do. But I rather enjoy being out, especially touring ruins like this. Just around the corner now."

"Dr-Draconia, wait up! You're walking too fast."

Malleus stopped in front of a curtain of green vines and pushed them aside, waiting for you to walk past them first.

His smile hadn't left his lips and it was making you a little wary. Just what was going on?

"I'm sure you'll enjoy this. Go on."

"Draconia? What...?"

"You said you trust me, did you not?"

"Yeah, but not for-" You cut yourself off, not wanting to offend him, and simply did as he wanted.

You didn't know what you expected to see past the vines, but it certainly wasn't a garden.

Large brundles of flowers in every color decorated the floors and walls. They sat proudly among rows of black thorns, filling the area with their sweet aroma.

A few fireflies floated along them making the sight seem more surreal. A crumbling well sat in the center of it all, providing the plants the drink they needed in order to thrive properly.

You held your mouth agape as you looked around.

"Draconia? Did you grow all of these?"

"I'm afraid not. They grew on their own." He walked up beside you. "Strange, isn't it? How something so lively can live among desolate expanses."

"It's ... beautiful." You walked through the flowers, a smile growing on your lips, a hand hovering over the petals as you went.

Malleus sat on the edge of the well and watched you. "Yes. I think I was very fortunate to come across this place."

"I've had a flower garden before. They made sure it had every flower out there and always kept it pristine," You mused.

Malleus quirked a brow but didn't comment on your words.

You held up your hands for a firefly to land on.

"I think I like this much better. It's more free."

"Indeed."

None of the fireflies wanted to land on you so you dropped your hands and turned to Malleus.

"Are you sure you didn't do anything to start this?"

"Nothing at all."

You hummed and went to sit beside him.

"Ruins always appear unsightly at first glance, but the closer you get, the more you start to see the beauty in them. It's usually not as apparent as it is right here, but it's still there. That's what I believe."

You looked over at the dragon.

The small smile was still present but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He had spoken forlornly just now and was looking at the flowers with a strange glaze over his eyes.

You nudged him with your elbow. "Well, I'm glad you brought me here."

He nodded.

For a long moment, the both of you sat there silently, taking in the view and enjoying the tranquility. It wasn't uncomfortable or awkward at all which was a little strange, but neither of you minded.

Then, Malleus stood. "Well, we best get going now. You need your rest."

"Yeah, it is very late isn't it."

Malleus picked a rose from the flowers and brought it to his nose for a whiff.

"Draconia?"

"Yes?"

"Do you need sleep?"

He chuckled. "Would you like to find out?"

You blushed and began to stammer.

He laughed and extended you the rose. "I kid. I do sleep, though I don't need it as much as a human does."

"O-oh . . . Ow!"

As you reached to grab the flower, your finger pricked against one of its thorns and you pulled back, bringing your finger to your mouth.

"Oh? I should remove those."

As Malleus said that, the thorns vanished from the stem and he tucked the flower behind your ear. He then took a hold of your hand and grazed his thumb gently over your hurt finger. The pain went away and it was like nothing had happened at all.

"Odd how even beautiful things can be dangerous...."

"... thank you...."

Malleus nodded then took a better hold of your hand.

"Now then,"

In a flash, you were standing in the living room of the cabin.

"Have a good night, Y/N."

Malleus left in the blink of an eye, as per usual, and you uttered a quiet, "Goodnight," back. Barely noticing the pink blanket shrouding your skin and the quick beating sounding inside you.

"In Ruins" Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst malleus #x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #“In Ruins”

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