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rheareadsss · 6 months ago

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Mistake 4

•••••

It was late the next day, Gwyn had made sure no one was around when she entered the training area. She was alone when she began training, she was having trouble sleeping and noticing that no one was around she decided to blow off some steam with the daggers.

“You can’t avoid me forever Berdara” Azriel said after she sat down in the mat tired

Gwyn’s eyes met his, she hadn’t noticed him arriving at all “I know we were close but I think you can understand why we can’t be anymore” she says

“I know but I miss my friend” he admits

“I doubt that” she says standing up, she was ready to leave

“You can’t imagine what I feel”

“Can you imagine what I feel shadow singer?” She retorts now halting wanting to see his reaction

His eyes darkened then he shook his head

“Does she know?” She asks

“No she doesn’t, I don’t want to burden her”

“Of course”

“I’m sorry for how things played out” he says sincerely “I would never want to hurt you” he admits

“I’m sorry I told you” she admits more to herself

His eyes met hers “pardon?”

“If you would have announced your marriage- coupling to Elain earlier, I wouldn’t have told you” she admits “it would have saved us the trouble and eventually I would have moved on and rejected the bond”

Pain overcame his eyes, he looked down “I want you to be happy” he admits “you deserve it more than anyone I know”

She sighs and sits on the training mat again “I will be, just be happy with Elain, I know how much you’ve wanted this”

Azriel sits next to her “it feels surreal”

Gwyn lays her head on his shoulder like old times “I might not show up to your ceremony” she admits “I don’t know how the bond will react in my side, I don’t want to ruin anything” she adds

“Elain will definitely notice your absence”

“I said your ceremony shadow singer, I’ll definitely show up for the party” she says now lifting her head from his shoulder with a smirk, his shadows completely wrapped around her “I will not miss a good opportunity to have fun with my girls” she adds

He inhaled her scent, his chest swelling with it and he chuckles “of course”

“Truly wish you the best Azriel”

“Shadow singer” he says with a smile

Gwyn rolls her eyes “shadow singer”

“Berdara” he says looking at her profile, she truly is beautiful.

•

The day of the ceremony

Everyone was running around in the river house, the ceremony was to take place in the gardens, it was all very floral and pastel colors.

The ceremony would start at noon performed by Merill and supervised by Clotho.

Elain had vaguely hinted at wanting Gwyn to performed it but Azriel quickly shot down the idea as soon as it started brewing.

Azriel currently got ready in his room at the river house. He wore a black tux, Cassian and Rhys with him while he got ready.

“Ready to be a taken male?” Cassian asks

“Are you sure Az?” Rhys asks

Cassian turns to Rhys “he’s been waiting for this, why wouldn’t he be?”

“He wouldn’t be spacing out like that” Rhys points to Az

Azriel looks at them after shaking his head “I’m good, ready to be married”

“You sure? You can always back down” Rhys tells Azriel, mind to mind

“This is what I’ve always wanted, I’m ready and sure” Azriel answers mind to mind a bit annoyed

Cassian looks at the two “it’s rude to leave me out”

“No one is leaving you out” Rhys says and just check his suit for anything

“That says otherwise” Cassian points to an annoyed Azriel.

They heard a knock “May I?” Feyre peaks in the room

“Come in”

Feyre looks at Azriel “you look good Az, ready?”

“Of course”

“Let’s go”

They made their way to the gardens.

The garden was Elain’s dream wedding and it showed, everything was covered in roses and flowers. All the pastel colors represented her, Cassian has taken his allergy medicine just to make sure he was good.

Rhys looked around to see if he spotted the copper hair around but he knew she wouldn’t show until later on.

•

Gwyn looked at the clock and knew it was done already, the thread in her chest was dull and lifeless. She felt it flutter a few minutes ago before it went dull, she took a deep breath and continued getting ready.

Balthazar offered to pick her up as everyone was going to be busy at the river house, she decided on a black satin long dress and her hair down with loose curls.

She waited on the balcony, he said he would show at late noon. They didn’t have to be there early.

“Well you look beautiful”

Gwyn was startled “where did you come from?”

Balthazar points “that way”

“You look handsome as well”

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” Gwyn says walking close to him.

Balthazar made sure to be careful with her hair and they made it down to the river house, Gwyn was a bit weary at the beginning but Nesta promised it would be okay. She was worried that the bond might trigger something in her that she might regret.

Balthazar offered her his arm so she would link her arm, she smiled and accept it. She knew he only saw her as a friend so it made her feel better, she didn’t want to give him false hopes if it was the other way.

She entered the backyard of the river house, the gardens looked beautiful and she felt out of place in her black dress.

“Maybe black was the wrong choice” she voiced

“I beg to differ” Balthazar said

She felt better once she spotted Mor in red and Amren in a dark grey.

She glimpsed at the happy couple from the other side of the gardens, Elain was talking with someone and Azriel stood close to her. Hand on her lower back, Gwyn felt for the bond but it was lifeless.

She sighed in relief, she wouldn’t be making a scene. “Let’s find Nesta” she said and walked with Balthazar to look for her friend.

It wasn’t hard to spot the beauty in her red dress, Emerie was wearing blue.

“I’m so glad you’re here” Nesta said like she was bored and Emerie nodded

Cassian and Balthazar greeted each other and then began talking.

It was after 20 mins that Elain and Azriel made their way to them, their table.

“Thanks for coming Gwyn, Balthazar”

Gwyn stood and hugged Elain “you look beautiful Elain”

Elain smiled shyly “thanks”

Azriel watched as usual one of his shadows left him to be with Gwyn, it curled in to her neck like a necklace. She didn’t even feel it or mind it, she just touched it as she would a necklace and the shadow caressed her finger.

“Congrats Azriel” Gwyn said towards him

He smiled genuinely “thanks Gwyn”

“Congrats to the happy couple” Balthazar said

Azriel finally looked at him “thanks Balthazar”

“Please enjoy”

“We will”

Azriel leaves with Elain but not before noticing that again, he lost one shadow and it paraded itself around Gwyn’s neck.

•

It was now late in to the night, the garden was adorned with twirling lights to light up the dance floor. Live music played and the girls were already on the dance floor.

Mor, Emerie, Nesta and Gwyn. They were dancing and laughing, Gwyn felt nice to be out and she was grateful for her girls, it almost didn’t feel like she was at her mates ceremony to another female.

A slow song started playing and Emerie and Mor paired up, Cassian stood to dance with Nesta, Feyre and Rhys made their way to the dance floor along with the married couple.

Gwyn was about to go back to her sit when Balthazar caught her “dance?”

“Of course” she smiled and placed her hands on his shoulder while his went around her waist.

They swayed to the music, she looked to her right and there was Azriel kissing Elain while they danced. She felt a hollowness in her chest and the bond began to ache, she turned the other way but the pain now brewing in her chest was growing.

She laid her head on Balthazar’s shoulder “I hope this is okay?”

“This is okay” he reassured her “are you okay?” He adds in a whisper

“I’ll be fine” she whispers back as she tries to push her feelings away

They danced to two slow songs before she felt the bond flutter a bit, when they did a spin Gwyn noticed Azriel look at them before going back to look at his now wife.

Once the music picked up, a small circle was created. Almost all the inner circle was dancing together, Mor pulled Gwyn to the middle and they started dancing together.

At the end of the night, Gwyn kept smiling and laughing, ignoring the pressure in her chest. It was late when everyone started leaving, the happy couple left first.

It was unknown where they went to, the pain in Gwyns chest started growing more and more so she asked Rhys to take her back as Balthazar was still enjoying himself.

“I brought you, I will take you” Balthazar said

“I don’t want you to leave just because I’m ready to leave” Gwyn says not wanting him to stop his fun

“I don’t mind Gwynnie”

“Fine” she smiles

Gwyn noticed the shadow around her neck put a bit of pressure on her chest when she was in Balthazar’s arms.

Her hand quickly went to her neck and the shadow wrapped around her wrist, caressing her softly.

Once she was in the comfort of her room after thanking Balthazar, the shadow curled in her chest when she was ready to sleep to ignore the pain.

It was the first time she noticed it leave his master all together and stay with her, they had always left her whenever he wasn’t there or by the end of the night

What she didn’t noticed was that it wasn’t one shadow, it was two and one did leave once she was curled in her bed already.

It returned back to his master, bringing back her scent with him.

#gwynriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #gwyn berdara #gwyneth berdara #acotar

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bonefall · 2 years ago

Note

The family tree is coming along better than expected.

Question for the tree: how’s the Windclan family coming along?

Did you change any members of Tallstar’s family?

Well, to answer this question, I’ll show you the step I’m currently on with WindClan. I’ve drawn out the canonical family tree that I have to start with,

(This is why it takes me a while to pop out these family trees; this is actually an easier chart I’ve made. Top left corner is ‘orphan’ characters with no relevant parents or siblings.)

As you can see, WindClan is actually only two families, and a slew of completely unrelated male bachelors. It gets worse because Shellfur ended up stealing the ONLY unrelated bachelorette, Fernstripe, out of WindClan for himself.

Heathertail also decided to put herself with her first cousin once removed instead of literally anyone else in WindClan. I also normally wouldn’t care that Breezepelt is also her grand-uncle’s grandson (a second cousin is significantly distant) but with how closely related they were already, it’s insult to injury.

Not to mention how Onestar clearly knows about it in his SE. I was actually undecided on the severity of Rule 1′s Addendum until the EXACT moment I remembered Onestar thinking about how Heathertail was marrying his sister’s grandson. It made me so uncomfortable I'm using it as a nuke button.

So, anyway, I don’t have as many thoughts as my ThunderClan fix obviously, but here’s what I’m thinking for WindClan so far--

General changes;

Several bachelors are getting hit with the woman beam, but finalized changes won’t set in until I decide who I want as parents.

Tentatively, I’m thinking Slightfoot, Hootwhisker, and/or Weaselfur are going to be molly’d.

I may end up allowing Furzepelt a litter before her death in AVOS; or stop her death entirely

(it frustrates me when interesting background cats are killed for no reason)

I may kill Whiskernose instead of Sunstrike in the Great Battle, and allow her to be the disabled elder.

Tentatively considering Sunstrike and Furzepelt as WLW to raise kittens together.

Tornear will have a descendant; I don’t like that Shrewclaw’s line died out.

Webfoot will probably have a descendant as well, unsure who though.

In general more of the cats from Tallstar’s Revenge and post-SkyClan Exile WC warriors have kits instead of just Hickory/Meadow, Woolly/Pale, and Mist/Hare.

ALSO Larkwing’s kits currently have no father. As long as the Erins don’t do something remarkably stupid, I’ll go with whatever father they end up deciding on.

On the Hickory/Meadow and Stag/Wren Bloodlines;

Tallstar’s direct family (parents, siblings) are unchanged.

I’m not a fan of how Tallstar suddenly made his nephew his deputy. It adds an element to the WindClan Rebellion that feels wrong.

So, Onestar is being moved out of Stag/Wren’s litter. This fixes that, as well as Heather/Breeze being first cousins once removed.

Morningflower has no living children; Ashfoot’s only surviving child was Crowfeather.

Tentatively, Onestar is the son of Larksplash and Cloudrunner (father subject to change). He was unnamed at the time of his mother’s death and the only survivor of the litter, leading to the name Onekit.

Sorrelshine and Deadfoot’s descendants are far enough removed (and they were both dead long enough) that I won’t be changing their children or parents.

Heather/Breeze;

Breezepelt, my detested, is going to get massive changes in the bigger rewrite leaving his litters undecided for now.

I am not against deleting the four kits entirely if it means Breezepelt gets a more conclusive ending; him raising them is barely even relevant in the THREE. ARCS. since oots.

He didn’t even mourn Smokehaze what was the POINT? HMM??

Unsure if he will still end up with Heathertail; but he probably will after AVOS.

Possible scenario: Smokehaze and Brindlewing were in a second litter for Onestar and Whitetail, and Heathertail can have Apple and Wood with Breezepelt after he has an actual redemption arc in AVOS.

Other scenario: Smoke and Brindle have an unknown father or were sired by someone else to Heathertail alone, invoking the Queen’s Rights

If Scenario 1, would be cool if Darktail straightup killed Smokehaze, and Brindlewing dies in TBC...

On that note, again, these family trees are genetic trackers and don’t mention any of my other fixes, but it’s worth saying that Whitetail is no longer Onestar’s apprentice. HELL no.

‘Trying to preserve canon‘ applies as a rule to everything EXCEPT Onestar’s Confession I will drown this book in the lake with my bare hands

#WindClan #Warrior Cats Family Tree #Family tree #Bonefall Rewrite #Also don't worry about sending so many asks dude #Why would I be mad at getting questions about something I want to talk about?#As long as you don't mind it takes me a while to get to them #Your asks on River and Shadow may have to sit there for a couple days though #I haven't drawn their canon charts out yet which takes me an hour or two #And then these posts actually take me an appalling amount of time because I enter focus mode #I'm trying to get a post about kittypet culture out before I have to get some actual school work done #I just wanna talk about cats man

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heliads · 4 years ago

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Hostage Situation

When Y/N L/N is kidnapped by Peter Pan to serve as a hostage and coerce her kingdom into leaving Neverland alone, she can only laugh. The mutual hatred between her and Pan, however, may lose its fire after a while.

masterlist

Your feet tread methodically around the grounds. You loop around the castle, walking past scraggly bushes and dying trees, eyes occasionally flickering to the large mountains in the distance. Your mother and father keep an impressive castle, but their focus rarely extends to the upkeep of the grounds themselves. Kings and Queens don’t exactly bother themselves with gardening- that will fall to the servants or, when you’ve managed to bore yourself enough, you.

Technically, you should be back in the castle. You are a princess, after all, and princesses rarely roam about the grounds in dirty, faded boots that have walked more miles than the most experienced of messengers. This being said, you’re not sure anyone will spare you enough thought to care. You may be a princess, but only in blood and title. Anything else must be fought for, and you’ve given up such pastimes long ago.

You suppose you’re still musing over this, which is why you don’t see the shadow swooping down over you until it’s too late. By the time you feel the uncanny stillness, or notice that an unusual darkness has swarmed around you, the shadow’s eerily human arms have wrapped around you, and your feet are already lifting from the ground. You struggle, but it is in vain, and soon you’re watching trees and rivers pass miles below you. You lock eyes with the shadow being, but its glowing white gaze betrays nothing but an emotionless urge to complete orders. Wherever you’re going, someone is waiting for you, someone who is controlling this shadow.

This realization troubles you more than you like. You don’t much like the idea of being taken somewhere, and you’re not about to just sit around and let it happen. You wait until the shadow swoops low over a rolling set of hills, and begin to fight back with renewed vigor. Although your blows tend to sink through the only somewhat corporeal shadow, you manage to stun it enough that it drops you. You fall through the air, catching yourself in the boughs of trees and scrambling down.

Your feet pound on the dirt as you sprint away from the shadow, but even this effort is useless. It appears out of nowhere in front of you, and as you skid to a stop it raises its hands and a wave of shadow rushes from it. The darkness pools around you like ink, rising to swallow you whole. You can only see one last thing before the darkness engulfs you completely: the white beacons of light that are the shadow’s eyes. Then there is nothing to see at all, and you can feel yourself falling to the ground.

When you wake up again, you find yourself lying down. You’ve been propped up against a tree, and when you open your eyes, you realize you’re in the middle of a forest. It’s a different forest than the one you were just in, and at a different time of day. The shadow must have continued the journey while you were still unconscious. You shiver slightly at the thought- wherever you are, it won’t be good. You move to sit up, but a wave of dizziness yawns open in your stomach and you lean back once more. You go to steady yourself, but your hands don’t move- they’ve been tied together with rough rope.

You had done your best to stay silent, but it’s not like you’re alone. Across the clearing, about a dozen or more boys dressed in robes of faded brown dance around a campfire. An almost maniacal glee spreads across each of their faces as they whirl and jump around, dancing to the haunting sound of a flute. The music stops after a second, but the boys continue dancing. You shiver slightly, then straighten up as a new boy approaches you. This one is dressed not in the russet tones of the others, but instead a dark, forest green. He must be their leader.

He crouches down in front of you, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Welcome, princess.” You raise an eyebrow at his tone. “An interesting welcome, sure. Nothing says fun like ropes and a kidnapping.” The boy just chuckles. “It wasn’t like you made it easy for us.” You shrug, eyes wandering away from the boy to skim the trees surrounding you. An idea is starting to click into place in your head. There’s a story you heard once, from a traveling merchant. There was an island deep in the ocean, full of boys who never seemed to grow old. They were led by one in particular, one boy who could make grown men shiver in their boots.

Your attention snaps back to the boy. Now you really look at him, at his knife-sharp grin and the cool confidence he wears like a glove. His smirk widens as if he can read your mind. “Do you know where you are, love?” You sigh, leaning your head back against the tree in exasperation. “Let me guess, I’m on Neverland.” The boy spread his hands as if in pride, and you resist the urge to groan.

If this is Neverland, then the boy in front of you must be Peter Pan. And you have heard enough about Peter Pan to know that any hour spent with this devil of a boy will be absolute hell.

Pan notices the realization sink into the girl’s eyes. She must have heard of him, he assumes, or she wouldn’t be looking at him like that. However, unlike the other visitors, there isn’t a shred of fear in her gaze. No, she just looks like she’s been dealt an unfortunate round of cards, rather annoyed instead of outright afraid. Pan’s not sure how he feels about that.

Y/N considers the rope tying her wrists. “Well, Peter, are you going to untie me or just let me stew here for a while?” Pan frowns. “It’s Pan. And no, you may be a princess but that doesn’t mean we’re all going to bow to you whenever you ask. There’s only one monarch in Neverland, and I’m afraid that title belongs to me. You’ll have to sit tight until they find out you’re missing.” Y/N scoffs, and then her eyes grow alight with suppressed laughter. “Wait- I think I know why I’m here. You’re trying to use me as a hostage.”

Y/N laughs even harder now, and Pan frowns. “I’m not sure why that’s funny. Your kingdom has been infringing upon my waters for a long time now. I intend to stop them.” Y/N shakes her head, doing her best to bite back a grin. “No, I get it. Great motive, but I’m afraid you chose the wrong hostage.” She fixes him with a cool look, finally keeping her laughter in check. “I’ve been kidnapped a couple of times before. Trust me, they won’t come for me. Not the guards, not my parents. I’m not useful to them.”

Pan frowns, curious despite himself. “What do you mean, you’re not useful to them?” Y/N shrugs. “The reason my parents became the King and Queen is because they were able to channel the power of my ancestors. Every monarch in my kingdom uses some magical artifact to gain increased strength, life, wisdom, you name it. The only problem is that it doesn’t work with me, so I’ve ceased to be a worry to them. I can’t use magic at all- not for them, not for you. You can hold me on this island for as long as you want, but it won’t work. They’re not coming after me.”

The words are light, spoken with the last traces of a laugh, but Pan still feels his stomach clench with some unnameable emotion. Maybe Y/N is meant to be a Lost Girl, maybe she’s more lost than any of them. This though alone fills him with loathing. If she’s a Lost Girl, then she’s supposed to stay on the island, even beyond her sentence as a hostage. Pan, however, is fairly sure that he doesn’t want to see this girl longer than a second. She had better be wrong about her parents, because Pan is certain that he’s going to end up killing her before the guards arrive on the shores of Neverland to rescue her.

You wake early, just before dawn begins to stain the tops of the trees with the light of morning. You stand up, stretching, and glance around the clearing. The Lost Boys appear to have gone to sleep, Pan included. They’ve left you alone for now, but you have no doubt that they’re still watching. Besides, it’s not like it would matter anyway- there’s nowhere for you to go. You’re on an island, after all, and there’s no way you could swim far enough to reach another nation’s shores.

Careful not to make a sound, you meander over to the campfire. Your hopes are proven correct when you spy a knife lying abandoned in the dirt. You pick it up, beginning to saw away at your ropes as you walk out of the clearing. You toss the cut ropes behind you, tucking the knife into your boot just in case. On an island like this, you never know when you might need a weapon.

You end up walking for about ten minutes before you get the feeling that you’re being watched. You roll your eyes. “I know you’re there, you can come out now.” One second you’re alone, and the next you’re being shoved up against a tree, an arm against your throat to stop you from moving. “You know, I’m fairly sure escaping prisoners aren’t supposed to call out to their jailers.” You scoff, pushing Pan’s arm away from you. “I appreciate the concern, Peter, but I’m not trying to escape. I’m just having a good time exploring the forest.”

You can see Pan’s eyes darken when you use his first name, but he ignores the jibe. “Who said I care about your wellbeing? I’m just making sure that you aren’t getting any ideas about an escape.” You give him a look, continuing on along the trails of the forest. “Anyone stuck on an island with you would think about escape.” He just chuckles, walking alongside you. “Tell that to my Lost Boys. They’ve chosen to leave the world behind to live on Neverland.” You smirk at him. “And what a sorry, sorry choice they’ve made.” He glares at you, but you just grin.

If you’re going to have to stay on this accursed island, you at least intend to enjoy yourself.

Y/N wakes up every morning to walk the island. Pan’s not sure why she bothers- there’s nowhere for her to go. Yet every dawn she wakes like clockwork, opening her eyes and beginning her wanderings. Pan has wondered if she’s awoken by nightmares, and that’s why she gets up so early, but if she’s plagued by night terrors Y/N is very good at hiding it. She doesn’t seem concerned at all, just keen to see the forest. Pan’s long since given up on the binding ropes- she just finds some way to remove them.

Pan’s watching his Lost Boys practice fighting when he senses another pair of eyes watching the sparring boys. He glances up to see Y/N, half hidden among the trees. Her gaze is glued to the boys, and he can almost picture her dissecting every move. There was an opening, when John stumbled, there was an opportunity, when Devin swung too low. Pan’s never heard of a princess that could fight, but if there ever was one, he’s sure that it would be her. Y/N lacks many of the key characteristics of a princess- charm being one of them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could hold her own in a fight.

After the match ends with a triumphant Devin raising his fists to the sky, Pan steps forward. Instantly, the eyes of the Lost Boys all flash to him, including Y/N’s. He doesn’t speak that often, usually allowing Felix to lead classes. When he does have something to say, the Lost Boys tend to listen. Pan gestures for Y/N to step out of the grove of trees. “Well, princess, care to join the ring? Or are you all talk as we thought?”

She laughs, but Pan can see the glint of a challenge rising in her eyes. Y/N steps forward, and Pan points out a Lost Boy to act as her opponent. “Nick, I’d usually tell you to not rough her up too bad, but to be honest, I think we all want to see her get punched.” Y/N smirks. “If that’s true, why don’t you come down here and fight me yourself?” It’s a challenge, certainly, but Pan speaks before it can gain traction with the Lost Boys. “I’d never dirty my hands fighting someone like you.” Y/N, wisely, says no more, and shifts into a fighting stance opposite Nick.

To be honest, Pan does have to feel bad for the guy. No matter what he tries, Y/N throws him away like he’s nothing. She blocks his attacks, she punches and kicks and basically tears the guy to shreds. It would be humiliating were it not for the fact that Y/N is so obviously better than anyone on this island except for Pan and maybe Felix. Y/N flashes Pan a grin, extending a hand lightly coated in blood that does not belong to her. “Want to send another Lost Boy into the ring, or have you accepted the fact that I’m not going down easily?” Pan returns her smile. “I think I’m good.” And maybe, he just might be okay with all of this.

You’re relaxing by the campfire in the morning when you first hear the sounds of running footsteps. After that fight with Nick (although fight isn’t exactly the right word for it, maybe instead you could call it a bloodbath), the other Lost Boys accepted you immediately. Even Peter seems to approve of you now, and you catch him smiling softly at you across a clearing when he thinks you can’t see. You’re not sure why you notice, or why you keep thinking about it, but you’re fairly sure he shouldn’t linger behind your eyes as long as he does.

You look up at the swiftly approaching pair of Lost Boys, expecting to see them collapse in laughter, but the boys instead look worried, faces drawn with anxiety. You stand up, suddenly tense. What could make these boys look so nervous? They run over to Peter, practically tripping over themselves in an attempt to make it to their leader. Even from here, you can hear their words. “Guards- a ship full- the king and queen- they’re attacking us.”

You can see Peter’s face freeze. He speaks to them quickly. “They were flying the flags of Y/N’s kingdom? You’re sure of it?” They nod. “They’re pouring down the beaches now. They’ll be here any second.” Peter curses under his breath, calling to the rest of the boys to grab weapons and defend the camp. You race over to him. “I can fight. Give me a weapon.” Peter stares at you. “You’d fight against your parents?” You nod. “They’re not here for me, they’re here for the magic on the island. Trust me, they wouldn’t come all this way if they didn’t think they could get something out of it.”

Peter’s brow furrows as he realizes what you’re saying. “You think that’s why they’re here?” You nod. “There’s no other reason. I’ve been kidnapped before, they never came. They’re not here for me.” You repeat, and Peter’s jaw clenches. “Get a sword, you can fight with the others.” He starts to move away, then steps back to you. “And Y/N? Stay safe.” You nod, returning the assurance of safety. Then the two of you run your separate ways, each desperate to save the island that’s somehow become your home in a matter of weeks.

You pull on a hooded cloak so the guards can’t recognize you. You can’t take the chance that they’d try to bring you back to the ship, not when you’re supposed to be fighting for Neverland. Your sword moves in a never-stopping arc, cutting through armor and slicing the soldiers like the warriors of old. At last, you pause for a second, noting that the situation on the beach has cleared. Yet you don’t see your parents, even though the Lost Boys said they were here. A chill rises in your throat as you realize what must be happening, and you turn and race back to the camp. Back to Peter.

Sure enough, your parents have found him. They’re using all of their magic against him, doing their best to take him down. Peter is strong, far stronger than either of them. Yet the two of them and additional guards against one Lost Boy isn’t a fair fight, even if it’s against Peter. Your heart is pounding in your throat. You’re going to have to make a decision, one you promised yourself you’d never have to make.

You fling your arms up, and a wall of magic slams into your parents. They crumple to the ground along with the guards and lie there, unmoving. You can tell that they’re still breathing, albeit slowly. Peter’s gaze flashes from the suddenly unconscious guards to you, who stands there still, breathing heavily. Your arms are still raised from the burst of magic, and you lower them slowly. His gaze seems to burn right through you, and you begin to speak quickly, desperate to say something, anything, to stop the cutting look in his eyes.

“They never saw me, their backs were turned. We can get them onto the ships and away. They’ll think it was you, that you were too powerful for them. They won’t return. They won’t know about me.” Peter steps forward, but your feet feel leaden in your boots. You’re not sure you could move if you tried. His voice is quiet. “You do have magic.” You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t want them to know. I knew if they found out they would use me as a weapon, and I didn’t want to live as their blade.”

Understanding begins to dawn in Peter’s eyes. “You didn’t need the artifacts because you already had power of your own. You were smart to hide it from them.” His brow furrows again, confusion sweeping over him. “Why would you show me? Why would you trust me?” You look away. “You let me into your island, into the Lost Boys, without knowing about my powers for a second. I served no use to you, not even as a hostage. You didn’t want me here because of how I could help you, you wanted me here because of who I was. That’s why.”

Peter’s quiet for a second, and you begin to think that you’ve said too much. “They’ll probably find out after a while. I can board another ship, make my way back to the Enchanted Forest. They won’t bother you if I leave.” Peter says nothing, and you almost fear that he won’t say anything at all. That he’ll let you leave without another word, too wounded over this lie. Then his hand is on your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him, and he kisses you.

He kisses you for a second, then breaks away. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your cheeks. “I’m not letting them take you. Not now, not ever. I don’t want you to leave, Y/N. You’ve been a Lost Girl since the day you arrived and I can’t let you go because you want to protect us.” A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips. “What happened to there only being one monarch on the island?” Peter laughs quietly. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

#peter pan #peter pan imagines #peter pan x reader #peter pan oneshot #ouat #ouat imagines #ouat x reader #ouat oneshot #peter pan ouat #peter pan ouat imagines #peter pan ouat x reader #peter pan ouat oneshot #once upon a time #once upon a time peter pan #once upon a time imagines #once upon a time x reader #once upon a time oneshot

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usedtobeguest123 · 3 years ago

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“That’s it,” Antonio whispered reverently, craning his neck to look up higher. “That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

Mirabel stood beside him, tapping her mouth thoughtfully with her finger. After a moment, she nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, Toñito. It’s the perfect tree.” She held out her fingers in two L’s, creating a frame to admire the tree through. “Low branches to start, sturdy branches all the way up, leaning just a little to help with the climb but not enough to make it precarious once you’re up there–”

“I-I’m sorry, the climb?” Bruno interjected, leaning his head forward to try to catch their eyes.

Mirabel dropped her arms and tilted her head toward Antonio. “You may need a boost to get started; you okay with that?”

“Yeah, Parce can help me!” Antonio said, clapping his hands with delight.

“W-wait–” Bruno stammered. “Wait, I thought, I thought we were looking for a tree to sit under, you know, have a picnic, maybe read—”

“Should we race?” Mirabel said, grinning down at Antonio. “I think we should race.”

“I brought a book,” Bruno added, his voice trailing off mournfully. He was clearly realizing his concerns were making no headway.

Antonio crossed his arms and leaned back against his tío’s legs. “It’s okay, Tío Bruno, bring your book with you. We can read when we get to the top!”

Mirabel looked over at her tío with a slightly more sympathetic smile. He was gazing with wide eyes at the very top branches of the ancient mango tree, looking a bit like he might pass out. She laughed and bumped his shoulder with her own, sending a wince across his features.

Over the past couple weeks, Tío Bruno had spent almost every day with Antonio, and in that time, Mirabel had watched him venture farther from Casita than she’d ever seen in the whole year since his return. He’d wandered forest paths, waded knee-deep into rivers, even allowed himself to be chased by a jaguar (once, and she doubted it would happen a second time). It’s so good for him, she thought, to get out and live.

Her tío had a soft spot for Antonio, and she noticed that he was almost incapable of saying no to any of the boy’s grand ideas when he looked up with his round face full of excitement, and though Bruno often followed along with shaky reluctance, he always managed to find some enjoyment in the adventure in the end. Antonio seemed oblivious to his tío’s hesitance, just happy to have another buddy who showered him with an abundance of attention. For his part, Tío Bruno seemed equally pleased with the attention he received back. It was all rather sweet, actually.

Tío Bruno and Antonio spent most of their afternoons in the jungle, where Mirabel would happily join them after spending the morning with Abuela in town, finally able to carve a place for herself, finally feeling useful. She’d only just begun shadowing her abuela around, asking questions about how the town was run now that questions were allowed to be asked. Now that her questions were viewed with proud approval and not exasperated contempt. She’d spend her mornings learning and helping and feeling like she was making a difference, and her afternoons settled in the safety of her tío and primito’s easy companionship, and it had made for an ever-growing string of happy days that Mirabel could hardly believe were real. She hadn’t realized how much melancholy she’d actually carried around each day before, just below the surface, carefully parceled away from even herself. Now that the weight had been lifted and she had a taste of what real belonging felt like, she looked back with pity on her old self, glad to have grown into someone new.

“You can do it, Tío! I saw you climb in the walls, I know you’ve still got it,” she urged with a teasing wink. He looked at her flatly. It was true that he got her “you can do it” speech at least three times a week now, and it was perhaps beginning to lose a bit of its potency. “Come on, just watch how Antonio does it and follow where he climbs.”

Right on cue, Parce pawed a circle around them and then leaned his side into the trunk of the tree. Antonio scampered up onto his back and stood, and it gave him just the extra height he needed to hook his leg over a sturdy, low-hanging branch and leverage himself up into the tree.

“Mirabel, the kid sleeps in a tree.” Tío Bruno’s eyes followed Antonio’s swift ascension. “ I don’t sleep in a tree. I’m fifty-one years old. I could die.”

Mirabel scowled at him.

“What?” he said, throwing his arms out and shrugging. “It’s not a prophecy, relax. It is true, though.” He pointed a warning finger at her.

“You’re not going to die,” Mirabel said, rolling her eyes. She reached down and bundled her skirts to one side, tucking the bottom hem into her waistband and freeing her legs to climb unencumbered. “I’ve got emergency arepas if you break something, though.”

“Ha!” he shouted after her as she strode to the tree and put her foot flat against the trunk, testing her weight against the lowest branch. “Ha! Y-you are so funny.”

#encanto fanfic #bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal #my writing

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wdwmarveldisney · 4 years ago

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🥺👉👈 Could I maybe request a doctor who x reader with a younger, more innocent teenage reader? And the doctor gets protective over them, especially when they could be in danger. Any doctor could fit. (sorry if this is not enough information I'm new to making requests)

Let them go

Eleventh Doctor x platonic!teen!reader

Summary: When the Doctor takes you to your favourite musical, things once again don’t end well.

Masterlist

A/N: Ok so I loved this request and thank you so much. You are so sweet. Don’t worry about how information there is, I just hope that you like it. I may have mixed a little Newsies in here because, well I love it and I honestly think about how I would a hundred percent ask to go there if I was travelling with the Doctor.

Not my GIF

Shaking violently when travelling seemed to be the only flaw of the TARDIS and even then, it was only because the Doctor was a terrible pilot. He had tried to convince you otherwise but you'd met River on more than one occasion and she had actual evidence for her argument so excuse you if you sided with her. But that didn't mean that you hated it; every time it happened, you'd grin real big because it was just yet another reminder of the chaos that came with the Doctor. You had a usual place by the controls, one where you were often moved from during flight to avoid you being in the way. Most of the time you ended up in one of the seats, watching his every move in hopes of learning what any of it meant. River had promised to teach you when you were older, said you could leave the Doctor in the 1920s where he apparently thrived and she'd teach you how to the drive the TARDIS.

Right now however, you were here in 2017 New York, at your request. You had asked to see the recording of Newsies after a small (ok so maybe the exact opposite of small) obsession with the musical over the years. You were surprised when all the Doctor had to do was make a call and suddenly you were right at the front with the opportunity to go backstage afterwards too. The inner fangirl was hard to control as the two of you headed to the doors and you managed to stumble slightly but he had caught you before you could fall into the wooden doors. Pouting as he laughed, you tugged his bow tie hard making him stop with a frown and a hand going to readjust it. He scanned your attire with an amused smile which resulted in a flick to the head from you. "Ow, I didn't say anything!"

You walked out the TARDIS, breathing in the smell of hotdogs and petrol before facing him with a small frown, "You were thinking it. I can wear a Newsies shirt if I want to wear a Newsies shirt," he put his hands up in surrender as he walked out too and then quickly turned to lock the doors. You tugged at the shirt in question as you glanced round the empty alley, waiting for him. It was a few seconds before you felt an arm fall into your shoulders and quickly you began to walk to the streets with big smiles on your faces. In the small time you had come to know the Doctor, he had become like family. You had been quite sheltered growing up, never seen much trouble but that's kinda expected from a small town family. When you started travelling with the TimeLord, you saw a lot of bad stuff, things you had never even thought possible and so naturally, he was protective. He was like an older brother, maybe a dad ish vibe.

Your steps were in time with his as you approached the theatre, huffing at how long the queue to get in was. Finally in line, you tapped your foot patiently and suddenly, the question had slipped from your lips without much thought, "How did you get good tickets?" He paused, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie nervously before straightening out his tweed jacket. He avoided eye contact and instead stared at the bright lights surrounding you guys, "Well, um, I helped write it. Historical facts and stuff," you watched him shrug with terribly faked nonchalance. Jaw dropping, your eyes went comically wide as you stuttered out, "You- They- What?" Unbelievable. Of course he knew about your obsession with the musical and failed to mention his involvement with writing it.

It was a couple hours later and you were waiting by the Doctor's side as the theatre cleared out. He had spent the whole musical jittery and chatty, clearly not good with just sitting there and watching. Several times someone had complained and you had had to talk with him about it. He was a literal child at times. But despite the fact he had muttered about his hate for Twitter after the girl next to you guys tweeted a picture of herself and her friend there, you enjoyed yourself. The musical was just as great as the first time you watched the recording, if not better. And now, you couldn't stop bouncing in excitement. You were actually going backstage, and you were going to meet the cast of a musical you have obsessed over for years.

But of course, with the Doctor, things never happened that easily.

The TimeLord had pulled out his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with while you waited and frowned at the noise it made. You caught his muttering and huffed, already knowing that look on his face. Concern, anger and a touch of excitement. "Don't say it," his eyes slowly left the device in his hands as he raised an eyebrow at your words. Someone was just leaving the backstage area but neither of you noticed as you sighed, "Why does something always have to happen? One good, non-alien day is all I ask. Is that even possible with you?" He grinned goofily at you with a breathy chuckle before raising the screwdriver in the air and scanning your surroundings. You jumped at the tap on your shoulder, facing the crew member with fists raised like that would do something. "Oh,"

"I was sent to get you. What's he doing?" You glanced to the Doctor, who now stood on one of the seats and you shrugged, arms crossing over his chest. Looking between both men, eventually you answered, "I find it best not to ask until he gets that look on his face," the guy frowned as he watched the Doctor jump from the seat and run up an aisle and look through one of the doors. As the two of you watched him lock the door with the screwdriver, the crew guy asked, "What look?" Going to respond, you stopped yourself once seeing the dark look of his face. The one that ensured mortal danger and most likely ended with the two of you saving the world. Again.

"That look," the guy watched you point to the alien as he made his way over to you by jumping over one of the seats. His arm landed on your shoulders as he huffed slightly from all the running round, "Right okay then, possible shapeshifter, very dangerous and kills for the hell of it. Also, amazing dancers and have a tendency to be really funny. Ready?" As he spoke, he looked the guy up and down in a calculating way as if he was possible suspect. You ignored the shock and fear on the guy's face in front of you and instead tilted your head in debate, "I mean, yeah sure," with a laugh, he clapped his hands together and approached the crew member. He too ignored the expression or he just didn't notice with how quickly his mind was now working. He smiled, hands clasped in front of him as he did another look over the guy before speaking, "Ok, we're ready to go. Should probably check out backstage first," he looked to you and you nodded in agreement. "Well," he paused as he placed his hands on the guy's shoulder, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Panicky look still clearly painted on his features, his voice shook as he managed, "Carl,"

"Well Carl, lead the way," gripping the clipboard in his hands tighter, Carl turned around and began to walk up the stairs and backstage with the two of you following. You stared at your feet as you walked, pout on your lips as you thought, "So, when you say very dangerous...?" The Doctor paused before backtrack king to you and placing his hands on your shoulders whilst ducking his head down to meet your eyes. He had such certainty and determination that you knew he wasn't lying when he said, "Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise," a chuckle left your lips as you punched his shoulder, smile lighting up your face as he remained unbelievably serious, "Well duh. I've got my own hero. And you know I'd haunt the hell out of you," he shook his head, smile fighting it's way to his face as the two of you began to walk behind the curtain.

So apparently the Doctor isn't great with promises or at least, that's what you gather when the two of you were walking down a deserted corridor and something had grabbed you from behind. The last hour had been the two of you searching in the dark, trusting no one since this alien shapeshifted. Two crew members were found dead and another missing so the Doctor insisted on going to find her and well, naturally you followed without question. And now you had a claw to your throat as you whimpered at how hard the alien was pulling your hair. This made the Doctor turn, eyes darkening when he saw you struggling and crying quietly to yourself. "Let them go," it was practically a whisper but it echoed in the hall, making the creature laugh. "Why would I do that?" The voice was deep and distorted and almost robotic, "They'll be so much fun," the last word was spat, venom in the voice making whimper again. You shook violently and the Doctor met your terrified eyes with his remorseless ones. "Why are you here? Order the Shadow Proclamation states Earth is a Level five planet. Do you know what they'd do to you?" He took a few taunting steps forward, head almost bowed in anger.

A small scream left your lips as the claw made a small cut in your throat and the Doctor seemed to tense. Rolling out his shoulders, the TimeLord uncharacteristically smirked as his fingers toyed with the screwdriver in his hands and he laughed almost hollowly, "I know about your people. I have fought your people time again and again and again. And do you want to know what I remember?" There was a pause in his words, only audible thing being your small cries, "You really don't like high frequencies," he raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button and the alien began to freak. His hands slammed over his ears and he stumbled back, essentially freeing you. You managed to make your way to a worried and panicking Doctor before the two of you rushed down the hall and inside a changing room. You fell back against the door as the whir of the screwdriver and the click of the lock and the huffs of your breaths filled the room.

Suddenly the small device was stuck in your face, scanning you up and down before you smacked it away. He gave you a pointed look before carrying on, no doubt scanning for any other type of harm. He was in protective mode which wasn't uncommon but could get annoying when he wouldn't stop checking up on you. With a frustrated expression, you snatched the screwdriver from his hands and shook your head when your eyes met, “I’m fine,” you made sure to emphasise the last word and the Doctor mimicked you under his breath like a three year old. Scoffing, you pointed the screwdriver at him in warning but he just simply took it back with a small huff.

And then there was a bang at the door and the two of you were reminded of the danger you were facing this time round.

#doctor who #doctor x reader #platonic #teen!reader #eleventh doctor x teen!reader #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #request

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dreamkidddream · 4 years ago

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hello!

can i request a hc on being best friends with dazai, chūya, oda and akutagawa (platonic and separate) and also maybe being in the pm or ada? thank you! :)

My first BSD request! When I tell you I fell in LOVE with the anime, omg. I binge watched the entire show and the movie within a couple days and can’t wait till they release more! So in these hc’s, I focused on both how you guys became friends and what you guys would do as best friends. Also, Akutagawa’s part got kinda long and more focused on how you guys became friends, hope that’s okay. Reader is gender neutral and hope you enjoy! Also after posting this, I saw that these got realllyy long. Hope that’s okay too!

Possible TW: mention of suicide, but nothing too heavy, and it’s in Dazai’s part

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2/DARK ERA ARC (I think it’s episode 13-16 if I’m not wrong, but if you haven’t watched it yet, skip Oda’s part)

Being Best Friends with Dazai, Chūya, Akutagawa and Oda HCs

Dazai

Can you say CHAOTIC ENERGY

Imagine just having a nonstop sugar rush

Actually, remember how he was after eating the mushrooms? That’s the kind of energy y’all radiate together

If you’re both in the ADA, you both goof off so much that you have to sit at separate desks alll the way on the other side of the room so that you can try to get your work done

The keyword being try

It doesn’t work

Poor Kunikida is going to pop a blood vessel at any second and everyone is so used to now that nothing even surprises them anymore

Oh, Kunikida is yelling at Dazai and (y/n) with smoke practically coming out of his ears? What else is new

Always going to the little cafe to slack off too

Messing with Atsushi also the highlight of both of your guys day

You guys have a mini competition going on which is: who can get/convince Atsushi to do their reports the most without getting caught?

You both get caught all the time (duh). Kunikida foams at the mouth for tricking poor Atsushi and the poor sap himself is ready to pass out

If you guys are both in the PM, imagine goofing and slacking off but on a darker scale

“Hey (Y/N)! Wanna know how many bones are exactly in the human body? ”

“Hm, I’m slightly disgusted but intrigued..continue.”

Also, pranking Chūya any chance you can get

You and Dazai together = the bane of Chūya’s existence

Surprisingly, no matter in the ADA or PM you don’t join him on the suicide attempts and you try to deter him from doing it in your presence at least

“Dazai, do you mind not trying to drown yourself in the river while we’re working a case? Besides, you already tried it before and it’s a pretty stale method.”

Cue dramatic gasps and antics from him again

He did try to convince you to join when you first met him, but changed his mind overtime when he started to enjoy your company

He’s smart enough to know what you’re saying, and he understands. At first, he wanted to leave this world by any means, but since you came into his life as once of the closest people to him since Oda, he perhaps doesn’t want to leave you just yet

He doesn’t stop the attempts but he does slow down on them

You still have to pretty much save him all the time still though

“Oh (Y/N)! My hero of a best friend, what would I do without you?”

And he wasn’t lying. He feel like he would be lost again if it wasn’t for you to help him keep grounded. Sure, you guys may create chaos together, but he would always keep you safe no matter what. He would put his life before yours, because you deserved it

You’re his best friend after all, and he’s not ready to lose you by any means if he can help it

And he’ll always have your back 100%

Chūya

Drinking buddies!

I mean seriously, you guys have left the bar or restaurants way past tipsy more than once

You guys definitely have impromptu fashion trips together (no matter how much he denies liking them)

“Hey! That was my last good vest! You’re buying me a new one, and I’m going with you to make sure you’re not being cheap with it either.”

Chūya if you just wanna spend some time together just say that lmao

If you’re in the PM, you guys are always working together. You might even be an executive working alongside him, but no matter what you guys are always on missions with one another

If you’re in the ADA: you guys bonded over Dazai. You were complaining about him while facing Chūya and he happened to agree and add on to the complaints

Boy was he holding onto some grudges

While you both understand that you have your own obligations and loyalties to worry about, it didn’t stop the friendship from growing

If you do have to fight him, he doesn’t go easy on you (he does have a job to do like you) but he doesn’t go out the way to try and kill you either

And you don’t let anyone try to kill him either

Low key turns into a competition

“You fight like an 86 year-old shortstuff!”

“Who are you calling shortstuff?! You weren’t saying that last time when I whooped your ass!”

Regardless, you definitely become like a diary to him, especially after you find out about Arahabiki (which he tells you about over time)

You make him feel human, and he’s forever grateful for that

Being best friends with Chūya can be difficult at times (if you’re on opposite sides) but regardless, you both look out for each other

No matter how annoying you are can be, Chūya cares for you. You’re one of the only people that he doesn’t have to worry about betraying him (what happened with The Sheep still gets to him from time to time)

He begrudgingly calls you his best friend, but never in front of you or other people because 1. If he did you would never shut up about it and 2. he doesn’t want to be seen as “weak” or “soft”

And 3. you don’t need to be put into anymore danger than you’re already in

But you already know that you’re his best friend, cause he’s yours and nothing is changing that

“You’ll be a dumbass if you think I’ll let anything happen to you. Besides, the only person who’s allowed to kick my best friend’s ass is me, and if anyone else tries to they’ll have to deal with me!”

“*GASP* you’re finally admitting that I’m your best friend?!”

“DON’T RUIN THE DAMN MOMENT (Y/N)!”

Akutagawa

Oh man, being his best friend is like a hard to unlock achievement

Congrats (Y/N) on even getting close to this man, let alone enough to build a bond

It’s easier on being friends with Akutagawa if you’re in the PM. Bonus points if you go on missions all the time

But I will say if you are in the ADA, the easiest way to bond with him is to show that you are a force to be wrecking with, and maybe if you hate Atsushi or something too lol

But: think of Pinky and the Brain, but with Aku threatening to kill you every day (spoiler alert: he never does)

The only way that I can see you guys building your friendship is if he sees you in action and how you constantly have his back

He hates it because he knows what he’s doing and he’s been doing it for a while. He’s not an incompetent child (Y/N)!

But as time passes, he slowly gets over it. Don’t get me wrong, he still claims that he hates you asking if he’s okay and telling to “watch out” and things of that nature. But he starts to realize that you know what you’re doing too, and that he also sees that you care about the other subordinates too

He still sees if a sign of weakness, but you came to the realization that he wasn’t purposely doing it to be an ass (but don’t get me wrong, he still has his moments) but that he truly didn’t understand. He never had someone show him that they care for him, and it made you heartbroken

So, you made it your own personal goal to become his friend. And he hated it

At first

It seemed like wherever he was, you were there like his shadow. Going to hunt someone down that didn’t pay his debt? You were there in the background. Walking with Gin to the dry cleaners? You were already there, holding their readied clothes. Going to try and kill the weretiger? You were waiting for him with the car ready to go.

Higuichi started to hate you, until you told her that you did not want him. You just saw that he needed a friend, and you even came to an agreement of sorts. Once you and Akutagawa become strictly friends, you could try and hook them up

You knew it wasn’t happening anytime soon but you didn’t want to crush her dream and you didn’t want a target on your head

You really had to pat yourself on the back, (Y/N). It took some time, but you finally did it! Akutagawa didn’t totally hate you anymore!

You came to this conclusion after one of your missions went south. Not only did you not get the information that Mori needed, but you came back with a bullet wound. Granted you got reprimanded, and after you got out the meeting, he was waiting outside. For you

“Maybe if you would stop acting so careless and focus on the mission, then you would have both succeeded and came back uninjured. It’s obvious that you need someone to watch over you like a child. Don’t embarrass me or I will end you myself.”

Shocked wasn’t the word. He was going to accompany you on all your missions now? Oh wow, is he finally-

“Stop standing there with your mouth open like an idiot (Y/N). You’re bleeding all over the place. Come, so that someone can dress your wound. We have more work now that I have to go behind and clean up your mess. And you’ll be coming with me, so hurry up.”

You smiled. Even though this bullet wound was hurting like hell, you were happy. Happy that, even in his own Akutagawa way, that he was starting to accept you and your friendship.

It would take a while for you to become best friends, but the way your partnership is now, you were fine with that. As long as he knew that someone was standing in his corner no matter what, you were happy.

And he would support you too, in his own Akutagawa way

Oda

(AGAIN: SPOILER ALERT FOR SEASON 2/DARK ERA ARC. SKIP ODA’S PART IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED IT)

Okay, this man is loyal no matter what

He has a good head on his shoulders, he’s understanding, doesn’t have a crazy temper like some people do, and he doesn’t kill anymore

Oda would be one of the best people to be best friends with

I personally believe that it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the ADA or the PM, he only cares about what type of person you are.

Curry buddies!

Also, just imagine telling each other book recommendations and just talking about books in general

You would even look at some of the writing he did have and just UGH

He just wanted to be a writer he deserved a happy ending

If you’re in the ADA, you guys met at the little curry spot he likes so much

You were on a case local to the area when you stopped to grab a bite to eat. You saw him eating the spiciest curry you ever smelt (seriously, you could smell it from where you were sitting!) without making a single face

When he saw you just gaping at him, he was...very confused. Until you finally asked how the hell he was eating that with no issues

“It’s not that bad, it’s pretty good really. If you want to try some I’ll pay for it.”

You took him up on the offer, cause it did look really good. And you have never made a bigger mistake than that

You had to drink so much milk afterwards

And the cook was damn near laughing in tears at you and Oda managed to crack a small smile at your exaggeration

“It’s not that bad.”

“WHAT- *COUGHCOUGH* EVER”

And that was the start of your wonderful friendship

He definitely is worried about the conflict of interest because of being in the PM himself and working directly with one of the most vicious executives to ever exist

Seriously, Dazai was still his friend but damn could he do some things that even he couldn’t stomach

And he couldn’t imagine what Mori would make him do if he found out he was being buddy buddy with the enemy

So he kept his distance at first until you saw the kids. His guard was up at first but when he saw how you interacted with them, it melted his heart (on the inside, he was still stone faced on the outside)

So you guys met up a couple of times each month in between jobs and missions

If you’re in the PM, you worked alongside him and related to his stance on not killing anymore. Granted, you both were working on the other side of justice, but if you guys could help it you wouldn’t create bodies if it didn’t have to be any

If you guys weren’t meeting at the curry spot, you were meeting about Bar Lupin

You supported him through and through, especially with his dream of becoming a writer. You even went out to the bookstore a couple of times to try and inspire him to write something for you to read

It didn’t matter if you were in the ADA or the PM, you encouraged him to follow his dream. And when he would look at you confused , and asked why you were doing this, you would always reply:

“I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I didn’t tell you to follow your dreams, now would I? You deserve it, Oda. You’re a good man, and that can’t be said about a lot of people, especially people in the Port Mafia.”

He really did care for you, and in his last final moments before Dazai got there, he thought about you, and how terrible he felt for leaving you behind.

He wanted you to know that he always appreciated you. You reassured him always, never doubting him, and there wouldn’t be enough thanks in the world for that

When you found out about his death, you were devastated. You didn’t want to believe it at first and you kept blaming yourself that maybe you could’ve convinced him more to leave the dangerous life behind and to pursue his dreams

Until you found a letter in your door, which was actually a short story written by him attached to a letter.

“Thank you for being the best friend a man could ask for. I will always appreciate you (Y/N), no amount of words can tell you how much I will. Thank you for letting me live out my dream, even if it was for a short time.”

It really confirmed it when Dazai arrived outside to tell you Oda’s fate, but he stopped once he saw you crying and clutching the letter in your hand

Much time has passed, and Oda’s death still haunts you. But, you continue to live for the both of your sakes. You even try to eat the spiciest curry at restaurants in his memory, but you can just see him shaking his head and cracking a small smile at your silliness

And you also remember his motto: limit to one curry meal per day (it’s silly, but it makes you feel better because it’s his silly motto and how serious he took it)

You even start to read more (and to specific, the series that he wanted to finish)

You see your life in brighter eyes now because of Oda. He was- actually still is- your best friend, and you will continue to live on in his memory

You just hate that you didn’t have the time to tell him how much you appreciated him being in your life, and how much of a positive influence he’s been as your best friend.

But that’s okay, because you think he already knows how much you do

#dazai x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #chuya x reader #bsd reader insert #akutagawa x reader #oda x reader #odasaku x reader #bsd odasaku #bsd dazai #bsd akutagawa #bsd chuuya #bsd chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs drabbles #bungou stray dogs headcannons #chuuya x reader

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kyunisixx · 4 years ago

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chiaroscuro

artist!Robert Plant AU one shot.

a/n: this really started out as a song I wanted to write. But I knew I had to turn it into a longer writing!!

themes: fluff, mild implications of nsfw and tw: childhood trauma.

summary: in which Y/N becomes a muse for Robert, a landscape artist in more ways than one. (Man, that summary is so shit but let's roll with it)

pairing: artist!Robert Plant x fem!reader

chi·a·ro·scu·ro

the treatment of light and shade in drawing and painting.

an effect of contrasted light and shadow created by light falling unevenly or from a particular direction on something.

"Lean back for me a bit more, darling. That's right, relax."

As she moves, the old sofa creaks beneath her. Chilled air gusts through a partially opened window, making her shiver and sending miniscule bumps all over her bare skin. Her eyes drift over the fixtures inside the cozy cabin, illuminated by an outmoded oil lamp situated on the man's table. Several tiny moths were floating around it as the flame wavered ever so slightly from the breeze.

Scattered were all paintbrushes and smudges of paint were messily smeared all over the table. A round board was placed so close at the edge (one she heard him call before —a palette). In the middle is a rustic cup with half-empty, now cold tea. But a paint-smudged hand grasped on its handle and swiftly brought it over to a mouth.

Then her eyes met his.

His frizzled, curly blond locks are pulled into a disheveled bun. One he pinned up so carelessly with a thin, unused paintbrush as to prevent it from obstructing his view but a few ringlets managed to escape and are now framing his face.

Ivory-colored shirt, a few buttons undone to reveal smooth skin of his collarbones which were also marked with a few shades of paint. Some scattered across his jawline to his cheek.

Lips are pursed and eyes are pulled into deep concentration, they are set into a particular part of her. As if to capture the exact curvature of the crease on her waist.

Salient was the cleft on his chin and the sharp edge of his cheekbones by the incandescent light lent by the lamp, making him look like a contrast between sinister and elegance.

He dipped a brush and carefully made short strokes on the canvas, pausing every now and then to look at her.

The sun was setting and the sky was shaded a dull gray, providing so little of brightness which seemed to have darkened even more being situated in a lush forest.

Many months ago at this time of the day, she would have just been getting up from her sleep. Wake up and get ready for a long shift. It was a routine she had gotten so used to every day.

Take a bath. Eat. Pick out an outfit. Put on makeup. Be into the persona.

She would become a completely different person as soon as she stepped into the establishment she knew for as long as she moved into the town a few months ago.

From having to move into different cities and using different names to hide her identity. All of it to escape the filthy and haunted ghost of her past.

Screaming. Glass breaking. Bruises. Slamming doors. All of the things a child shouldn't have to go through. She took a risk and ran away from it.

And here is where she ended up thirteen years later.

Lacklustre eyes unmoving as they steadily stared back at her in a blurry mirror inside the changing room. All the girls' chattering seemed to have been muted and faded in the background as she gazed at her reflection. She picked up the small item in her hand, before taking the cap off and swiped the crimson lipstick across her chapped lips, creating a thick shade.

"Y/N, you ready to go?"

She turned her head back to Don, the club manager. She smiled and moved her head in a single nod.

“Sure, Don. Just give me a short moment”. She adjusted the strap of her black velvet dress and walked on the familiar, dimly lit hallway. Her stilettos clapped quietly on the floor as she padded and stopped in front of a red curtain covering the doorway from the side to the stage.

"How's it going, folks? Alright, alright. I'd get right into it. This is the moment you've all been waiting for. The crowd favourite, slithers like a python, mistress of the night; Marilyn"

Then, she waited as the main lights switched off and took her cue to enter as smoke filled the platform. Coloured lights gleamed right through. She situated herself right in the middle then circled her hand on the pole as the first note of the song started to hum quietly. Like a distant patter of rain—calm before the storm. Her hips moved into the rhythm and fluidly sneaked around the pole as the cloud of smoke started to clear out. Gazing into the crowd of men, her blood-red lips quirk into a smirk.

It was the only time she knew she had complete power and control. And she relished it, savoring the potency.

Her hands smoothed all over her now slightly perspired skin as men clamored and hooted for her. Bills were haphazardly thrown into the dancefloor. Something that she wasn't used to when she first started, it made her feel cheap. Dirty. But her routine carried on almost every night, she eventually got used to it and had even grown to like it.

Then she spotted him.

Big ball of golden hair illuminated by stage lights. He was situated amongst the sea of predators, his eyes followed the fluidity of her movements. But what struck her the most was the way he was watching her. It wasn't shadowed by lust, but more of an intense wonder and curiosity. It was as if he was memorizing each part of her curves, but for another purpose.

Her gaze somewhat mirrored his. He definitely wasn't strange-looking. Hell, he might have been the most beautiful man she has ever seen. He didn't belong to a place where no good men wander around. Both his beguiling beauty and aura was completely out of place for such a place like this.

The song then came to a stop. Her number was over but her eyes remained locked with his. It was only then she came back to consciousness as Don's voice boomed into the large speakers, signalling the end of her performance. She collected the bills scattered on the floor and walked off the stage, throwing a last glance into the crowd as she took her exit.

He was gone.

He wouldn't show up for a couple of days. She was sure, of course. The moment she steps out, her eyes would already be skimming through the lounge, and would sigh in disappointment if she didn't spot any sign of him.

"Have you seen your mysterious man yet?"

One of the girls she was closest to, Hershey, asked as she counted the thick block of bills on her hand.

"He wasn't out there tonight"

"You could have been hallucinating. Anyway, you told me he was 'like an angel'"

Hershey laughed, mimicking the way she had said the last part with a breathy tone and added, "Or could have been disappointed in your dance number, ran away and swore to not step a foot into this place again"

She stopped momentarily, chuckled lightly and sighed, "You may not be far from the truth but we'll see."

Then he would be there the next night, positioned right at a table at the back. His curly locks gave his identity right away, with his elbows propped up and fingers poised against his chin, bearing the same gaze.

Later that night, he'd be waiting right outside of the club.

"The show was spectacular."

She tilted her head to him, nodded and smiled.

"Thank you."

She wasn't sure how it ended up with her sitting on a stool inside a cozy 24-hour operating diner so late at night, chatting with her "mysterious man" late at night, who introduced himself as Robert. He was apparently a landscape artist and has traveled the world where he finds inspirations for his works.

"The best place I have ever been to? Hm. I'd say Machu Picchu, set in the high mountains of Andes in Peru, above a river called Urubamba. I had to hike all the way up, and you could see the breathtaking view when you reach the top."

"That does sound very lovely." She sighed wistfully.

"Have you ever traveled anywhere outside the country?"

"Oh no, I have not. I move to different places a lot but I've never gone out, never had the chance to."

"Ah, you should! It's wonderful."

She nodded, "Do you only do landscaping?"

"Well, no. I do a little bit of abstract art but I focus mainly on landscaping. I was thinking of expanding more, though. Maybe portrait, or nude art."

"That's a good idea. An artist has to come out of his comfort zone and be able to become great."

"Yeah…", he trailed off, as if lost in thought. "I hope this doesn't come off as strange or I as a creep. But may I ask you to be my muse? Don't worry! We'll only do portrait." He added the last sentence quickly.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him, her brows furrowed deep in thought.

"You don't have to s—"

"I'll do it."

A few days later, she was again popped up on a stool inside his flat just a few blocks away from the club. His place was spacious, but had a very rustic feel to the interior design. A few souvenirs from different countries were neatly placed on a shelf and most of his paintings were hung stylistically on the walls (in which she stared at in complete awe for what she could tell an hour each painting until he had to drag her away to his studio)

Her fingers fiddled as she tried to stay still under his calculating gaze. She never had much problem with how she looked and never had insecurities. Perhaps she just didn't care enough to be insecure. But at that moment, she thought of how she must've appeared to him and if she was good-looking enough to be an inspiration for his art.

"Are you alright there?"

"Yes! Yes, I… Yeah I'm alright."

His hand stopped and placed the paintbrush on the table. "Are you sure? If you're not comfortable or if you need a break, we could stop for a bit."

She shook her head vigorously, "No, it's okay. Don't worry."

"If you say so."

She let her eyes travel from his bare foot, to his khaki trousers, to his satin shirt with top three buttons undone, to his face. Oh, his gorgeous face. It was pulled into a deep concentration as he stared at his work, giving her some time to study his majestic features.

His eyes flickered to hers as if sensing her stare and playfully frowned, a small smile curled on the side of his lips.

"What?"

He laughed, "You were staring."

"I was. Is it a crime?"

"No, I wouldn't say it is." He said with a teasing edge to his voice.

It was their arrangement which they stick to a few times a week. On her day off, after work if she wasn't feeling too exhausted. There was an obvious attraction lingering inside the room of his small studio but none of them acted upon it other than just casual flirtations thrown around. He was a perfect gentleman and had always been accommodating. A couple of times he would insist on paying her in which she would always refuse to accept.

"The tea you make for me is enough for a payment." She had jokingly said. "Do not worry about it, Robert. Really, it's okay. I'm making enough from my job."

One night, after their sessions, they had too many drinks and bottles were littered over the table along with his paint brushes which had long dried of paint.

"Tell me about you, Marilyn. Mistress of the night, who apparently, slithers like a python." He mused, mentioning her alias. His glossy eyes filled with mirth.

She snorted, took a long swig of beer and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

"Marilyn is… Nobody. I'm nobody. I came from somewhere that in my mind, ceased to exist." She stared ahead. "I ran away from home. Who calls it a home anyway?" She laughed humorlessly.

"My parents fought a lot. They spent so much time fighting, they didn't even have time for me. Looking back at it now, I could have just preferred that. But then, they turned their anger towards me." She sniffed and quickly wiped the salty tears before they even slid down to her flushed cheeks.

"I went to my grandparents. They loved me so much and I loved them so dearly. But they were not my parents. Eventually, both of them passed away and I was left on my own. But I was eighteen. I didn't have to go back to my parents. So I went to different cities, finding places where I could feel like I could fit in. Looked for jobs, and then I ended up here. I made friends and I have my own place, but it still never felt like home."

He was quietly staring at her, and the silence was deafening. Then he lifted his free hand to her face and ran the back of his index finger to dry her cheeks. Her hand caught his and brought it to her lips and placed a soft kiss.

"But with you, it feels… different. I like hanging out with you. I like being with you. You feel like home to me, Robert."

Her voice echoed softly as he took his time to reply. But he didn't, instead, he leaned down and sealed his lips against hers.

He layed limply on top of her body as he shuddered from his release. Both tried to desperately catch for their breath as her hand smoothed down his back and the other combed through his damp locks. He slid out of her and dropped beside her, not too long before he enclosed his arms over her and pulled closer. He catches her lips on his in a lazy kiss and smiled.

"You feel like home to me too, Y/N."

Her heart soared and nuzzled her nose against his.

"I want to paint you like this. May I? You are so beautiful. In light and in shadow."

She blushed, "Yes, but right now? I'm tired."

"No, no. We'll do it tomorrow. I'll take you somewhere." His warm breath hit her skin as he whispered.

"Where?" She whispered back.

"Well, I'm not telling you that. But it was what I helped my Father build when I was younger. It's somewhat like a special place for me, and I want you to see it."

He gazed at her as he waited for her to respond.

"Okay."

Under the light of the lamp, she peers at him under her lashes.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Mm? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You know what it is. Cut it out or I'll never get to finish this."

She huffs. "You're no fun"

"I can prove you otherwise in a few minutes."

He continued to do his finishing touches and leaned back to admire his work.

"That isn't too bad. But nothing compares to the real art."

"And what might that be?"

"You, my love." He stood up, walked over to where she was, placed his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her to him.

"I've been waiting for this for hours."

"I've been giving you hints and you insist on finishing your art."

He chuckled. "Of course I had to."

His fingers danced their way from her sides to her hips, rubbing along the marks littered across her skin.

"Are you ready to see it?" He murmured against her neck. She shudders as she nodded, giving their playful banter a break.

He bit her earlobe softly, "Okay."

He walked over to his canvas and carefully turned it around to face her.

She gasps.

⭐ writings list ⭐

taglist: @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @princesspagey , @ritacaroline , @jimmys-zeppelin , @rebel-without-a-zeppelin , @reincarnated70sbaby (if you wanted to be added in, let me know 🤘🏻🤗)

#robert plant x reader #robert plant #led zeppelin #fanfic #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin imagines #john paul jones #john bonham #jimmy page #fluff #cabincore #rustic #artist!au

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 21, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Reunions

All together in The Unclean Realm, The Yunmeng trio find a spot inside where they can sit down and have a proper Yanli-Wuxian reunion, while Jiang Cheng sits across the table watching them.

For years Jiang Cheng has been rejecting Wei Wuxian's free and easy affection; now Yanli might be the only person Wei Wuxian offers to hug until Wen Yuan comes into his life.

Jiang Cheng is really going through it. He'll do nearly anything for Yanli--except, uh, stay in the goddamn inn with her when she's sick and the Wens are hunting them--and what makes her happiest is Wei Wuxian. He's brought them together, and so he's happy, even though he's excluded from their dynamic. This absolutely fucking kills me.

Here Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are sweetly pledging to always keep the trio together and put each other first. Neither of them will keep this promise.

Wei Wuxian will leave first, to take the Wens to the Burial Mounds. Jiang Yanli will leave second, staying in Lanling at Jin Zixuan's request instead of accompanying Jiang Cheng to retrieve Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng will be the last to let go.

(more after the cut)

Nie Huaisang comes literally running in, filled with joy at Wei Wuxian's return. When he goes to pat his shoulder Wei Wuxian flinches away.

I feel like something important is happening in this rapid sequence of glances and expressions between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang. NHS is startled, and WWX realizes he's shown something about himself that he didn't want to show. He glances at Jiang Cheng and back at NHS before laughing and covering his slip with a squeeze of NHS’s hand.

NHS switches from shocked to cheerful just as quickly, helping with the coverup. It’s like they have a quick mutual agreement, rooted in their history of shared shenanigans, to not point out that something is wrong.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji is wandering around the grounds, having feelings. At this point it's presumably been at least a couple of weeks since their breakup fight.

He sees Wei Wuxian sitting contemplating his flute, and as he sees him he goes from sort of neutrally apprehensive to full on angry judging, complete with sword clenching.

Part of this may be that his feelings are hurt over their fight, but the larger issue is his distress over Wei Wuxian's apparent heretical cultivation. That, at any rate, is what's on his mind when he's selecting music, later in the episode, and when he's selecting flashbacks.

Party Time

Later, the Nies host an excruciating party to celebrate Wei Wuxian's slaughter of Wen Chao return. Jiang Yanli is sharing a table with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng is sharing a table with his crippling social anxiety.

Everyone starts grilling Wei Wuxian about his sword, because that's suddenly all anybody cares about even though Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao, and probably plenty of other people don't carry swords most of the time.

Wei Wuxian says "after the Wens caught me, Wen Zhuliu crushed my core, so I can't use my sword any more, too bad so sad, can we change the subject?" And everyone is very understanding and admires his resiliency. HA HA HA HA HA. Of course he doesn't opt for that simple lie, but instead mopes audibly without saying anything.

Nie Huasiang tries to change the subject by asking how he killed Wen Chao. Apparently "I had a sexy ghost mostly flay him" isn't good party chat, though, so neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Cheng opts to tell the story.

Everyone lapses into awkward silence, all the more noticeable because there are no dancers, musicians, or entertainers of any kind at this event. OP has gone to audit-kickoff meetings that were more fun than cultivator banquets.

Moment of Clarity

While the awkwardness builds, we hear the sounds of the Song of Clarity. Lan Wangji is skipping the party, which is part of why Wei Wuxian is so mopey. But instead of sitting and stewing in his anger, Lan Wangji has shifted gears, and is starting to work on his "save Wei Wuxian's soul" plan.

This isn't the God-botherer version of soul saving, however. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian disagree about correct practice, but they both are still practitioners within the same spiritual system, and the majority of their beliefs are closely aligned.

Lan Wangji has powerful magic at his disposal, and now he's taking a step back from his plan of forcing persuading Wei Wuxian to give up heterodoxy, and instead he's preparing to use his magic to offset the consequences of Wei Wuxian's choice.

He still isn't ready to accept that choice, but he's working on it. This is a big moment for Lan Wangji's relationship with Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji is a deeply, deeply uncompromising person, as well as being super bossy, and he’s taking his first steps toward supporting Wei Wuxian’s free agency.

Wei Wuxian leaves the party in the middle of Yao's toast, saying "I have to see you and your lover all over my tumblr dashboard but I am NOT going to listen to you talk!" He takes his wine to go roam around near Lan Wangji's quarters to pine and feel conflicted. Lan Wangji has thoughtfully set up a projection scrim to catch his shadow and make the pining easier.

Jiang Cheng comes looking for Wei Wuxian, partly to reprimand him for rudeness and partly to see what the hell is wrong with him. Jiang Cheng is trying very hard to be pleasant. He's bad at it, but he's trying.

Wei Wuxian is trying to be unpleasant and he's pretty good at it. He won't say why he isn't using his sword. He’s obviously super fucking depressed about it, calling his former self childish for liking to spar, and only smiling once during the whole exchange.

He finally tells Jiang Cheng that he will always want to do the opposite of what Jiang Cheng tells him. Jiang Cheng lets this go with an eyeroll.

(Point Break Quote Alert)

But actually this is a sign of trouble, right here in River City, with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for abandoning the Jiang Clan. Wei Wuxian has just told Jiang Cheng he has no intention of obeying him; not just about the sword, but in general. That's no way for a disciple to talk.

OP has nothing to say about this gif. OP watches gif over and over and over and over

Wei Wuxian ends the conversation by tapping Jiang Cheng's chest with his flute and then walking away. The (still nameless) flute has no problem with this - does it, like Subian, recognize Jiang Cheng as an extension of Wei Wuxian?

The next day, Wei Wuxian is chilling in his room, looking ungodly sexy in his bold slashed robe, holy frack. I mean, he is sex-on-toast at all times, but the cut of his post-burial-mounds combo is particularly heart-stopping when he decides to stick a knee or two out.

He's meditating and flashing back to being in the burial mounds, where he was also meditating. I admire his ability to fractally meditate about meditating.

Chenqing

He didn't put a sock on the doorknob, so Jiang Yanli comes in and startles him. He brandishes his flute at her before calming down. The flute definitely does not see her as an extension of Wei Wuxian, because when she touches it, it smokes and then knocks her out of the frame so fast it's comical.

Did they put her in a jerk vest for that shot?

Wei Wuxian hides the flute from her, freaked out by its behavior. She, however, is unfazed, and gives him the first & only affirmation he's gotten about his new cultivation path, and says the flute is "like Mother's Zidian." She kind of walks him through the whole "first class spiritual tool" concept, beaming with approval and telling him he must name the flute.

Jiang Yanli is hardcore Jiang Clan, seriously. Freedom and impossibility. You survived 3 months of mystery trauma and now you're all fucked up? We'll roll with it. You have a demon flute now? Rock on. You're going to use necromancy to beat the other clans in a group hunt? Gold star for you.

He names the flute Chenqing, which @hunxi-guilai translates and explains in depth over here.

Bichen

Lan Wangji has finished practicing the Song of Clarity, and regardless of whether it's had an effect on Wei Wuxian, he himself seems much calmer.

As Wei Wuxian contemplates Chenqing, Lan Wangji contemplates Bichen and remembers Wei Wuxian's assertions about resentful energy way back in Gusu summer school.

This time when he grips his sword, it's loosely, as if he's made some progress with his anger.

Soup

Jiang Yanli sits Wei Wuxian down for some soup, and talks to him about what's going on with him, saying he's changed. He insists he's fine and works very hard to be convincing.

She's not convinced but says she won't press him, and then abruptly shifts tone and works very hard to act like everything is fine. She leaves, taking a lot of soup with her, and Wei Wuxian remarks that it's unfair she is giving so much to Jiang Cheng. But of course, some of it is secretly for Jin Zixuan.

Everything isn't fine, as Wei Wuxian scream-meditates with resentful energy just rolling off of him. He's got some of the dark energy stored in the Yin sword in his bag of holding, but I get the impression that a lot of it is just stored in his body.

Club Ruohan

At some point in the episode we stop in to check on Wen Ruohan. He and his wind machine are mad that Wen Chao is dead.

Meanwhile, his interpretive dances with the Yin iron now turn his puppets into...Klingons? Sure, why not.

Literal Stand-Up Meeting

Jiang Cheng needs Wei Wuxian at games night a meeting and comes running to Jiang Yanli to find him. He is freaking out and she tells him to chill.

No matter what fuckery is going on in the world, Jiang Yanli is going to find herself a nice little outdoor table and she is going to sit her ass down and have some tea and civilized lady activity. Queen.

This shot of the meeting is composed so nicely. The blocking (placement of actors) in this scene encapsulates the familial dynamics, and I’ll talk about that as soon as I finish admiring Jiang Cheng’s proportions.

Here we have four clans represented by four family pairs around the game war table. The Jin cousins, despite their differing personalities, are side by side, matchy-matchy, in lockstep. Jin Zixuan lets Jin Zixun do the talking for him, so maintains his own rep as a reasonable guy.

The Nie brothers are even closer together, also in matching greys, Nie Huaisang giving all of his attention to his brother/clan leader. You can see his careful watching of his brother's temper...not fearful for himself, but fearful for Mingjue.

The Lan brothers have a growing distance between them; they are in different colors (which is pretty usual for them), and Lan Wangji is standing well away from his brother and the rest of the group. Partly this is his personality, but it's also symbolic of his growing distance from his brother and other proper cultivators. He's carrying WWX-related secrets, and he's wrestling with what he's learned.

While Nie Huaisang is looking at Mingjue, Lan Xichen is turning around to see what's up with his own volatile sibling.

Lastly you have Jiang Cheng, alone in the room, with his shidi nowhere to be found, and seriously feeling the heat because of his isolation.

He's alone in his purple, but the color value (lightness/darkness) of his robes exactly matches Xichen's.

And Xichen, bless him, makes a point of speaking to him respectfully as a fellow clan leader, gives him a path out of the "where is your brother" conversation, and is just generally his kind and helpful self with Jiang Cheng.

Next: Awkwardness Increases!

#the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #the untamed meta #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #restless rewatch the untamed #my gifs #canary3d-original

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nikethestatue · 4 years ago

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Spy Games

Elriel Month - Day 3

Spying

Spying Lessons

Elain, the pretty, polite, courteous sister, who spoke well and moved gracefully, was also one who was never considered with any seriousness by anybody. Not her mother, not their weak, gentle father, not the imperious, sharp-tongued Nesta, or the self-assured, determined Feyre. However, she was a merchant’s daughter, and she was as sharp-eyed, as Nesta was sharp-tongued.

She inherited the trait from their father--he was always able to spot a deal, or a weakness, a loophole and he used it to his full advantage when making deals. She watched him, and learned how to use her words, how to compliment and smile, how to appear innocent and helpless, while seeking favors and looking to get what she wanted. It worked. It worked with everyone--it worked with Nesta, worked with their servants (when they had them), and when they didn’t, and had nothing, Elain always managed to charm someone at the market for an extra apple, a couple of bread rolls, or a swath of cloth. Even Lord Nolan was not immune to her charms, and even though there were better offers from others, he encouraged Greyson to court Elain, despite her family's ‘reputation’. Elain loved Greyson, but she also watched and noticed. She saw groves of ash trees, the number of sentries patrolling the walled estate, and how many guard dogs there were. She didn’t even try, but she noticed...and counted...and remembered.

Nuala was good. Smooth and discrete, she’d never be suspected of keeping tabs on Amren. Though Amren was a vengeful Angel of a young god in her previous life, and she probably knew what Nuala was doing. Yet, Nuala was not so good as to suspect Elain. Because Elain knew as well. It came as a surprise, but it was apparent to Elain that Nuala closely monitored Amren, as well as Varian, when they were around.

They were making lemon cakes in the kitchen--Elain and the twins. Baking and cooking--many assumed that that’s what Elain was good for--the kind, tidy, domestic Elain. What no one, except for one person, was privy to was that these chores quieted the roaring in Elain’s head. They silenced the visions, cleared the pounding in her skull, gave her a sense of normalcy, even if for only a little while.

“What do you think Varian reports to his High Lord?” the question startled the twins and they exchanged quick looks.

Elain’s face remained placid, as she busied herself with grating lemon zest. “Do you think they laugh?” she chuckled. “Our court is dramatic, to be sure.”

The twins were silent.

“Is it wise though,” she continued, uninterrupted, “to have a representative of another Court so closely entwined with the affairs of the Night Court?”

“The High Lord trusts Prince Varian,” said Cerridwen, her voice neutral.

“Perhaps.”

Elain stirred the zest into the custard and there was silence, the twins assuming that the conversation was over.

“Does Azriel?” she suddenly asked.

They stared.

“Does Azriel trust Varian?” she pressed.

“The lord,” began Nuala, but Elain interrupted. “Not High Lord,”

“Lord Azriel,” corrected Nuala, “does what he must to keep the Night Court safe.”

That explained everything.

“Could Azriel use another pair of eyes and ears?” Elain didn’t even know where the offer came from. Perhaps, it stemmed from the desire to be useful, to offer something of herself that so few knew that she even possessed. She turned to the twins and stared them down, her gaze unflinching.

“Teach me,” she pleaded. “Teach me what you know. What and how you do it. Please.”

“Lord Azriel may not approve,” countered Cerridwen softly.

“Let’s not tell him,” whispered Elain,

“Lord Azriel will know.”

“Eventually. I am not asking you to lie to him,” she added quickly, sensing that this was the reason for their hesitation. “Just don’t tell him. Not yet. Teach me, a little something, and then I’ll decide if it’s for me. Please. I,”

“Fine,” said Nuala. Cerridwen gave her a silent look of admonishment and surprise, but did not argue. Perhaps that would come later. “We’ll teach you the way he taught us.”

“Yes!” Elain’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Goodness, she hadn’t felt this excited in….well, forever.

The lessons were not what she expected, but she did not question them.

There were no weapons, or peeking through peepholes, or breaking locks.

At first, it was a little bit boring even. Odd requests, such as making conversations with random faeries--in the park, on the street, at the markets. The twins would point out a fae and order Elain to go and start a conversation. It lasted for weeks, and she even grew frustrated, thinking that they were just humoring her and these ‘lessons’ were nothing but a game. Until one day, Nuala told her to obtain specific information. She pointed at an elderly male Fae and requested, “Approach. Come back with the following information--did he serve in the first War, what rank, does he have children, how many, and what is his favourite breakfast?”

“What?” Elain stared in confusion, but Nuala’s face remained inscrutable.

“Is there a problem?” asked Nuala. Her tone of voice...well, the tone was very much Azriel’s.

Elain shook her head and said, “no��, before crossing the street and approaching the male fae.

The realization that she could do this was thrilling. At once, she understood why she spent all those weeks approaching and making conversations with all those fae. She found ways, ways to ingratiate herself to them, to mark something small, but unique to each one, and then weave a connection around that tiny tidbit. It worked every time.

The elderly male fae had a small, but noticeable limp. This was Elain’s opening. He was hauling a basket of groceries, and she approached gently, offering help. Oh, he couldn’t possibly trouble such a pretty lady. And she was a High Fae to boot. No, no, thank you, he could manage. Not a problem at all, she was walking that way anyway. What was he making for dinner with all those vegetables? Oh, soup? Did the wife send him to the market? Oh, a widower? So sorry. Were there children to assist? Three? That’s good that they helped out…

“He was a Captain in the Third Legion during the first War. He is a widower, with three children--two male, and one female. Three grandchildren as well. He usually eats leftovers for breakfast, because he is too lazy to cook, but his favorite breakfast are almond croissants from the Brea Bakery,” reported Elain.

A small, satisfied smile touched Nuala’s lips.

So the lessons continued. She was ordered to obtain more detailed information, and in places which were harder to access. She did. Sometimes, she failed, but rarely.

In addition, Cerridwen began training her on walking.

Walking?

Walking.

“Make your presence unknown,” she explained and Elain only nodded. Sure, she would learn to walk, if that’s what was required. She learned how to roll her feet in such a manner that they were completely silent with every step that she took. Learned how to notice her own body, its presence, and the space that it occupied. And learned how to make it unknown. How to melt into shadows, stand near someone and have them be unaware of her, sneak quietly into rooms and spaces. It took a month, maybe longer. Meanwhile, she learned other tricks. How to swap papers, how to pull documents with a flick of her wrist, how to read upside down (very difficult).

“Could you take this to Lord Azriel please,” Cerridwen handed Elain a folder.

“Um...yes, of course,” Elain took the folder, a bit surprised that Cerridwen couldn’t deliver it herself, but by the time she was going to ask, Cerridwen had disappeared.

First things first--Elain didn’t know where Azriel was.

The River House was enormous, so she started with Rhysand’s office, but it was empty. She peeked out into the garden, but only saw baby Nyx and his nanny, who was attempting to contain Nyx on a picnic blanket, and failing. Elain smiled. Nyx crawled like a fiend and made an aggressive beeline towards the fluffy peonies. No doubt, they’d be trampled and pulled soon enough. Especially, if the nanny wouldn’t take her eyes off the handsome delivery male who was standing by the gate and flirting with her.

Elain closed her eyes. Smell. Sense. They haven’t gotten that far in their training yet, but Azriel’s scent--oh, she knew it well. The most delicious scent to ever hit her nostrils. The one scent that she craved and hungered for above all others. Even in this huge house, she could isolate Azriel’s scent, as it rose above all others, at least for her. The strongest trail led to Azriel’s bedroom, which was unsurprising, even if he did not spend much time here anymore. He and Rhysand met to discuss matters of state, and then there were the mandatory ‘family dinners’ that Azriel attended. They used to be obligatory, but after the last Solstice, they became mandatory, by order of the High Lord.

No, Azriel wasn’t in his bedroom. She followed the scent down the hallway, past the drawing room, then up the side stairs. Ah. She should’ve guessed. There was a terrace that overlooked the garden that Azriel favored. Sometimes, she thought that he observed her from there, when she tangled with weeds and seeds. But that couldn’t be. Not after the fiasco during the last Solstice and him pulling away from her with no explanation. A momentary lapse of reason on his part.

She spotted the spread of his wings. A smile touched her lips. How things were different before, when he was so comfortable around her. When he’d come and sit with her in the garden, sunning his wings, doing his work, both of them enjoying each other’s company without the need to talk. All of that somehow crashed and burned, and she didn’t know why and how to bring that intimacy back.

“Azriel,” she said, “Cerr,”

Azriel flinched and whipped his head to her. His eyes blew wide at the sight of her, standing in the doorway.

“Elain...Phhh, you startled me….” he muttered hoarsely.

And the Spymaster of the Night Court shifted with discomfort.

She had surprised him.

“Sorry,” she murmured and handed him the folder. “I apologize. Cerridwen asked me to give this to you.”

He was still staring at her, as if processing what had occurred. His hazel eyes raked over her body, settling on her feet for a few moments. It was like he was trying to discern how she managed to approach him so silently.

“Umm, thank you,” he said and opened the folder. It was empty.

Neither one said anything to each other, and Elain turned and stepped back into the house, her cheeks flushed.

As she hurried down the hall, Cerridwen and Nuala both appeared in front of her, grins plastered on their lovely angular faces.

“What?!” she snapped.

The grins widened.

“There was nothing in the folder!” she exclaimed, irritated.

“No,” agreed Cerrdiwen. “But you passed the first phase of your training.”

“You surprised Lord Azriel.”

#elriel #elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #azriel #azriel and elain #elain archeron #spymaster #elain x azriel #elain x nuala x cerridwen #nuala and cerridwen #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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ironlime · 4 years ago

Text

60 Years After

So somebody in the tumblrverse posted about their headcannon in which Ned Coats was Sam Vimes' kid having traveled through time. I am a fan of this. It explains a lot. So when I read it back in... April? I then sat down and wrote up this little fanfic thing. And assumed that I could not only get it posted today, but also edit it so that it's not filled with so many of my own headcannons. And is closer to the original material. But L-Space is my job, and it really does do crazy things to time (and space.) On top of that I was really hoping I could post this to that original headcannon post but... I can't find it. So, OP, if you come across this... Well, I'm sorry. I'm more sorry to Sir Terry (GNU), though.

Quick note: my friends and I have found it easier to call Vimes' kid "Wee Sam" than "Young Sam" because "Young Sam" is one of the names (along with Vimesy and Lance Constable Vimes) that Vimes calls his younger self and... yeah. We find it confusing when nerding out about a single series with two different characters called 'Young Sam'. So we Feegle it up. Even though I wouldn't be surprised if 'Wee Sam' is actually a bit taller than his dad.

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

“What happened just then, Sarge? You blurred.” Wee Sam said, while he thought Oh so that’s what that looks like.

“You only get one question, Ned,” The man who would be his father looked a little seasick, and Wee Sam knew exactly how he felt. “Now, let’s show Snapcase where the line’s drawn, shall we? Let’s finish it--”

To the majority of people there that day, Sergeant-At-Arms John Keel stood, turned towards the enemy, and charged. To two people, Commander Sam Vimes ran towards Carcer, ready to drag him kicking and screaming into the past. Or the future. Depending on who you asked.

That was what gave Wee Sam his frame of reference, actually. He remembered hearing stories about Carcer, about how his dad had arrested the bastard the day Wee Sam was born. But was this actually May 25th for his dad? Was this weeks before the arrest? Hours? He couldn’t ask. Not yet.

“Glad to see you’ve joined us and are getting along with the Sarge, Coats.” Fred Colon said, touching him on the shoulder as they ran towards the fight.

“Yeah, Fred.” Oh, Fred. Fred Colon had died a few years ago, happy and surrounded by great-grandchildren. But here and now he was young and actually capable of running. And he was running towards the fray.

Sweeper had told Wee Sam to stay away from the center of the fight, and to try not to actually kill anybody, so he stayed on the edge near the unconscious Lance-Constable Sam Vimes who had been hidden by his older, more cynical self. Three men in a battle with the same name, and two of them were the same person. Good thing Wee Sam was the only one who had to really keep track of which of them was where. He certainly didn’t trust anybody else to.

So he fought, in a very curbed way, knocking his adversaries unconscious when he could and doing his best not to step on Nobby Nobbs, who was doing his best to very slowly inch away from the battle while simultaneously pretending to be a corpse. Over by the Watch House, Reg Shoe was doing a much better impersonation of a corpse, seeing as how he was one, but in a couple of hours he’d discover that it just didn’t work for him.

“You’re nicked, my ol’ chum.” It was probably because he had been listening for it, but his father’s whisper carried. Nobody else seemed to hear it, and nobody but Wee Sam turned in time to see the two men vanish. In the same instant, a single body appeared on the ground near where they had been. So, now that he had seen that through, there was one more…

A dark grey-green shadow passed by his shoulder, and his mind registered Uncle Havelock before adding the word Young.

Havelock Vetinari ran into the fight, cutting down Carcer’s men much more brazenly than the Assassin's Guild would like, a lilac bud between his teeth. Even in Wee Sam’s time, when Vetinari’s wardrobe consisted entirely of black and everything he did was in moderation, the Patrician indulged in a little drama on a regular basis.

He chose to have Commander Sam Vimes in his life, after all.

There was a sound to Wee Sam’s left, which he recognized though his mind didn’t associate any words with it. It was a sound any human would recognize, even those who first approached the Delta where the Ankh River met the Circle sea thousands of years ago. If Wee Sam had to find Morporkain words for it, and as a Vimes he did like to use his vocabulary, they were Confused, followed by Hurt followed by… wait for it… there it was. Anger.

Wee Sam could make that noise, though he rarely did. His father’s upbringing, on the other hand, had been considerably less balanced. The kid who was the source of the sound ran into the center of the fight, and Wee Sam deftly stepped out of his way while pushing an adversary in his way. The boy chopped down the Unmentionable with one graceful movement, and Wee Sam felt that he could safely say that he hadn’t been the one to kill the bastard. And nobody had been so foolish as to tell him to prevent his father from killing anybody.

Vetinari didn’t pause, but he did turn to look at this vengeful newcomer. Vetinari hadn’t been there when young Sam Vimes participated in the first part of the battle, and Wee Sam recognized the young assassin’s look of interest.

Tell me, Uncle Havelock, will you recognize him in 15 years? Or will you need to get him well and truly angry to realize you’ve found him?

Wee Sam knew this wasn’t the first time Havelock Vetinari saw Sam Vimes, but this was probably the first time he saw the potential. That he was more than just That Kid Who Follows Keel Everywhere. I bet you didn’t actually expect him to be so damned smart. His father still didn’t think of himself as intelligent. It was infuriating, especially when he and his father were having a disagreement. A drawn out, decade-long, disagreement.

Young Sam Vimes sent a lot of the Unmentionables running, and Wee Sam cut down any of them which could be seen as ‘coming towards him with a drawn weapon’. Since they were escaping a fight, that was anyone who came within reach not wearing a lilac.

Time travel really can get to a man. He thought, feeling a little cold. There would be no arrests here, just death and fleeing and at the end of the day Sam Vimes, Havelock Vetinari, Fred Colon, Gaskin, and, less literally, Nobby Nobbs and Reg Shoe would all be left standing. That was all that mattered.

He saw Vetinari turn away from young Sam Vimes, who then spun, and for the briefest moment they had their backs to each other, and Wee Sam wished he had his paints. It was a gods awful place to paint, there was a reason battles were always ‘immortalized’ after the fact, but the color and everything was just perfect--

And then the color faded.

“You should have fallen by now.” Sweeper observed from behind him.

“I wanted to see them fight together.” Wee Sam admitted, not turning. He had a notebook on him, and a pencil, but he knew that even with Time paused he didn’t really have it. Not to sit down and do a proper preliminary sketch. He was just going to have to remember.

Vetinari had a stiletto, an assassin’s weapon used to kill up-close. Young Sam Vimes hadn’t learned to dual-wield yet, but he had good instincts for the sword. Wait until you discover the axe.

Sweeper sighed. “Fine, and now you’ve seen it. I’m going to put the time back on and you had better be prepared to drop.”

“Yes yes alright.” Wee Sam shifted slightly, so he could seriously inconvenience the man who he was blocking before he dropped.

“Oh and stop killing people.”

“I’m a Vimes. You knew that when you hired me.”

“Indeed.” Sweeper said, and it took Wee Sam a moment to realize it was an attempt at a Vetinari impression. Before Wee Sam could reply, the color came back, and his adversary frowned in confusion.

“Oi, you blurred!” The man cried.

“This just isn’t your day.” Wee Sam gave the man a wound which might heal, if somebody tended to it within the next 10 minutes, and then fell over in a needlessly complicated way, specifically so he wouldn’t hit Nobby Nobbs.

And when he landed, the boy was looking right at him, frowning. Damn, Nobby was always the brains of Colon & Nobbs.

“You ain’t injured.” The boy hissed at him.

“Try to pick my pockets and you’ll regret it.” Wee Sam whispered back. Of course he wouldn’t dream of hurting Nobby, but the kid didn’t know that. Besides, picking the contents of his pockets back would be a relaxing way to end the day.

Nobby was still frowning at him. “You got eyes like the Sarge...”

“Nobby, get out of here before you get stepped on.” Wee Sam growled in his best imitation of his father, the Sergeant, within the past three days. The kid’s eyes went wide, and he took off running. Wee Sam glanced over to where Vimes and Vetinari were taking care of the last of Carcer’s men, and the color faded once more.

“I hope you are pleased with yourself.” Sweeper said, which Wee Sam took to mean he could stand up and dust himself off.

“Young Vimes and Vetinari live to grow up and become two of the most powerful men in Ankh-Morpork history, Carcer went back to his time more or less accompanied by my my dad so the one can be arrested by the other, your rogue ‘Time Vigilantes’ have been sorted out, oh and I don’t cease to exist either. My work here is d--” He stopped, and watched as Q and some other Technical Monks lay down a man about the same age, size and coloring as Wee Sam. “Wait, so there really was a Ned Coats?”

Sweeper had walked off without him, and Wee Sam jogged to catch up. The old monk didn’t turn to look at him when they were side-by-side, but he did start talking. “Of course there was. He was also from Psudopolis and knew the real Keel.”

“How’d he die?”

“The Agony Aunts, on his first day here. He was the real reason the real Keel accepted a job in Ankh-Morpork. The real Ned Coats was not a good man.”

“Keel... left his home to track down a criminal…” Wee Sam slowed. “That’s what my dad did! As Keel! Only, it was Carcer he had to catch.”

“Time likes continuity.” Sweeper nodded, and thanked Wee Sam quietly for holding the door open as they entered the monastery. Once in the building, color returned, with motion and sounds and smells. They were back in the Present.

The walk through the building was in relative silence, the rumbling of the procrastinators keeping it from ever becoming truly quiet here. Wee Sam could sleep almost anywhere, but the rumbling reminded him of the steam engines back home and Susan’s offer to help him find a job in Sto Lat ‘if he really couldn’t stay in Ankh-Morpork’.

Not long after his parents first met his dad had gotten fired for a couple of days, and his mom had offered to get him a job working for Susan’s parents. Susan had been young then, and sometimes he wondered what kind of person she would have grown up to be with his dad as part of her household staff.

Of course, with his parents living in two different cities, he would have never been born.

His mother would have never left Ankh-Morpork.

Then again, his father had chosen not to leave. He had stayed on the case. He… sorted it out, more or less. He kept Vetinari from getting killed. Had he done that during the battle? Young Sam and Vetinari had been facing opposite directions, had Vimesy blocked any blows aimed at the future patrician?

There was the crunch of stones under his feet, and Wee Sam consciously acknowledged they had arrived at the Garden of Inner-City Tranquility. His eyes swept the space, falling on and acknowledging the Cigarette Pack of Air, the Cat Doings of Disharmony, the Sonkie of Organic Harmony, the Cabbage Stalks of Dim Comprehension, the Discarded Fish-And-Chip Wrapper of Infinity, the Beer Bottle of Pissing Off Sweeper, and….

“The Cigar of Capriciousness is still here.” Wee Sam said, stopping between the door and the bench Sweeper always went to. He tilted his head slightly. “Or… Another cigar. Same brand, same style, smoked the same amount, probably by the same man, at the same angle... but it’s wrapped just a little differently.”

“Is it? I’ve stopped noticing.”

“You haven’t noticed the cigar that’s been smouldering here for the past month?” Wee Sam turned to Sweeper in disbelief. “I understand not paying attention to the condoms and cat doings, but time passes in here!”

Sweeper shrugged. “There is always a cigar. Even if we get rid of it, a new one shows up. If the new one lands closer to the wall, the garden always pushes it to the center.”

“Always? Since, what, the dawn of time?”

“Oh no. Since the day you were born. Or thirty years before. It’s hard to say.” Sweeper was looking at him evenly, and Wee Sam suddenly realized his reaction was being gauged.

“My dad. But…” Wee Sam looked at the cigar. “He doesn’t smoke them anymore.”

“He does. On special occasions.”

“Like what?”

“Your birthday. And when he pays certain visits.”

“He talked you into not keeping me on?” His gaze moved swiftly from the old man to the cigar, and with purpose he stalked into the middle of the garden and brought his foot back, prepared to give the thing a swift kick.

“You did that just fine without his help.” Sweeper’s voice was quiet, but it froze Wee Sam where he stood. “Corporal, we both know you don’t want to do this.”

“The mission is over. Coats is dead. I’m not a corporal anymore.” His foot fell heavily, not coming into contact with the cigar but still sending a spray of stones ahead of them. He scowled as they came sliding back towards him, settling where they had been around his foot. “This job is the closest I’ve ever gotten to what I was made to do.”

“I realize that. I’m sorry.”

There was some silence as the last of the stones slid into place. The procrastinators here were small, used only for the bathrooms in the far right corner, even though the city’s sewer pipe system now meant that they were just inconveniencing themselves in exchange for saving very little money. Wee Sam had done the math.

“Did you tell Susan?” Wee Sam didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but he also didn’t want anybody else to explain that he had squandered this opportunity.

“No. That is your problem, my boy.”

“Good.” Wee Sam squatted down, getting a closer look at his father’s cigar. The smell brought him back to his childhood, and it was comforting if not at all healthy. His mother had never allowed them in the house, but his father smoked them all the time outside and in his office, so the scent clung to his uniform like… Well like Wee Sam had back then. “Please don’t hold… me... against her. She was just looking out for me. She does that. Wish I knew why.”

“She is aware of your potential.” Sweeper said, and Wee Sam was so surprised he looked over his shoulder at the old man. “You’re good at investigating and putting the pieces together. And, some day, you will once again make a very good cop.”

“Someplace other than Ankh-Morpork.” Wee Sam grunted, but the old man shrugged, and he asked, hopefully “In Ankh-Morpork but in the future?”

“That is not for me to say.”

“No, it’s for my father to say.” He glared at the cigar, and then pushed himself to a standing position.

“You know, I didn’t just take you on because Susan asked and there happened to be another Vimes-shaped opening.” Sweeper said as Wee Sam turned towards the door.

“No?”

“I wanted to get to know the man the Theives Guild deemed ‘too dangerous’ for membership.” Sweeper sounded amused, and Wee Sam turned to look at him.

“I keep killing people. Assassin's school graduate, and all.” Wee Sam reminded him, but Sweeper waved the comment away.

“We both know neither of those things are relevant to today’s theive’s guild.” Sweeper shook his head. “Your father is afraid of you becoming him; and, well, so is everyone else. Vimeses walk in and take control. Especially under Vetinari’s influence.”

“And how do you know what my father is afraid of?” Wee Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. He was choosing to ignore the comment about Vetinari’s influence because it was true. After 300 years of cops and / or drunks it took Havelock Vetinari telling his father ‘not’ to investigate three deaths to bring his family name back to the list of the city’s gentry.

“You should ask him.” Sweeper did not ignore the narrowed eyes, but he did meet them evenly. “What he’s afraid of.”

Wee Sam turned towards the door, intending to stalk out, then thought better of it and spun so he was completely facing the old man. “You know what? I think I will.”

Then he ran, took a leap to place one foot on the bench beside Sweeper and jumped so his hands easily grasped the top of the wall. His own momentum brought him sideways, and he hurtled over the top. There was an alley on the other side, and he landed lightly. He was exactly where he expected to be, of course, and took off at a run towards the Cemetery of Small Gods.

And slowed to a walk before he reached the gates. It would not do for him to be out of breath when he arrived at the graves.

Twilight was falling, so his dad would be there, but so would Uncle Havelock and maybe Reg Shoe. Wee Sam was less concerned about how Reg saw him, especially now that he had seen Reg alive, but as far as his family was concerned he wanted to take steps towards appearing dignified. Even though they had known him his whole life, and knew better.

Sure enough, he passed Reg first. The Zombie was carrying a long-handled shovel over his left shoulder, and nodded in acknowledgement. Wee Sam managed to nod back before they passed each other.

He had expected Reg to recognize him. Reg had never noticed him behind the barricade, his father never noticed him behind the barricade, but Wee Sam had been playing Ned Coats for a full month before Sam Vimes had shown up as John Keel. Maybe Reg had never noticed that his father was Keel? How did Zombie memories work, anyway? Their brains certainly weren’t making new pathways… Did vampyre brains make new pathways?

This train of thought kept him pretty well occupied, along with the question of how he could politely go about getting some answers, when he noticed Uncle Havelock and his ‘cane’ striding silently towards him. A simple nod wouldn’t do.

“Good evening, Uncle Havelock.” Wee Sam called, since his mother had drummed into his head that you always greeted your superiors first. Admittedly, this sometimes meant that he approached his uncle with a question about what he would call the color of the sunset above a specific building at that exact moment, or if there was a poison which exploded in a particularly satisfactory fashion, but the patrician never complained. Nor did he complain if Wee Sam wandered in his office and started talking about alternative methods for coding clax messages or an unusual bird he had noticed riding the thermals above the University. And, thank gods, Havelock Vetinari knew that a formal greeting from Wee Sam Vimes meant that he didn’t want to talk.

“Happy Birthday, Wee Sam.” His uncle replied, “I trust you’ll be on time for dinner?”

Oh. That was a reminder. And a warning. “Thank you. Yes, we won’t be long.”

“Good. See you then.” The Patrician nodded, and then passed him.

“Yes.” Wee Sam muttered, and then reached for his pocket watch. When he pulled it out, he saw the time was all wrong and swore quietly. Well, from the graves he would be able to see the Tower of Art, and set his watch to the present. The battle of the lilac boys had been in the mid-morning, and it was most definitely not a quarter to noon.

John Keel’s grave marker was wood, and though it had been replaced often it had never been strong enough to support the weight of an average-sized man. Reg’s, on the other hand, was granite, and he apparently didn’t mind that Commander Sam Vimes leaned against it more and more every year.

Wee Sam didn’t make any noise, he never made any noise, but he could never sneak around his father. Commander Sam Vimes turned his head ever so slightly, and Wee Sam tooka good look at him.

Oh gods, he was so old. When had that happened? True, the last time he had seen his father he must have been about 50, but before that Wee Sam had spent three decades watching his father age and yet… It had never struck him so hard. He never could quite reconcile his memories of young Sam Vimes, that kid who had joined The Watch for three square meals a day and a little extra cash for his family. But he hadn’t thought his father had changed so much.

The old man looked him up and down. “How’d the battle go? After I left?”

Wee Sam stopped abruptly, and looked down at his outfit. He had forgotten to change into the clothes he had left at the monastery. This outfit was a uniform the Monks had given him, so he wouldn’t have the problems ‘accidental’ time travelers experienced with their clothes and meals and things staying in the time they came from. He even still had his lilac, somehow, even though that had come from the past.

“Don’t you remember?” You kicked ass.

His father shook his head. “I remember the original timeline, when Keel died at the barricade. I was pretty sure Coats wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he was, either.”

“I guess Vetinari showed up?” His father smirked. “Had a lilac in his teeth and everything?”

“I thought you didn’t remember it.” Wee Sam frowned.

“I don’t, but he tells me about it sometimes. I think he’s waiting for me to remember, or maybe now he’s wondering why I don’t.”

“Because time travel is a mess.” Wee Sam turned away from his father and looked across the city. He could see his family’s house from here.

“So Sweeper explained it to you?” The interest in his voice was practically tactile.

“No, but I had to run around for a month foiling somebody who had been sent to kill Havelock Vetinari. And it gave me time to wonder.”

“Why it was different the first time around?”

Wee Sam shook his head. “Would I have survived being born if you didn’t go back and meet Lawn?”

There was absolute silence between them, until Commander Sam Vimes quietly swore.

“Sweeper told me you have to think of things as one event in front of another, which is fine, except if you hadn’t gone back in time you wouldn’t have known Lawn was competent. You had heard of him, sure, but he would have never crossed your mind.”

“So we owe your existence to the damn time monks?” There was an angry edge to his father’s voice, but Wee Sam already knew his father was protective as hell. That was how he had gotten into this mess. Sort of.

“No. As far as I can tell, we owe it to some modern young idiots who thought they could go back and kill Vetinari. Time tries to fix things, and so you were sent back in time, to meet Lawn and Carcer went with you and killed Keel so there was a place for you to be and when you were done my life got saved and the monks were able to send me back to save Vetinari’s life and… Time is what it should be. Go us.” There was something about owing his life to terrorists that made him feel sarcastic.

“For all we know Vetinari or Rosie Palm might have recommended Lawn.” His father pointed out, which wasn’t a bad alternative. But it wasn’t what had happened, and there wasn’t really anybody they could ask. At least, nobody who they could ask who would give them a meaningful answer. They both knew Vetinari was a capable doctor, but apparently neither of them could imagine Vetinari getting involved in a problematic birth when there were other competent people around to do it.

More silence. Wee Sam noticed the time on the Tower of Art, and pulled his watch back out. If they were going to avoid talking about the massive argument they had that morning, he may as well take the time to re-set his watch.

“There was the sound of dice.” His father said so quietly that it didn’t initially register.

“Hm?” Wee Sam pushed the pin in, and watched with satisfaction as his watch and the tower struck the time at the exact same minute.

“Before the Library got struck by lightning. There was the sound of dice. Were the people who wanted to kill Havelock associated with a specific god?”

“I… Don’t know. They didn’t say anything about one.” He shut the watch, and shoved it in his pocket. ‘Havelock’ meant his dad was worried. “But there was a thunderstorm, right? Was the sound of dice rolling at the exact moment as the thunder?’

“Yes.”

“Io!” They both said it at the same moment, and Wee Sam felt his heart fall to his stomach. The self-proclaimed King of the Gods had been trying to subjugate their family for a long time. The only reason he had eased up lately was because Wee Sam had trained with the witches in Lancre. And so, to a lesser extent, had his father. It made them harder targets. But Io was still The Thunder God because he had murdered all the others. And then there was the question of who he would be forced to answer to. And how. Neither of the Vimes men had an axe sharp enough for that.

“Damn, why didn’t I realize that?” His father asked the night at large.

“The gods are always playing games. And besides, you had no reason to think Io was responsible for… Well he’s probably not responsible for the Dragon Incident, at least. Or the Goblin Incident.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been operating under the assumption that he was involved in that Dam Slam.” He was rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over the inside of his left wrist, where the Mark of the Summoning Dark had been. When Wee Sam was 8 it had changed, to a symbol generally called the Guarding Dark by anyone who cared to reference it. His father never talked about either Mark, but Wee Sam didn’t blame him. The Marks were indicative of 7 year period which did a number on his view of magic, and his identity.

Speaking of.

“I haven’t told Susan yet, but the monks kicked me out.” He tapped his toe against the grass, bringing it down as softly as he could so it wouldn’t damage the grass. Leggy would be so mad if he damaged his precious ‘terf’.

“Do you want to be a Monk?” His father asked quietly.

“No, I want to be a Watchman.” He whispered. Today was his 30th birthday, though technically he was a month older than that. He felt so much older than that. “But you’re apparently so terrified of me getting myself hurt that you’ve been doing Every Damned Thing you can think of to get between me and that and so I went ahead and tried to join almost any guild in the city and quite a few refused me and I’ve been kicked out of Each. And. Every. One. which would take me and now the only thing I can think of is taking Susan up on her offer to put in a good word for me with the Sto Lat Watch unless you’re going to step in and mess that up too and I wish you would knock it the hells off because as much as I love mum and her dragons I cannot spend the rest of my life working at the damn dragon sanctuary so--”

“Corporal.” His father’s voice was conversational, and somebody who had spent less time listening for the Commander’s voice probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I’m not finished! Will you--” Wee Sam stopped abruptly. “Is that why you made me a Corporal? You couldn’t have recognized me. I hadn’t been born yet!”

“I recognized potential. And I was right, though you didn’t have as much control as I originally thought. Was all that sparring really necessary?”

“You’ve been standing between me and what I’ve been made to do!”

“And how would 50 year old me have known that?”

“It was easier to fight… him… than you.” Wee Sam grumbled, then realized he was starting to dig up the sod with his toe. Feeling bad about the grass, he brought his toe down in the other direction, to flatten it back down.

“Easier? I kicked your ass. I’d probably have a harder time of it now.”

“I never wondered if I should hold back.” Wee Sam admitted.

“Ah.” The 80 year old nodded. “I know that feeling. I’ve often wondered what it would be like if Vetinari and I had a proper fight when we were young.”

“You could sell tickets and solve all the city’s financial problems.” Wee Sam shifted his gaze to his father. “Actually you probably still could--”

“No. Your mother would have a conniption.”

“Oh right. Yeah, she would. Shame.”

“Do I want to know who you think would win?”

“No.”

“Your faith in me is staggering.”

“Well I figure either it would be a draw or he’d kick your--”

“Yes I understood your answer to my question, thank you.” But he was smiling ever so slightly.

And then the city’s clocks started chiming 9 in the evening. His father pushed himself slowly to his feet, and Wee Sam offered his arm. Cheery had offered to get his father an axe to use as a cane, but Commander Vimes would not hear of it. He did touch Wee Sam’s arm briefly, but once he was standing straight he let go, and the pair of them headed towards the exit.

They didn’t bother to try talking until the clocks had stopped, about five minutes after Wee Sam’s watch struck the hour.

“Did those people who tried to kill young Vetinari have any friends who stayed in our time?”

“I believe so.” They were walking slowly, and Wee Sam waited a full block before he added. “You want me to turn all my information over to anyone in particular?”

“I’m not afraid of you getting hurt.” It didn’t seem like a related response, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. “I mean, of course I am, but that’s not why I’ve been saying no.”

“Really?”

“I don't want people treating you like a target for their hate for me. If you could join the way Carrot or Angua or Cheery did, that would be fine. But it’s gotten so big since they joined up.”

“Ah.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I don’t think it would be any better if you joined anywhere else within the Clacks network.”

“Which is pretty much the whole world at this point.”

“And there’s all this scrying now.”

“Which doesn’t need towers.”

His father glared at him, but didn’t tell him to knock it off. “So I suspect your joining a Watch anywhere would ultimately be just as risky.”

“Which is your reasoning for why I shouldn’t bother with Sto Lat.”

“No, my reasoning for why you shouldn’t bother with Sto Lat is that we pay better and have the best medical benefits on the Sto Plains.”

Wee Sam stopped abruptly. “What.”

“You survived the Watch I started out in. As far as I’m concerned, you can handle today’s watch.” The old man stopped and looked back at him. “You’re going to be the oldest cadet though. Because I’m not going to let you jump straight to Corporal. We’re not at war.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s fine.”

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get moving.”

“Right.” Wee Sam managed to keep himself from skipping, so the pent up energy became a jog to his father’s side. They walked in silence, Wee Sam’s mind racing as he wondered if there was some way for him to accidentally mess this up.

“You should give your mother two week’s notice though. It’s only fair.”

“You didn’t run this by her first?” Wee Sam turned to him, shocked.

“Oh we’ve been talking about this for years.” The unspoken word ‘decades’ hung in the air between them. “Her, Vetinari, Carrot, Angua, Cheery--”

“Cheery?”

“She and Igor think you should be in forensics. I mean, it’s your choice of course-- after you pass the tests.”

“Forensics would be great.” He agreed, and thought about how fun it could be to put his Medical and Alchemical and Assassin training to something useful for once. Which reminded him “You know, there is a smouldering cigar in the center of The Garden of Inner City Tranquility at the Monastery.”

“Yeah, it hit me after you left. I had called you ‘sunshine’ during our fight, and Vetinari basically asked how you were handling turning 30, and seeing him standing there with the lilac pinned to his shirt it hit me.” He paused for a moment. “He wore it in the original timeline too, you know. I wish I had asked, but we didn’t get along as well then.”

Wee Sam felt his mouth tug into a half-smile. For his father and the patrician, ‘getting along as well’ involved an increased number of arguments. Also, he remembered ‘Keel’ using that ironic term of endearment during their spar. “You realized I was Ned Coats.”

“So I… walked as fast as I could… to the Monastery and… knocked on the damned door… And threatened to make one hell of a scene if Sweeper didn’t let me in.”

“So of course he did.”

“Of course.”

“And he took you to the garden. And… you told him what you worked out?”

“Actually I just told him that if anything happened to you I was holding him personally responsible. I knew Ned Coats died. I just didn’t know if he died the way John Keel died. I hadn’t stayed long enough to find out.”

“And what did he say?”

“He asked if my holding him responsible was more or less lethal than Susan Sto Helit holding him responsible.”

Wee Sam laughed. “Sweeper hasn’t met mum.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” His father chuckled quietly. “Anyway, Susan will be at dinner so you can tell her all about how the monks kicked you out with an audience. Your mother will find it interesting, I’m sure.”

“Does mum know about you going back...”

“Oh yes. Vetinari can’t keep a secret from her.” And neither could her husband.

“Will there be anybody at the dinner who doesn’t know?”

“Hm, no. I don’t think so. You were the only one who wasn’t in a position to make conversation then, and while Susan wasn’t involved in my adventure as far as I can tell…”

“But with Susan who knows. In any case, I think I’ll wait until we can get some privacy.”

“Suit yourself, but be warned. Everyone knows I told you I was ok with you joining the Watch. They’ll make a big deal about it. You know how they are.”

Wee Sam looked up at the big, brightly-lit, house as they waited for his dad to fully get his breath back. “I’ll try to be strong.”

Commander Sam Vimes snorted. Wee Sam opened the door, held it while his father entered the house, and followed right behind him.

#the glorious 25th of may #night watch #discworld #sam vimes #gnu terry pratchett #fanfiction #john keel #terry pratchett #writing

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seostudios · 4 years ago

Text

extraordinary

SEOSTUDIOS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

synopsis. after the king went missing, y/n embarks on a journey to save her father from the kingdom's greatest secret, the fallen prince, who has locked him in his mother’s castle. trading herself in for her father's release, she soon realizes the supposed blood-sucking creature is just an arrogant prince and makes her mission to draw the cold-hearted boy out of his isolation.

pairing. kim doyoung x fem!reader

genre. romance, fantasy, angst, smut

info. prince!doyoung, vampire!doyoung, princess!reader, beauty-and-the-beast!au (with a twist), non-idol!au, medieval!au, prince!ex!jaehyun, brother!jaemin

warnings. mentions of blood and arranged marriage, alcohol, explicit language, unprotected sex, bondage, a really bad sex scene ugh

wc. 5.2k

an. hi happy halloween! i promised ‘angel’ for my halloween special but i feel like wizards were boring for halloween (no hate) but a beauty and the beast au with a vampire twist sounded sexy.. so i hope you enjoyed this romance au there a smut scene but i’m not proud since i have to pee rlly badly and wrote this in a rush (LOL) i hope the cover tricked u! it’s supposed to give a ‘blank’ theme... yk anyways ill try writing more tysm bye i love you all think of this as a halloween special + 700 special mwhamwah

The long curtain that draped over your bay windows had the same orange hue to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. Reminding you of the sleepless nights spent just to get a view of the sun as it illuminated the blue as if it were igniting the most miraculous flame. Throwing the large duvet that once covered your canvas, you quietly tip-toe out of your shared bedroom with fiance and future king, Jaehyun, not trying to wake him yet.

By the time you're finished looking presentable to the outside world, you make your way down towards the kitchen. There was only a week before the wedding, so the castle was a little hectic. Seeing the tailor and his assistance run in an out the front gates, the chefs coming from far and wide to bake you the most flavoursome cake out there. The wedding was a big deal. I mean between merging kingdoms and scoring the most eligible bachelor in the land... It was huge! Jaehyun was known in his kingdom for his selfless actions, but elsewhere, it was his dashing looks. Although he still hasn't managed to swoop in and steal your heart, you had no choice but to let him believe he did so for the sake of your future.

"Princess!" The chef Johnny calls. He noticed you wandering out of your suite after using the restroom and just had to get some small talk done and possibly put in a good word for his close friend about to seal the deal with you. "Oh! Hey Johnny," You greet, flashing him a toothy grin. "It's almost the big day..." He exclaimed. Wow, he seems more excited than me, you think to yourself. "Right. I'm nervous," You confess, your frown now replacing the award-winning smile. Which didn't go unnoticed by Johnny. His eyes, which were once trained on you, shoot up to look behind your shoulder. "Speak of the devil!" He shouted, shooting you a couple glances before running over to Jaehyun, who has just woken up.

Now at the dining table, you and Jaehyun sit accompanied by his parents. "So, Y/N" His mother starts in attempts to spark a conversation. You shot your head up to listen in on what she has to say, "Did you know Jaehyun has an older brother? Doyoung." Silence. You all sat in an awkward stillness, glances between Jaehyun and his father, worried. "No, I didn't. Is he coming to breakfast?" Her cheerful demeanour was quick to shapeshift into a dejected expression. "He moved to Paris to expand his corporation." The hidden truth was that he didn't move at all. He was banished. This tall tale is told all over the lands, but it was just a tall tale about the prince, was it not?

Once upon a time, there lived a dashing prince. His name was Doyoung. Despite having all the money and power in the kingdom, it still felt like there was nothing left for him there if he still lingered in his younger brother's shadow. So the prince ventured off, hoping to find someone who'd appreciate him for himself. That's when he met the great sorcerer, Minyeon, known by only the wicked. She was a sly witch, moving only on the outskirts of the lands. Aching to pounce on any punk in the vicinity. Therefore when she noticed the prince and came to realize his selfish needs, she casts a spell. "You're stuck like this until you find peace eternally. Is being a greedy spoilt brat all you need to be a prince? Maybe you should be more like Jaehyun." Those were her last words before disappearing into the woods. Doyoung quickly ran back home. Calling every wizard in town to inspect him. He was now cursed to live life as a blood-sucking monster unless he finds this peace. "You know we can't." His mother started. Doyoung's heart tore, hearing the crack in her voice. "I... I know Mother. I'll be quick." He said before finished packing the briefcase full of necessities. "I have a castle." She spits out, handing him a map. "Stay there. I will visit as much as I can," And it was the truth. She visited for the first few months until he started to change. The violent evil nature of a pure vampire, taking its place in Doyoung. That was no longer her son, and she couldn't risk venturing far to walk right into her death.

And that was Doyoung’s story.

It's been about three years since the incident, and villagers still ponder on whether it's fiction or not, but with the heartbreaking look on Jaehyun's mother's face this morning, I think you got your answer. Acknowledging the elephant in the room, you and your future mother-in-law finish up and head into the fitting room with the tailor, leaving Jaehyun with his father. "He knows-" Jaehyun started, quickly being cut off by his father. "That's why we limited guests on such short notice and doubled the guards. He won't be able to get in." He affirmed before the sound of the chair screeching slowly, and someone sitting was heard. The two look down towards the end of the table. "I won't be able to what?" Doyoung said, throwing his feet on the table.

死

"I really do think you look magnificent." The designer, Taeyong, chirped adjusting your corset. "Taeyong honey, don't you think that's a little tight? Y/N looks like she's turning blue." Jaehyun's mother jokes. Ever since you've departed from the boys at breakfast, she's been jumpy. Was she expecting someone? "Alright, here we go! Go take a look, princess." Nodding, you make your way to the large mirror. "Oh my! I love it! Thank you so much!" Doing a little twirl, as Jaehyun's mother cheers, showering you in compliments.

“So.. Y/N darling... How are things with Jaehyun?” She asked helping you undress after Taeyong exited. “What do you mean?” You asked curious, what could she mean? “You know this isn’t exactly a love marriage...” She hears a sigh from you. “I mean I like him!” Making sure you let her know that first, you turn away from the mirror to face her, “But not like that, he’s a good friend... Nothing more.” The confession left the still room feel like a ghost town. Jaehyun’s mother hands you a heartwarming smile, assuring you it’s okay. “You know, I think you’d be fit with my eldest son, Doyoung.” Smiling to herself she takes a loose strand of hair and places it behind your hair. “A-Are the rumo-” She nods. They were true, he really was a vampire. “May I ask where he is? Do you visit? How is he? Does he look like the vampires from the books?” All your questions erupt at once, causing her to burst into a fit of laughter. “Well where do I start?!” She says more to herself. “He’s in a castle, past the river banks and through the woods. Safe, hopefully. He’s also quite charming-”

A knock at the door, grabs both of your attention. "Come in," You said, but something was off. An uneasy feeling turns in the pit of your stomach as the doorknob unwinds to reveal Jaehyun. "You can't be in here! Shoo!" His mother scolded, but Jaehyun raised his hand to silence her. "Y/N, your father."

“He’s what?!” You shout. “Been abducted? By who? He’s on everyone’s good side.” You state clearly. “It’s not his fault. It’s our fault.” He confessed, looking down at the marble tiles of the hushed room. “My brother, Doyoung. Took him.” A gasp is heard from his mother as her hand goes to rest on her chest to feel her heart. “Is Doyoung here?!” She asked. He shook his head. “He showed up and told Dad and I the news but left afterwards. He told me to pass the news over to you.” Jaehyun began to massage his temples, this was really getting to him. “He wants you to meet him at his castle to - discuss - your father's return to his kingdom.” And in a blink of an eye you were gone. Jaehyun’s mother didn’t give you exact directions but you could find out where his castle is. “What are you doing!? Stop her!!” His mother cries, “She doesn’t know what she’s heading into!” Before she was able to run out to you, Jaehyun stops her in her tracks. “This is not our battle, Mother.”

Running into your barn, You mounted Ivy, about to venture off possibly to your death. You were determined though, no matter what; you need your father back. Not for you but for the sake of your kingdom. “Come on girl, we’re gonna save Papa.” Ivy was originally a horse for the knights but it seemed like the two of you had more of a sibling bond than you and your younger brother, Jaemin... Not that you guys hated each other! The river banks were a easy to trot by, the boat passengers and fishers greeting you, and the woods wasn’t as dark and ominous as Jaehyun’s mom put it to sound like.

There you were. Past the river banks, through the woods and you were led to the front gates of Doyoung’s castle. The castle was more ancient than any bone left in soil. The stone pathway pitted and scarred, looking up you notice it's tall walls, trees surrounded the castle. The large pillars, narrow, round towers dominate the skyline of this massive castle and are connected by enormous, firm walls made of cobblestone. Spooky was an understatement. You dismount Ivy and tie her loosely to an old log. “Stay here girl, I’ll be back with Papa.” Pushing the rusted gates open you throw your cloak over top your head and run towards the large wooden doors. Letting yourself in you examine the large foyer of the castle, it was much smaller than yours back home but the presence it held was bigger than any king to have walked the lands. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, you can feel your pulse pounding in your temples as you cautiously walked up the steps. "Doyoung?" You call out. A muscle twitches involuntarily at the corner of your right eye, after seeing a shadow swiftly move. He knows you're here. "I'm not scared of you." You spoke tenderly, moreso to convince yourself you weren't. Looking down the narrow hallway someone stands, before you were able to walk towards the figure he heads into a door. Now on a wild goose chase after Doyoung you reach a grand hall full of chambers, a dungeon. “Let me out you bastard!” An infuriated voice shouts. It’s your father. “Papa?! Where are you?” You cry running around the zigzag chamber. “Y/N? Over here Y/N!” He shouts once more, why were you here?

There he was, there they were. Your father was on his knees, gripping the bars calling out for you, but beside him standing tall, he was a slender and well built man with pretty, unturned lip. His pale skin sparkled in the moonlight, his dark eyes matching the night sky above perfectly. Doyoung. Although your heart picked up at his astonishing facial features, you were enraged on why he would abduct your poor father. “Let him go at once!” You demand. He kisses his teeth and dangles a pair of keys above your head. “Only if you stay.”

“I’ll be fine Papa.” You assure your father at the front gates of the castle. “Take Ivy and head home. I’ll be okay.” You embrace him once more, “But the wedding?!” Your eyebrows furrow. “It’s cancelled, why don’t you get Jaemin to merge with Jaehyun’s little sister, she just came of age and she’s arriving from Thailand tomorrow.” And thus the decision was made. You were now a resident at Doyoung’s, and your wedding was cancelled.

Sitting on the last step of the spiral staircase you watch Doyoung pace around the foyer, speaking to someone in a room. Didn’t he live alone? Getting up to explore the castle you were stopped by Doyoung, he’s quick on his toes. “Let me bring you to your room.” He said, his hand reaching out to you. Charming Slapping his hand you walk past him up the stairs towards whatever room you would make out to be your own. He trails behind you, “Feisty, I-” “I was talking to your mother about you earlier. I’m not dumb, I know it all.” Your began, opening a room door. “I want this room.” You demand, even if you showed him your stubborn side a little, it was fine. He did kidnap your father. Doyoung hums “Okay. Dinner in five” He chimed, before heading back down. The rest of the night was nothing out of the ordinary, other than the awkward glances to one another at dinner. In attempts of sparking something between the two of you Doyoung asks, “Did you enjoy dinner?” At the door frame of your bedroom. “Yeah,” All was well until you saw him begin to unbutton his dress shirt and head into the closet. “W-What do you think are you doing?” You asked frightened. Why was he undressing in your new bedroom. “Getting ready for bed?” “But don’t you have your own room?” You inquire confused. “You picked my room, so we share.” He replied. There were at least over a dozen bedrooms in this castle and you just had to pick his. “No take backs by the way, now get in bed love.” Kissing your teeth you throw on a pair of pyjamas you found in the closet; assuming it was his. Moving to the side of the bed to make a wall of pillows separating the two of you.

死

“It’s been over three months Doyoung.” This was one of those rare occasions you spoke at dinner. “And?” He questions. “I want to go home.” You stood your ground, it’s been over three months, nearing four and it’s safe to say this dinner was the most you’ve both communicated. “You are home,” He replies, taking a bite of his food. “No, it’s not. I sit in this castle reading books and talking to myself, I’m going mad!” You bark. “You traded yourself in for your fathers release, I can’t let you leave.” He always spoke softly but his words never failed to slice through you.

Doyoung enters his bedroom, while you were downstairs cleaning up. He reaches into the back of his closet, sliding the clothes on the rack to the side, to reveal a mirror. It wasn’t an ordinary mirror, it was a magic mirror, to help Doyoung communicate with his mother without putting herself in danger. “I thought this was the peace I needed to come back.” He said to himself looking at his reflection. “Peace? This isn’t peace Doyoung.” A voice hollered throughout the still room as the mirror illuminated. “I know it isn’t mother, I can’t seem to find it. I’m trying.” The tension grew thick, he was frustrated. “Find peace in her.” She finally said. Just then, the mirror shatters. “Doyoung?” Your soft voice calls from the closet door. His head spins around as he readjusts the clothing. “What time is it?” He questioned, flaring with energy. “About fifteen minutes to eight, why?” This is where you start growing nervous. Although he’s kept to himself you know he yearned for human blood. “Let’s explore.” He grabs ahold of your hand running down to the front yard. “Wear this.” Handing you a coat he intertwines your hands as the two of you exit the premises.

“Why are you being so weird?!” You roar demanding answers. “I want our friendship to blossom my love.” He spoke, a pang of guilt hitting him. Your cheeks suddenly kissed pink like the spring rose, the blooming colour so bright against your face. Looking forward,avoiding eye contact with Doyoung you tug his hand forward into the wilderness. “On my way here I remember seeing a bench surround with an ethereal setting.” You babble on the way to the destination. “Really? Would love to see it.” Doyoung replied uninterested. This didn’t go unnoticed by you so letting go of his hand you walk ahead. He catches up but doesn’t grab ahold of your hand. “I apologize.” He said, earning a scoff. “I really am, I’m all ears now.” The pleads went on until you reached the bench where you sat down and pulled out a book. “What’s that?” He asked. “A sketch book.” You reply, opening the book to reveal you artwork. “Whoa, Y/N these are amazing.” Astonished he grabs it out of you hand to flip through them, earning a rather adorable giggle from you, which did indeed cause a crack in Doyoung’s ice cold heart.

Your stay increased and the liking you had towards Doyoung has as well. Now there is never a dull moment at dinner, a new routine of late night walks. In all honesty, Doyoung hasn’t been the slightest interested in you up until last night. “Doie! Look at this, I drew you!” You cheer running over to the boy in his study. “Let’s take a look.” He stood in front of you, his eyes that told stories words couldn't, staring into your shiny orbs, piercing through you. He couldn’t help it, with your collar bones exposed with the large tee swallowing you whole.. You looked appetizing. So when his hand came in contact with your nape, leaning down, his mouth hovering over your neck, about to indulge he hears a whimper. “Doyoung..” He looks up to your frightened figure. However, you weren’t scared of him sucking a little blood out of you, just nervous of how close you were. “Doyoung. It’s okay...” You whispered your doe eyes staring right back at him. But he couldn’t, “I’m not a monster.”

These days Doyoung felt vulnerable around you. The once inhuman arrogant cursed prince acting as like another man. His crave and lust for blood sank and he desired something else, something more attainable at his end now; love. Though his love for you blossomed quickly he was insecure and full of doubt when it comes to confessing. The world seems to be on his side when the two love birds are together, fooling around, but once the tension grew his courage flees the scene. Weeks turned into months with this unbearable love for you; he no longer lusts for your friendship, he needs more.

You sat on the edge of the king sized bed, gazing out the bay window that peered into the land. Stars shining over top the night sky, appearing like magic at each sunset. Sipping onto the last bit of hot chocolate in your mug you change into a silk night dress Doyoung has purchased for you, since he thought you should have a new wardrobe now that you live with him. Back hitting against the soft mattress you wrap yourself in the thick duvet, closing your eyes to think.

My friendship with Doyoung has really come far these past few nights. Just the other night he cooked me breakfast in bed, which was really thoughtful of him. His egoistic personality fading into a tenderhearted man. Under all the layers from his saddening past, becoming a monster from the storybooks, to his prince status. He was a normal guy. I know he wants to flee this wretched castle and run back home, though he fears what he capable of. How he could hurt his people, or worse, his family. The sinister persona taking over him that cut his bond from Jaehyun. Oh But past all this is a man... You love.

The door creaks and you noticed a disheveled Doyoung enter the room. Must have been up in the study racing his minds to wonder, you believe. “Hey you.” You chirp, to sit up on the bed unknowingly a strap falls from your shoulder exposing your collarbone. “Hello Y/N.” The reply was dry and nonchalant about. But all worries ended when he hops into the bed curling up into himself gathering warmth. You don’t know why but your heart skipped a beat when you glanced over at him, catching his stare up at you. You huff playfully before relaxing into the sheets. The two of you could’ve easily split rooms and been on your way but there was an urge for you to stay in his suite. Maybe it was the thirst to find out who he really was, and why his path was this rough... Or it was because ever since you met at the chambers, your heart always raced around him; no matter the occasion. The room was quiet, sitting in a comfortable silence, both of you awake. Should you tell him? Is this too quick? Were you ready? The questions spring around your mind for a couple seconds before being interrupted by a pleasant surprise.

Doyoung’s hand makes it’s way to reach yours. The ice-cold finger tips, tracing over your hand. Skinship wasn’t rare but it was never making you consider he felt the same way. Intertwining your hands you turn to face him, to notice he was already looking at you. He wants to confess, he will confess. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly silenced with a pair of soft lips crashing onto him. Knowing his difficulty with words, actions seemed to have spoken better than them. His lips were warm and the taste of bourbon stung your tongue gracefully. Doyoung moves his hands from yours to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You two break apart for air, hesitantly looking at one another. Though his eyes told multiple stories, all you felt as of now was lust and desire. Giving yourself up to him, or how people back home would say; popping the cherry. Lips crash together and it felt like you were walking on air. The way your lips connected with his, molding together like they belonged, his mouth was so warm compared to the rest of him. The small tug onto your lips erupting a quiet moan is what gets him started.

死

You awoke to arms barricading around you, keeping your bare body close. The morning light shining through the closed blinds creating a funky pattern on the duvet. Your hands drawing funny little shapes on Doyoung's bare chest. Last night sure was hectic, he's got a lot of stamina for someone who claimed to be tired. Doyoung lets out a whine, “So bright in here..” He groans, covering his face. It took a minute to register what was going on and why you were naked and in his arms, but relaxed when he follows up on what went down last night. He could freely express his love physically and verbally. “Oh my god, I love you.” He says ecstatic. You mumble ‘I love you too’ to him before he goes on yapping, “Mother was right.” He whispers, “She was right. You’re my peace. My key to a happy life.” A soft smile dances on your lips after hearing those words, he truly did love you... But because his mother told him so? “Your mother?” You inquire, but he’s quick to reply. “She told me to find peace in you; at first I doubting her sanity because you were quite annoying-” “Hey!” You slap his chest, however he defends himself. “But I can’t live without your chitter chatter now.” He expressed.

Doyoung combs his hair, you cleansing beside him. “You got tanner honey.” You say pinching his skin lightly. “I did?” His doe eyes looking into the mirror at his skin. Then panic arose, “Quick Y/N! Fetch me some blood.” He says while you blankly stare back at him. “You don’t have any blood.” He grabs your wrist. The veins visible. “I.. I don’t want blood.” A sardonic laugh escapes. “I have an idea” He said patting your head lovingly. What could he have in mind? You hum, signaling him to continue as you dry off. “Let’s get married.” If you saw yourself right now you probably would’ve been convinced that your jaw was touching the ground. Nonetheless, life is a risk. Why not? “Okay.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The once feared blood sucking monster, was now back to being an ordinary prince. “I heard my father didn’t let our poor little sister get married..” He whispers into your lips. “Two weddings have been cancelled, let’s help them out.” Grabbing your hand he leads you towards the east end of his castle. You never ventured out there, quite creepy if I do say so myself. Digging into an old box he pulls out an off the shoulder wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads were sewn on the gown. "It's beautiful," You gasp in awe. "It was my mother's gown. I want you to wear it now." He said handing it over. “Bring it in hand, let’s get ready there. Our big day is tomorrow isn’t it?” He smirks, taking you in hand to walk down to the foyer. “I called someone for us.” “You did?” Just then, you two hear the neigh of a horse (or two) in the distance approaching. A carriage arrived on time to bring you two home. “I can’t believe we’re going home.” You start. “Does this mean we’re gonna stay there because I’d rather not actually.” The confession was vague but Doyoung knew where you were getting at. The privacy was amazing, and hearing the sound of birds in the early morning instead of villagers was a blessing. “Me too.” He replied, helping you on top of the carriage.

And off you go.

Once you arrived you were surprised people recognized you, and the prince himself. Whispers and rumours already begun and you’ve barely made it through the main city. “There it is, our chapel.” You joke, pointing towards the castle, earning a little laugh from him. He was no longer a vampire, and it frightened you, was getting you to fall in love with him just to go back to normal his only goal? Or was he truly head over heels for you as you were for him. Many of actions reminded you of how he loved you. “Whoa did you see that? They just let us slip by..” He whispers to you after seeing the guards let you pass by happily. “It’s cause we live here,” You replied all giddy over his childish antics when it came to being home, he was thrilled. He quickly rushed towards the the throne room knowing his parents would be there and you rushed behind after setting the suitcases. “Mother! Father! I’ve come home!” He shouts in the still room. Gasps heard from various maids and guards. “I-I’ve found peace...” He pants. “Peace?” His father questioned, his mother correcting him, “He found love.” Doyoung shares a smile before walking up to the throne, “I’ve been gone for quite awhile, haven’t I?” He snickers before embracing his parents. “Brother?” A voice hollered through the room, follow by whispers. He turned to see his loving siblings. “Jaehyun...” Running towards him his smile fades. “I’m sorry,” The apology was wholehearted, from what Jaehyun knew; Doyoung was a loving brother. But all was false, back then he was a selfish beast, not caring once of who he hurt. Now, he was back and came work up from his mistakes. Jaehyun pulls his elder brother into a hug, as he sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

The door opens to reveal a princess; you. “You all know Y/N.” Doyoung says, grabbing your hand. At first, you don’t realize Jaehyun there, but he makes himself known. “Yes, I was engaged to her not long ago.” Shivers ran down your spine, how could he be so cold and straightforward. Did he actually love you? The straight brooding face quickly curved into a grin, flashing his dimples. “I’m joking. You two actually look like your in love, Y/N and I looked like brothers.” Laughter erupts within the room everyone catching onto the joke one by one before silencing. Doyoung clears his throat “I will be marrying Princess Y/N and merging our kingdoms into one.” It was nice to see his father smile, it was rare. This was good news and it seems like all is working out for the two of you. “Very well, how does next week sound?” He said, watching you two nod eagerly.

死

It’s been three hours since your vows have been exchanged, and you are now rocking a stone as large as your pupil on your wedding finger, while slowly being undressed by your husband. “Why is this thing so hard to take off,” He complained right as he gets the hang of it. Your lips molding with one another in perfect harmony. It's a slow process you want to enjoy, but most of all you want to pleasure your new husband. A gasp escapes your mouth feeling Doyoung gently lifts his hands up to palm your clothed core, the gentle rubbing before going underneath the thin material to your glistening folds. He hushed your with kiss going down your torso, til he reached right above your core. In a blink of an eye, you see yourself nude and legs sprawled out with Doyoung’s face between your legs. Licking a stripe between your folds, sucking gently on your clit. “So wet...” He murmurs under his breath, before diving in. If you thought your first time with Doyoung was hectic, you’re in for it tonight. Now hands tied behind your back by your own wedding veil you stuff your head into the pillow, screaming his name. “Oh my god! Oh my god! R-Right there! Harder!” You cry, curling your toes ass he thrusts into your core. Your hair bunched up into Doyoung’s fist, keeping you two steady as he penetrates into you. Coming close to your orgasm you arch your back in anticipation; this doesn’t go unnoticed. Doyoung comes forth, hot breath and groans loud and clear in your ear. Reaching down he finds your bud and rubs harshly onto it, feeling you clench around his length. A squeal leaves your mouth, “I’m cumming!” You cried, digging your face in the pillow. Just when you felt yourself relaxing into the pillow, you feel a hot liquid coat your pink walls and Doyoung pulling out

死

The sound of the kids playing rings in the background as you sip on a cup of coffee your husband, Doyoung brewed earlier this morning. He comes to sit beside you on the abandoned bench in the forest, memories flooding off our many escapes to this very bench as kids. His hand reaches to caress your pregnant belly. “Number three.” He said playfully as you slap his hand away, “His name is Taehyun, not Number three.” He chuckles, “A beautiful name from his beautiful mother.” Doyoung says, gently raking his fingers through your long locks of hair. “I love you so much,” He whispers, bringing his hand to your cheek before kissing the top of your nose. “I love you too I guess,” You shrug, covering your grin with the book you held. “Youjin and Minhyun are still in the garden, shall we go in...” His eyes trail the vicinity, before catching your kids who were sitting in a field of flowers. “Min! Jin! Me and your mother are going to head inside for a snack! Stay close!” He shouts over the kids who just send him a thumbs up. Eagerly, Doyoung stood up grabbing your hand pulling you gently towards the castle. “What a child,” You mumble before heading in.

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years ago

Text

Sweetheart

MOVIE BRIGHT STAR COUPLE SAMUEL X READER RATING: SWEET + SMUTTYISH

I sat on my chair as the darkness of the evening crept in through my window as I had not yet drawn the curtain. The firelight keeping the pure darkness at Bay with its flickering hues of gold and red the fire would slowly break away eating at the brown wood laid upon it. The shadows of my things dancing so graciously on the walls. My mantle clocked ticked ever onward the unrelenting swing of the pendulum. I focused on the book between my fingers stroking the soft paper and binding of the book rather than focusing on the words themselves. I glanced up as I heard the click of the clock turning to the top hour starting its gentle chimes revealing it was indeed now midnight. And as my chimes finished I heard another sound a tippity tap on my window I got up and went to the window kneeling on the window seat cushions to look out into the darkness, I saw a lantern in the dark so I pushed open my window seeing the familiar figure

"Hi samuel" I smiled

"Hi sweetheart. You coming?' he asks sweetly

I nodded shutting my window and hurried to my bed getting my little shoes and jacket on I hurried down the stairs as quietly as I could sneaking out the kitchen door into the gardens as they rarely locked it I hurried over to the rose garden where he stood under my window waiting for me

"I missed you'' he cooed trying to take me in his arms but I pushed him away putting a finger on his mouth taking his hand and hurrying deeper into the gardens and away from the house till we reached our usual spot in the gardens, my section of the gardens that my window overlooked. My garden was roses and lavender mostly with the small stone pond where fish lived, with swirling pathways and tall trees, in the centre under the canopy of trees wound up with ivy and roses was my little gazebo made of white stone we went there laying on a blanket that Samuel brought with him sitting his lantern on the floor to so we could see each other but keeping it low so knowone would notice the light across the gardens. "Can I? Now?" He blushed and I smiled giving him a tight hug "ummmm I missed you"

"I missed you too" I smiled "I'm sorry samuel I would but we have to scurry away before we can do anything if my father looked out the window and saw us who knows the kinda trouble we'd be in"

"I know. You're worth the trouble thought" he blushed "y/n, could I kiss you?"

"You may" I smiled holding his hand, he smiled back eagerly and pressed his lips against my own tenderly at first but his kisses for eager and excited pulling me closer to him his hands on my dress my body against his own till I pulled away

"Samuel" I giggled noticing how close he had pulled me

"Not tonight?"

"No, not tonight" I smiled

"Okay, sorry sweetheart"

"It's fine I don't blame you for getting excited"

"Well I should save my excitement. For once we're married"

"Samuel?"

"Yes my sweet y/n?"

"What father won't let us get married?"

"Then we can run away together, he can't stop us sweetheart. No matter what he does I'll find a way to marry you"

"You mean it? Honest and true?'

"Of course, I love you sweetheart I won't let him take you away from me"

"Aww Samuel you mean it?"

"Will all my heart my sweet y/n" he smiled giving me a kiss "don't you-"

"Of course I love you samuel"

"Umm maybe soon you'll be Mrs y/n Brawne"

"I do hope so"

"All though lady y/l/n is beautiful I want you to be my wife, soon my sweet girl. I promise. As soon as I can find and afford a ring worthy of your beautiful hand and of your family"

"Samuel I don't care if the ring impressed my family or not you could give me a ring of sapphire and gold or a ring carved from oak wood I'd still marry you"

"You would?"

"Of course I would" I smiled "I love you not some shiny rock" I giggled

"Okay, maybe a less expensive ring, then we can save up a little more for our pretty little house" he smiled "the one you liked down by the river"

"but perhaps of I talk to father and maybe you ask him maybe you could come live here"

"I don't think your father will like that y/n, he hates me"

"Well what do you expect sneaking out with his daughter"

"Well I can't help that I love his daughter so very much" he cooed giving me more kisses "I should get you back, don't want us to get on trouble then he might not ever let me marry you" he smiled so we took the blanket and lantern and we walked hand in hand back to the kitchen door "sleep well sweetheart, I'll come see you tomorrow night I promise"

"Rest well samuel, I'll miss you all the while" I smiled giving him a little kiss "I love you'

"I love you more. Now go on before it gets to late"

"I think it's quite late enough!" A voice shouted and I saw the open kitchen door there door my father he had seen us kissing, he had seen our hands intertwined he had see our embrace and heard the words we had exchanged

"Father!" I yelled

"I thought I made it clear you're not welcome here Brawne" my father glared

"I uhhh I uhh' samuel stuttered

"Go. Now. I don't want to see you on my land again or I'll have you arrested for trespassing" he warned and samuel nodded in fear "and you" he grabbed my arm forcing me inside

"Upstairs now! I will not have word of this reaching anyone else! I will not have my daughter out with some boy! Let alone that Brawne boy! You could have been seen! Spotted! Your reputation! How am I ever meant to wed you off to a good Lord when word gets around about you two in the gardens together" he snapped matching me though the house and back to my room "you are grounded young lady. And I forbid you to see that damn boy again!' he yelled before shutting and locking my door.

I had been locked away in my room for days, the only visitors and the cooks to bring my meals. I felt like a prisoner. I knew my father's rage and that it wouldn't subside quickly or easily. He was furious with me and what I had done. I sat in my chair reading my book as I watched the fire when I heard something strange a knock on my window I went opening it and giggled at the sight

"Samuel, what are you doing here?" I whispered helping him in where he had climbed up the wall

"I just… I had to see you y/n, I can't stay away from you this long it breaks my heart sweetheart" he cooed holding me tightly "I missed you so much my sweet girl"

"I missed you too samuel, but we can't father will be even more furious"

"Then we won't go out we'll stay right here" he smiled "I have missed your face. Your sweet hands. your beautiful kisses. My sweetheart I can't bear to be parted from you. Please let me… let me be with you. I know we wanted to wait until we were married but. I fear he will wed you off and send you away before I am able to get you a ring, or he'll send you away before we can run off. Please… I want to be with you, I want to give myself to you my lady," he explained "even if I can't be with you the rest of my life, I want us to be together in this moment so I have the memory of you forever."

"Samuel… Do you mean that?"

"I do sweetheart. I mean it with all my heart. I… I want to give my innocence to you, and if I may take yours I will hold it close to my heart always" he smiled

"Okay"

"You- you mean it?"

"Of course I do." I smiled pulling him close and kissing his sweet lips, pulling him closer he pulled me closer too so not an inch of us was apart I began rather quickly pulling at his jacket and shirt undoing the buttons there's he eagerly began at the ties of my dress I managed to get his shirt off exposing his bare skin and he tugged off my dress leaving me naked before him

"christ your fucking beautiful!" He moans grabbing me hard and kissing me "I've waited for this for so long sweetheart. Your more beautiful than I ever imagined, I pray I do not disappoint you"

"You won't, I know it" I smiled...

I smiled wider than I ever had in my life, nuzzled into his cosy shoulder and neck, my hand against his smooth chest, his arms around me one playing gently with my hair the other stroking my skin the heat of our bodies still, the covers around his loosely, our breaths and hearts still racing

"Are you happy samuel?" I asked

"Humm happier than I have ever been, sweetheart. Are you happy?"

"I am, I love you" I cooed cuddling him tighter

"I love you more. I should go soon don't want your father finding us like this"

"He'd murder you"

"I know. Your worth it though" he smiled "your worth everything sweetheart"

"What are we going to do?"

"I'm going down to the city next week. I'm going to see what kind of ring I can get for you and then I'll be back to talk to your father. And if that doesn't work sweetheart I'll climb up here help back you up and we'll run off somewhere just you and me"

"You promise?" I asked

"I promise, on our love my sweet y/n" he smiled kissing my hand

"I imagine you might be climbing in my window before then as well?"

"I might, if my lady will let me make love to her again, I'll be back every night sweetheart"

"I'll think about it, not to much the more you visit the more likely my father will find you here"

"Then I best vanish into the night, before everyone knows the lady y/l/ns reputation has been muddied" he smirked peppering kisses across me "her innocent given so willingly, her perfect flower plucked so easily, the town would crucify us they found out what we'd done"

'they would, unmarried, unengaged, unbetrothed, and having made love"

"Your father would have a very hard time selling you off to a lordly boy, if he knew you were no longer a maiden"

"Father has suspected I wasn't a maiden since I was fourteen. He thinks you and I have long before now"

"I wanted to," he admits, "when we first started seeing each other but I wanted to wait to save ourselves for our wedding night. Guess I couldn't wait that long. But I'm happy even if we can't be together that we got to spend this night together"

"We'll be together samuel I promise. Even if I have to run away from my husband we'll be together"

I had hid myself away, my father still angry with me so he didn't see me much anyway, even when people did come to see me often I refused to allow them. The only one who knew why was the cook as she brought my meals she swore to secrecy and would often come sit with me.

"Your father's having meetings"

"Hum?"

"Meetings with these lord boys. Trying to get you sold off"

"Well I'm not sure that's going to work" I laughed "oww! Oh… please quiet down" I sighed holding my stomach,

"How much longer?"

"I don't know."

"Have you told samuel?"

"No, since my father kicked him out I haven't seen much of him not sure why. He'll be back for me he promised" I said stroking my stomach

"It's not going to be long my lady. You will have to tell your father you can't hide a screaming baby in your room"

"I know,"

"What's going on?" My father asked having opened my door I quickly wrapped myself in a blanket "go" he told the cook so she nodded and left "y/n. Please my sweet daughter. Just tell me what's going on. Why won't you leave your room. What's going on" he asked shutting the door and coming closer

"Father… I will if you promise not to hurt him"

"Hurt who?"

"Samuel"

"... Fine. I will not hurt him. Now tell me what's wrong"

I simply moved my blankets and he saw

"This… this is his fault?'

"Yes father"

"You love him? Truly don't you?"

"I do."

"Then I shall go and find him"

"Father you promised-"

"I will find him. A father should be present when his babies are born, I might not like him but it's too late for anything else you may marry quickly before the child is born but we must hide it away once it's born so people don't ask questions"

I smiled sitting in bed knitting having a giggle as I could hear samuel complaining all the way from downstairs about why he was boarder line abducted from town this afternoon till he was pushed through my door

"Y/n!" He smiled running over and giving me a kiss "ohh I missed you sweetheart"

"Why didn't you come see me?" I asked

"Your father, he posted someone under your window I kept trying to see you but I couldn't I'm so sorry I was gone so long what's going on?"

"My father knows samuel"

"He.. he knows!"

"He does, and we are allowed to marry"

"You mean it! Oh my sweet y/n" he cooed giving me a million kisses "why did he change heart all of a sudden I thought he hated me?"

"Ohh he does, but something he can't change' I smiled moving his hand to my stomach gently pulling back the covers to reveal myself

"You… your… your pregnant. Aww sweetheart, we get to get married and have a little baby. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't come visit, I'm not sure when he'll come but I think soon father says we must marry soon before baby comes"

"That's perfectly fine with me sweetheart, uhh here. I kept it for you" he smiled, getting a beautiful silver and blue ring from his pocket "so? Will you marry me my sweet y/n"

"I will samuel" I smiled so he happily put it in my finger

"My sweet beautiful wifey, and our perfect little baby. I can't wait to have you both on my arms and scream at the top of my lungs to the whole world how much I love you" he smiled giving me and then my bump a kiss.

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thewildomega · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chance Ch.12

Looking up at the giant ship with the blue whale as the figure head you tilted your own head. Ed had told you that his own main ship had been sunken during the war so you guessed this was one of his other ones. Seeing how big this one was made you wonder how large the actual Moby Dick had been. It seemed to be made up of mid-colored wood with the white and navy blue trim. The many sails were up since it was docked but the Whitebeard flag flew proudly at the top of the mast. Seeing all the ropes and stuff you could only imagine how many people it took to run a ship like this even more so with the paddlewheels on the back. Swinging your feet you looked back down to the drawing you had made of the ship. Humming along to the music as you added in details and such.

"Of course, why would she sit where it was safe..." he grumbled to himself as he finally caught sight of the woman who held his heart. Looking out to where she sat on he sighed. Somehow or another she had managed to get herself out onto one of the larger rocks in the sea that was the closest to the whaleship. She was just sitting there, her feet swinging idly and doing something that he couldn't really make out. "Y/n!" he called but she wouldn't look his way. Trying twice more she still didn't hear him. He wondered if the waves crashing against the rocks were the cause of it. Sighing out he started to jump across the rocks towards her. Finally getting to the one she was on he moved to stand right behind her, looking down to see she had her headphones in. 'Well that explained her not hearing him.' Seeing something in her lap he leaned forward some and peeked over her shoulder.

A sudden shadow coming over you made you knit your brows and look up to the sky, was it clouding up? Seeing a face you let out a yelp and lost hold of your book. Panicking when you thought it would fall into the water you saw a large hand come out to grab it just in time and sighed. Snatching your headphones from your ears you turned around to give him a small glare. "Stop sneaking up on me." you scowlded, smacking one of his large legs that was beside you.

Huffing out in amusement he smirked and looked down at her, noticing that when she was sitting she only came up to his knee. "You're the one that makes it so easy darling." When she stuck her tongue out at him in reply he chuckled and lifted her notebook. "What were you doing out here anyway?

Seeing him go to look through your notebook you quickly stood and moved to take it from him. "Just doodling and stuff."

Holding it out of her reach when he saw the slight blush on her cheeks he grinned. "Doodling what lass?"

"Just little things, now give it back." you grunted. Wrapping your arms around his large biceps you attempted to haul yourself up or pull his arm down but neither happened as he just held you in the air like you weighed nothing more than a bag of flour.

"I want to see what some of the other dreams are on your list." he smiled.

"No." Jumping up to try and grab it he only held it above his head, even further out of your reach.

Humming he rose one of his brows, "Why not?"

"B..because there mostly stupid things... most of them are places back in my world I wanted to see."

"A person's dreams are never stupid. Most may be places but not all so I'm still curious." Seeing her go to try and grab it again he moved out of the way and jumped to the next rock then the next and back towards shore.

"Edward Newgate! You give me back my notebook right now or so help me I will kick your old ass!" you yelled as you picked up your phone and headphones, jumping after him at a slower pace than he was going. Hearing his loud laugh you narrowed your eyes and growled. By the time you got back to shore he was gone and you were trying to figure out which way he went. "So much for acting your age." you grumbled. Feeling a pull in your chest you decided to follow it and ran as fast as you could.

He had been running for a short time before he slowed down into a walk, moving towards the small patch of trees and shrubs to hide behind. Sitting down in the grass he opened the small notebook up to the first page to see a quote,

A ship in port is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. Sail out to sea and do new things. ~Grace Hopper

Smiling at that he flipped through the first couple dozen pages to see small things written out, lists of things she needed to do with some things crossed off, recipes, dates to remember, a list of books. Opening the book to the next page he felt this one heavier than the other and opened it to see a small picture taped sideways to the page. Turning the book so he could see it better he saw it was a picture of a man and woman with five small children sitting all around them. Knitting his brows he looked to the couple and noticed they looked a lot like y/n. The picture looked a little old and he noticed it had a few blotches here and there. Looking back to the family he frowned, were they her parents? She said she didn't know where they were, that she hadn't ever met them, had she lied to him? Feeling the next page heavy as well he turned it and saw a pressed daffodil, written at the bottom was 'Ed'. She had wanted to remember the flowers he had given her. A few more little things went on for a while again until he came to a sketch. A sketch of the whaleship. She had done a pretty good job of drawing the ship out, she had even drew his flag beneath it. Still hung up on the fact that she may had lied to him he only felt his lip lift up a little. Going to the next section in the back of the book he found what he had been looking for.

Bucket List

Meet my parents. (Almost illegible)

Climb a mountain.

Fly in a plane.

Ride on a ship.

Canno the Smith River.

Make a friend.

See a shooting star.

Visit the Grand Canyon.

See the Niagara falls.

See the ocean.

Jump off a waterfall.

Take an art class.

Read The Great Gatsby.

Watch Dances with Wolves without falling asleep.

Go on a date.

Find a four leaf clover.

Touch a cloud.

See a shark/dolphin.

Get my first kiss.

WHAT?! She has never been kissed?! They had almost... last week. Wait, if she has never even been kissed has she never... Swallowing hard he rubbed his face. He would have to come back to that.

Mean something to someone.

That made him frown, his brows furrowing down and his heart ache.

Be apart of a family.

Sighing he dropped his head. He knew what that felt like, knew what it was like to have no one. Going to lift his head up to read again he was knocked to the ground suddenly, letting out a small 'ooff' on the way.

"Ha! Got you!" you hummed. Grabbing hold of your notebook you went to pull it from his hand, "I'll take that thank you..." When he still didn't let go you groaned but didn't get time to protest anymore before a large arm wrapped around you and pulled you to the ground beside him. "Eddddd." you whined. Trying to wiggle out of his hold to no avail you looked to see his face serious.

Laying beside her he held her still as he flipped to the page with the picture on it. He had to know, had to know if she had lied to him. "Who is this?" He asked in a firm voice. Seeing her face fall and her eyes quickly look away from the picture he frowned. "Are they your parents?"

"Yes." you whispered.

"You told me you had never met them." he said confused. He didn't want to seem angry at her but he also didn't like the idea of that she had lied to him either.

Hearing how deep his voice was you knit your brows, "I.. I haven't."

"Then how did you get their picture?" Seeing her frame curl inward some he took a deep breath, he would get nothing out of her if he didn't calm down. "I don't mean to sound angry lass I just... I don't understand."

Glancing back to the picture you felt a lump in your throat grow but quickly swallowed it down. "I looked them up..." when he knit his brows you licked your lips. "Remember that thing I was using, my laptop. I told you about the internet and how it had all this information on it." Seeing him nod you looked to him, "Well a few years ago I got up the courage to look up my parents. I didn't know anything but their names but after a while I managed to track them down. I don't know where they are exactly, just a general location. Anyways I saw that picture there and I got so happy, they were still together and I had brothers and sisters. I sent them a message telling them who I was and how I wanted to meet them, I told them how long I had been hoping to find them." Stopping to get ahold of your emotions you looked away from him, "It took a few days and I remember losing hope but then when I got home one night I had a message from them, my mother." taking a deep breath you looked down to his blond hair that was laying across his arm and onto yours some. "She told me that she was sorry but they had moved on from that time in their lives. They had started a new life with their children and they didn't want me to intrude on that. They apparently hadn't told any of my siblings about me and never wanted them to know. She said that if I really cared about them I would be happy for them and respect their wishes, that I would never try to contact them or anyone else in that family again." Feeling your lip try to tremble you bit down on it. "I printed out their picture because... well I don't really know why..." you huffed sadly. "I guess because even if they could forget me, that that didn't mean I could forget them."

He felt like such an asshole. She hadn't lied to him, she had never lied to him. She just didn't want to be reminded of more pain. His own parents had died, he hadn't been orphaned by choice, she had. He couldn't imagine ever doing that to a child. To make them feel what his lass felt, unwanted, even by her parents. The thought alone angered him and he wished he was back in her world just so he could hunt down all of the people that had ever hurt his darling.

Sniffling you took a deep breath and grabbed the book from him, closing it. Looking up into his warm yellow eyes you slowly felt your pain go away and a sense of ease come over you. Wanting to break this sad moment you grinned a little and stood, feeling his arm loosen to allow it this time. Stepping over him you looked down his wide, toned back and hummed, swinging your foot you turned it and kicked him square in his no doubt muscled ass.

Feeling her kick him, not hard enough to actually hurt but hard enough that he could feel it he felt his eyes go wide and snapped his eyes up to her. "Wha.."

"I told you I was going to kick your old ass." you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You sure you want to challenge Whitebeard darling?"

"Won't be much of a challenge with you loosing and all..." When the great Capitan only narrowed his eyes, a playful but dangerous look coming over his face you smiled and quickly ran for it. Only getting a few meters away before a light tremor shook the ground and put you off balance. Going to fall you were swept up and tossed over the massive man's shoulder like a bag of rice.

"What was that about me loosing?" He asked with a smirk.

"I was talking about swimming." you giggled but only heard him hum before laughing.

.........................

"What are you looking at hun?" Zella asked her husband who was looking down towards the valley with a soft smile on his face.

Chuckling lightly the phoenix smiled, "Nothing." Turning away from the playing man and woman by the trees, giving his pops some privacy.

............................................

Waking up suddenly he snapped his eyes open and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. Something felt off, knowing that usually that feeling meant something involving his soulmate he got up from bed and quietly walked from the room. Seeing the bathroom door open he knew she wasn't in there. Making his way across the living room he looked down to the couch and found it empty. Quickly looking to the kitchen and dining room he saw them both empty as well and felt his brows lower. Snapping his eyes to the door he saw it unlocked, she had left the house. With a deep breath he made his way out to find her, letting his heart guide him to her.

Having woke up covered in a cold sweat and panting for air you shakingly stood from where you were sleeping and hurried outside. You didn't exactly know where you were going you just knew you had to walk, had to get away to clear your mind. Before long you had made your way down to the beach and sank down to sit in the cool sand. Pulling your knees up to your chest and hugging them you rested your chin on them and closed your eyes. Taking a deep breath you let it out in a long sigh. Thinking back to your dream you swallowed hard.

Sitting on the cold wooden floor in the middle of the dark room you breathed heavily and looked around, "Hello? Is anyone there?" No one answered at first and you licked your lips. Looking down you saw you wearing old threadbare clothes like the ones you wore when you were living on the streets for those two years. Moving to push yourself up to stand you were suddenly struck across the left cheek and fell back to the floor, your hand flying up to your burning face.

"Despicable girl."

Snapping your eyes up to the familiar female voice you saw your grandmother standing there in her usual red dress, a deep scowl on her wrinkled face. Shaking your head a little you turned to move away from her when you were stuck again, this time the hand a little larger, rougher.

"Worthless."

Your grandfather, a look of distaste in his eyes as he looked down his nose at you.

"You should have never been born." your grandmother snapped.

"No one wants her, she's so ugly."

Seeing your great aunt had joined them you swallowed hard.

"What a waste of life." Your cousin spoke.

"Stupid."

"Loser."

"...going to grow up to be a common harlot, just like her mother."

"Unsightly."

"Useless."

One by one more people crowded around you, striking you and calling out insults. Everytime you tried to get up you were hit back down to the floor until soon you could do nothing but curl up into a ball, your hands over your ears and your eyes shut tight as you tried to drown out what they were saying. When their voices got louder you felt tears fill your eyes and you started to scream.

"They're right you know."

Gasping you heard all of the other voices stop and opened your eyes to see them all gone. Turning your head you looked around the dark room until you saw him. Watching as he crouched down in front of you you stared up into those yellow eyes. Something wasn't right, why did they look so cold? Swallowing hard you parted your lips to speak, "E..ed..."

"They're right."

Furrowing your brows you licked your dry, cracked lips and started to shake your head. Before you could speak he started laughing.

"Did you really think I would ever want you?"

That wasn't his normal laugh, wasn't the one you had heard so many times before, the one that made your heartbeat a little harder in your chest. Feeling tears well up in your eyes you blinked and felt them roll down your burning cheeks.

"You're so pathetic. No one wants you, you don't mean anything to anyone, especially me." he huffed.

Feeling the lump in your throat burn you let out a little sob.

"Why would I want someone as ugly as you by my side?"

"P..plea..sssse ssstop..." you cried. Feeling him curl his finger under your chin and lift your eyes to his you looked up at him through your tears.

"I will never love you."

It felt like someone had stuck a knife straight through your heart. Feeling his finger slip from you, you dropped your head to the wooden floor and curled up as tight as possible as sobs wracked your body. You heard his deep chuckle and then the sound of his boots walking away before you were left alone in the cold darkness.

Feeling something wet land on your cheek you opened your heavy eyes and stared out at the sea, the moon reflecting off of the dark surface. Curling up tighter if possible you sniffled, another tear rolling down. It felt so real, all of it. The clenching in your heart as well. As much as you hated it you couldn't help but wonder if this was a warning of some kind. There was no doubt in your mind that you were falling for Edward, never in your life had you felt this connection with anyone, this longing, this happiness. But what if it was all too good to be true? What if he didn't feel the same? Would he grow tired of you soon as well? Would he throw you away like everyone else had? Then you would be alone again. You didn't want to be alone anymore. You didn't want to hurt anymore.

Looking out to the moonlit shore he saw her and started walking forward. What the hell was she doing out here? It was the middle of the night and she was in nothing but his damn shirt. Getting closer he went to call out for her but stopped when he saw the shining tears rolling down her cheeks. He had only seen her cry that once, when he had stopped that man from raping her. Just the sight alone made his heart ache. She looked so fragile to him in that moment with her body curled up as tight as she could, clad only in his button up shirt that was too big on her. Her hair was blowing wildly around her with tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't look hurt to him, not physically but she was hurting that much was clear. Slowly walking over to her he saw her glossy eyes stay on the dark sea before snapping to him once he got close enough.

"E..ed..." your voice was nothing more than a broken whisper. Quickly remembering that you were crying you looked away when you saw him looking down at you with concern clear on his face. Wiping at your cheeks and eyes you mentally started cursing yourself for no doubt looking so incredibly pathetic. Here you were crying on the beach in the middle of the night, STUPID!

Not saying anything at first he crouched down beside her, placing his hand on her back. Hearing her start apologizing for waking him and telling him to go back to his home in a soft, saddened voice he furrowed his brows. When she still refused to look at him he tilted his head. "Lass, look at me."

His voice sounded so deep and low, you knew he wasn't asking. That was the voice of a captain giving an order, just maybe a little softer that he would have been with his crew. Screwing your eyes shut you tried to force away your previous emotions, not wanting to look weak.

"Y/n."

Swallowing hard at the way he said your name you slowly moved your eyes out from where you had hid them in your knees to look up at the giant of a man. You thought he might be angry, that he might be annoyed but that wasn't the case. Those weren't the cold eyes from your dream, those were warm and kind and caring. Just one look made you feel so much, his touch, his smell, his... everything. Never before had you felt so alive than you did when you were with him. How could one man, one person cause so many feelings inside of you? He made you want to smile, want to laugh and cry and... love. You loved him. YOU LOVED HIM! It was like someone had hit you with a ton of bricks and all too soon you were crying again. No, no you couldn't love him because if you loved him there was no going back. If you loved him and he didn't love you then it would break you. If you loved him and he tossed you away then it would kill you. Oh God it hurt, just the thought alone hurt, it hurt so bad.

Seeing her start crying again, her body curling up and her fingers dig into her arm he felt his heart throb. "What's wrong? Y/n, darling tell me what's wrong." he spoke in a deep voice, kneeling down to place both of his hands on her, trying to comfort her.

His touch was like a warm blanket and his voice a light shining at you from the darkness. "I'mmm afffraid." you cried without looking up at him. There were so many emotions hitting you all at once. Shame, embarrassment, fear, uncertainty, sure, delightled, doubtful...love."

Afraid. First thing that popped in his head was him, was she afraid of him? Many people were. He was sure he had never given her reason to be though, he was careful around her. "Of what, afraid of what?" She didn't answer him for sometime and he feared it was him but then she spoke one quiet word that made it all clear.

"Feeling."

He knew her past, knew what she had been through. The past was hard, it was for most and some never recovered from things that happened to them. It could make people bitter, angry and afraid. His lass had been hurt time and time again. She had been tossed aside, given away and never given the chance to develop any real relationships in her life. Everyone she had ever trusted had hurt her and so she had shut herself off. She didn't have any friends, didn't try and make friends because she was scared of being hurt again. Now though he assumed she was feeling the same thing as him and that scared her. Taking a deep breath he gently lifted her up into his arms, feeling her not even fight him. Holding her close he dipped his head down and closed his eyes, "I know you've been hurt before and this scares you but Y/n you have my word that I will never make you feel what they did. I will never leave you. I will never hurt you." he promised her in a low, deep voice.

You wanted to believe him, you really, really did but you were still afraid. Still unsure. People had made you promises before and never kept them, were his just empty words as well. Would he grow tired of you or change his mind?

Feeling her body remain tense he turned his face to her head, touching his lips and chin to her forehead. Letting out a sigh he stroked her thigh with his thumb. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid lass. Just means I'm going to have to work on making those fears go away. I'm going to spend the the rest of my days proving to you how wonderful you truly are."

"Wwwhy? Why would you... why do you c...care?" you asked in a broken cry.

Smiling he breathed in the scent of her hair, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. "Because lass, I love you."

Gasping you opened your eyes, looking at the skin over his hard chest, feeling his heart thumping in your ear. A tear rolled down your cheek at his confession, the words you never thought you would hear anyone say to you. "Yo....uuu...mmmee?"

"Need me to say it again darling? I'll tell you everyday." he grinned. "I love you."

Fresh tears poured form your eyes but these were not from the sadness or loneliness you were so accustomed to crying about, no for the first time in your life, these were tears of pure joy.

He hadn't been expecting her arms to wrap around his neck, nor her face to nuzzle into his neck as she cried but he wouldn't complain. Wrapping his own arms around her he hugged her as tight as he could without crushing her.

Swallowing thickly you felt a burst of courage come over you and smiled, you couldn't exactly leave him hanging."I love you."

Smiling from ear to ear he turned his face to press a kiss to her head. "You really do know how to make this old man feel young again lass." he chuckled and heard her hum softly. When she nuzzled into his neck more, her arms still latched onto him with no signs of letting go he grinned and stood, holding her to him with one arm under her ass and the other over her back. Walking back to his home he carried her inside and locked the door. Passing by the couch he felt her head perk up some and grinned but said nothing as he walked back to his room... their room.

"Ed..."

"No more sleeping on the damn couch." he told her in a firm voice, moving into the dark room and over to the bed. Laying her down on the side closest to the wall he got in beside her and pulled the covers over the both of them. He could tell she was a little apprehensive so he got comfortable on his side, facing her, gently pushing her down to lay beside him. "Go ta sleep darling." he told her in a gentle voice.

With his arm wrapped around you, holding you to his chest you slowly relaxed, letting out a sigh. Closing your eyes you listened to the sound of his beating heart, felt the warmth of his body seep into yours.

Listening as her breathing turned deep, her body going limp against him he grinned softly. Placing a gentle kiss to her temple he felt her face nuzzle into his chest. "Goodnight my darlin'."

#Whitebeard #whitebeard one piece #one piece whitebeard #whitebeard x reader #edward newgate #feedback would be appreciated #edward newgate x reader #one piece #One Piece Fanfiction

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autumnslance · 4 years ago

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FFXIVWrite2020 #16: Lucubration

A rapping at his window startled Thancred, sending his pen scratching across the parchment and ruining the line. He growled in annoyance and looked to see just who the bloody hells was interrupting his work.

It was Yda, shifting nervously from one foot to the other on the balcony. She must have hopped up the same way he often did, with help from the grand old tree in the Leveilleur yard.

“Can I help you?” He asked as he opened the window. When last he had looked out, the sun was still just above the western hills; now night had fallen on Sharlayan, the moons and stars wheeling overhead.

“Have you seen Lyse?” She asked, trying--and failing--to keep panic from her tone.

“I haven’t seen anyone since—” he glanced at the chronometer finally and rubbed his eyes. “Since dinner at least. Bells ago.” He gestured at his desk (and the page he was going to have to rewrite, godsdammit). “I’ve an essay due to Master Fraeskoef in the morning.”

“What you get for taking advanced literary analysis as an elective.”

“It’s actually part of my main curriculum now,” he replied with a yawn.

She looked skeptical. “Still not sure what stories and songs have to do with your particular skill studies.”

“That’s why they’re mine, while yours are rather more straightforward. Anyroad, why are you looking for Lyse this time of night? Shouldn’t the little rapscallion be tucked in her bed?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be here,” Yda replied, exasperated. “I know she’s been bothering you lately, so I’d hoped she came here to show off what she swiped.”

“Swiped? Since when is Lyse a thief?” Thancred asked.

“I assumed you’ve been feeding her stories again,” Yda said darkly, then shook her head. “Also, Mister Perception, haven’t you noticed something missing?”

He blinked, then realized just what did seem so wrong.

“Your mask,” he answered. He could count on one hand the times he’d seen Yda without her turban and the mask worn either on its front or down over her eyes. A couple times had been summer days of swimming and silliness in the Thaliak, the others rare festival days where she instead wore her traditional Ala Mhigan dress.

“If she’s taken it in a fit I—” Yda shook her head. “I need to find her. But now I don’t know where to look, if she isn’t pestering you.”

Thancred thought for a moment. Sharlayan was a large city, sprawling on either side of the river. There were plenty of places a nine year old girl might hide.

Assuming, of course, the girl stayed in the city.

“I have an idea,” Thancred said, turning to grab his shoes. “She mentioned something, the last time she was…” he paused.

Lyse had come running up to him earlier that day as he had been on his way home from a particularly strenuous cat-and-mouse session with Master Enfel Hopfel. Thancred recalled being short with the child, wanting to get home to clean up, eat, and get to work on his other assignments before crashing to sleep and doing it all again tomorrow. The road to becoming an Archon--particularly if one was attempting to speed down it, having had to already play catch up at basic academia with his peers--was a busy one, not leaving much time for playing with energetic little girls.

“Last time she what?” Yda asked.

He really looked at Yda. Like him, she had dark circles under her eyes, and more than a few bruises and scrapes from her own rigorous training. Yda had long since determined that she would become an Archon to best take care of her little sister in their adopted homeland, and to repay Papalymo and the others for their aid. Hells, her immigrant status and more physically based studies had been a large chunk of Thancred’s inspiration for his own scholastic pursuits.

But it didn’t leave Yda much spare time, either.

“I may have blown Lyse off this afternoon,” Thancred said, pulling on his shoes as he hopped out the window to join Yda. “She was mentioning something about the hills beyond the Arboretum. Between the two of us we should be able to track her down.”

Yda looked a little pale at the thought. “You’re better at that than me. Gods, I hope she didn’t go out there; there’s bears in those hills.��

“Then let’s hurry,” he said, using the balcony’s railing to swing down to the ground. Waiting the brief moment it took Yda to join him, he noted Master Louisoix’s study window also still had a light on; not unusual for the old man.

The pair padded through the streets. Others wandered by, visions passing between the glow of streetlamps and shadows, moving to and from libraries, laboratories, and homes. A few still-open cafes glowed warm and inviting, hosting late night study groups and silent social readers, sipping their beverages while taking in the ambience with their books.

As they crossed the courtyard of the Arboretum, Thancred glanced at Yda. “You know, I’ve never asked just why you always wear that old mask.”

“I guess I’ve never said,” she replied, frowning slightly. “I...well, I don’t know how to say it without...sounding callous.”

“Callous?” As if that word could ever describe a Hext.

“Father gave it to me.”

Ah. Family things. No wonder Yda hadn’t mentioned it.

“He wanted to keep me safe,” Yda continued. “So it was to hide my identity while in the Rebellion. We were fighting our own people at first--the Corpse Brigade could be damned nasty, and they didn’t care much that I was just a kid.”

She wasn’t that much older, honestly, but a few years at their respective ages could make drastic differences--more so when one fought in war.

“Then there were the Garleans...And they were worse.” Yda’s eyes scanned the brush line as they passed the edge of town and the ground began to slope up. “Our father was a leader, and he had made a lot of enemies.”

“I can imagine.” It seemed polite to say something, at least. Thancred began to look for signs of a little girl’s passage, while still listening to Yda.

“When he was gone...I don’t know. We weren’t able to take much with us, you know. I worried more about getting Lyse somewhere safe than any of our possessions, even Mother’s heirlooms...So the mask is what I have.”

“And she knows how important it is to you.”

“Sort of,” Yda said. “I...I’m really not sure how well she remembers him. Or any of what happened before we came here; she was so little. I know she doesn’t remember Mother.”

I can’t remember anyone, he thought. Out loud, he said, “Well, you do all right. We just have to find her.” He pointed to a narrow little trail. “This way.”

“You’re sure?”

Thancred nodded. “Stay quiet.”

Yda nodded, and they continued on. It was only a few more yalms and around a bend in the hill before they found the child, sitting on a log that had fallen across a deep ditch, forming a natural bridge. Her legs swung as she sang a little song to herself, the mask on her face.

“Lyse!” Yda called, running forward.

Lyse jumped, nearly rolling off the log in surprise. “Yda! Thancred!”

“I was so worried about you!” Yda exclaimed, stopping just at the edge of the ditch. “You could have been hurt and we wouldn’t have known!”

“You found me anyway.” She sounded petulant.

“I found you,” Thancred said, walking up to the tree trunk, pulling himself up, and then flipping into a handstand, hoping to amuse her. “You were trying to tell me about this earlier, weren’t you?”

Lyse glowered, her expression visible behind the too-big mask. “Yeah, but you were a jerk and now I don’t want you here.”

Ouch. He flipped back down to land on the trunk a good fulm from her. He didn’t bother to hide his hurt; Lyse had never spoken to him that way before.

“Lyse!” Yda admonished. “Don’t be rude! Thancred’s—”

“Busy!” Lyse shouted, the words echoing off the nearby hills. “Just like you! Always busy, all the time, studying and taking tests and doing homework and I hate it and I hate this place and I ha—” she hiccuped into tears before she could get out the rest.

Thancred looked helplessly at Yda, remembering to shut his jaw after a moment. Younger sibling tantrums were well outside his wheelhouse.

Yda closed her eyes, counting silently, before making her own way onto the fallen tree. Lyse was now between them, arms crossed tight against her chest as she tried to remain angry, though silent tears slid from under the mask and glimmered on her cheeks in the starlight.

“I’m sorry,” Yda said. “I have been really busy lately. We all have.” She glanced over at Thancred.

He cleared his throat. “I suppose I did snap earlier,” he said finally. “I wasn’t actually mad at you, though; just tired.”

Lyse tried to speak, but it came out as a whine and she clamped her jaw tight again.

“We’re always tired,” Yda said, voice cracking. “And always busy, and always doing something...except spending time with you. That’s my fault. I can do better. Will you let me?”

Lyse breathed heavily for a short time, thinking. It didn’t take long; she turned and flung herself into her sister’s waiting arms, almost sending them both tumbling backwards off the log. Thancred let out a sigh of relief as Yda’s strong legs remained hooked under the wood, holding them both as she cradled Lyse, stroking the girl’s back.

Thancred looked up at the night sky, not wanting to intrude more than he already was. It was hard to know what to say or do in such a situation.

So he sang.

Quietly, at first, starting with the song Lyse had been singing when they had found her. He figured out a way to transition it into an Ala Mhigan folk tale he had stumbled across in his studies. Lyse leaned on Yda, her ragged breath slowly evening out, both of them listening. By the time the last note faded into the clear night air, Lyse had quietly pulled the mask off and offered it back to Yda.

“I just...wanted to have something of you with me,” she said quietly.

Yda chuckled. “Whenever you like--just maybe ask next time.” She kissed Lyse’s forehead.

There was a strange, lonely ache in Thancred’s chest as he watched them, but he couldn’t help a smile, either. “It’s a bit chilly, and rather late for both students and little girls,” he said. Then he held up a finger. “But! A night this nice shouldn’t be wasted, don’t you think?”

Yda raised a brow as she affixed her mask to her turban again. “Don’t you have an essay due in the morning?”

He shrugged, propping a foot on the tree trunk. “Honestly I was writing myself in circles; a break will do me good. I can come up with something to tell Master Fraeskoef, not to worry,” he waved a hand dismissively.

Yda shook her head, smirking. Lyse looked down thoughtfully, then at Thancred. “I don’t actually hate you, you know. I’m sorry for what I said.”

He reached over to give her blond ponytail a tug, presenting a little white flower for her before she could scold. “I know,” he said with a wink, tucking the bloom behind her ear. “But thank you. I’m sorry too, for what it’s worth.”

He hadn’t known for sure, actually, and it was nice to hear. He could keep that to himself, though.

The trio watched the moons and stars wheel over Dravania for another bell, worries of studies put off until the morrow.

#FFXIVWrite2020 #Final Fantasy XIV #Thancred Waters #Yda Hext #Lyse Hext #Sharlayan #Dravania #Lyn Writing #Friendship #pre-canon

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gatesofember · 4 years ago

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The Ballad of Ladon Creek

Chapter 1

Wild West au | Pairing: Solangelo | Rating: T | Read it on AO3 | Next Chapter

Summary: Doctor Will Solace had lived in the secluded Oregon town of Ladon Creek for a year when a mysterious stranger arrived and turned his world upside down.

For @solangeloweek’s auctober

In the years after the Civil War, a young woman by the name of Hazel Levesque discovered a massive supply of gold in the hills near Ladon Creek. With the help of a few close friends, she established her own mine—something that she should not have been able to do, because Miss Levesque was not only female, but black, as well. At the time, blacks had been prohibited from entering the state of Oregon at all; they certainly weren’t granted the right to own property. It had taken some clever manipulation and sneaking around to have the land registered in her name.

The mine brought so many settlers in its first year of operation that one of Miss Levesque’s friends—Miss Annabeth Chase—designed a town named Ladon Creek after the nearby river. It was the largest town for miles but not far from Grande Ronde and it sat largely undisturbed by the county marshal and outside lawmen. That, and the fact that it had been founded by a black woman and her friends, was why Ladon Creek had attracted all manner of social outcasts and “undesirables” in the years since the mine’s opening—one of whom being Dr. William Solace.

Dr. Solace had kept to himself since arriving in Ladon Creek the year before. While his mother, Mrs. Naomi Solace, was a pleasant and sociable woman, Will never sought out companionship. Even when invited, he listened more than he spoke and hardly ever stayed long.

Still, Will remained well-liked in Ladon Creek. Something about him made people feel safe and comfortable. He was of average height and his posture was unthreatening. His face was handsome and smooth, his voice sounded pleasantly melodic, and his demeanor was gentle and calming. His hands felt soft like he’d never worked a day in his life, yet he labored over his patients so arduously that you might have thought they were his own kin. Every touch was careful and every word was warm.

On one bright summer afternoon, a stranger rode into Ladon Creek slouched on the back of a bay-coated horse. He was clothed almost entirely in black and his face was hidden in shadow under the brim of his dark hat. When he stopped a couple on the street and asked where he could find the doctor, they pointed him in the direction of Will’s clinic.

Will looked up when he heard the rustling outside his office and saw the black-clad stranger tying up his horse outside the windows. He noted a limp to the man’s gait and clicked his tongue. Wounded travelers came into his office too often for Will’s liking—out west, people were far too careless and the terrain was far too dangerous.

Will folded his hands on the desk in front of him as the man opened the door and walked inside. “You’re the doctor?” asked the stranger.

“Yes,” said Will. “How may I help you?”

The man took off his hat, revealing a head of unkempt black hair and a pair of bottomless dark eyes that reminded Will of staring into a well. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow and dark circles under his eyes, and Will almost feared the man might pass out right in the doorway of his clinic. But despite his obvious exhaustion, he was handsome in a rough kind of way—the dangerous sort of handsome that was best admired from afar.

“I’m looking to buy some bandages,” the man said.

Will glanced down at the leg the man had been favoring. “You have a name, stranger?” he asked.

“Di Angelo—Nico di Angelo,” the man replied.

“Well, then, Mr. di Angelo,” Will said, rising from his desk. “If you let me examine that leg, the bandages are free.”

To Will’s surprise, the man hesitated before nodding and taking off his duster, revealing the brown-stained bandage wrapped around his left thigh.

“Sit down,” Will said, gesturing to the exam table hidden from the view of the windows by a privacy curtain. He took Nico’s coat and hat and hung them by the door before joining him. Nico had already started unwrapping his bandages. The wound was messy, caked with dried blood and slowly oozing a cloudy yellow fluid. Will could tell it was at least a day or two old and that an infection was setting in.

“You must have gotten in quite a fight,” Will said, standing to fetch supplies to clean the wound. “Run into some trouble?”

Nico didn’t answer. Will hadn’t expected him to.

“I already got the bullet out and cleaned it,” Nico said.

“Good,” Will replied. “You probably held the infection off long enough to make it here, but you’re lucky I asked to see it—otherwise, you might’ve lost your leg.”

Will poured alcohol on a cleaning cloth and Nico tensed when it touched his wound, but held still and didn’t make a sound until Will had finished and applied a healing ointment. “You’ll need to stay in town a few days so I can keep an eye on your progress and care for your wound properly,” Will said. “Mrs. Jackson owns an inn a little ways down the road where you can rent a room. She’ll make sure you eat well and her son will take good care of your horse.”

Nico was quiet and for a moment, Will worried that he’d argue. But then he sighed and said, “I suppose there’s no helping it. Where can I find her?”

Will tried not to feel insulted by Nico’s obvious disappointment. “Only a few buildings down the road—I’ll take you there,” he said as he finished changing Nico’s bandages. “Wait here a moment.”

Will went into the back room of the clinic and retrieved a wooden crutch from his supplies, then returned and offered it to Nico. “You’ll need to use this to walk for a while,” he said. “Try to keep your weight off that leg as much as you can.”

Nico looked at Will with tired incredulity, like he couldn’t believe Will was forcing him to do all this, but he got to his feet and tested the crutch without complaining. Will handed Nico his hat and coat and brought him outside to where his mare was waiting. Will offered to lead her while Nico got used to his crutch, and Nico shrugged like he didn’t care one way or the other.

The Jacksons’ inn was a two-story building just a short walk away with blue painted siding and windows of natural pine. If he walked by at the wrong time, Will would smell a wonderful meal being prepared, which always left him hungry and jealous. He had been invited to join them for supper a handful of times, and each time he swore it was the best meal he’d ever had.

Mrs. Sally Jackson sat on a rocking chair on the front porch as Will and Nico approached, humming softly and holding her sleeping six-month-old baby against her chest. She looked tired, with a few brown and gray hairs out of place, but relaxed and happy.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Jackson,” called Will.

“Dr. Solace!” Mrs. Jackson said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have a patient in need of a room,” Will answered, nodding to Nico. “This is Mr. di Angelo. He’ll be staying here until his leg heals.”

“Poor thing,” Mrs. Jackson tutted as she rose from her chair, careful to not wake the baby. “Take a seat while I bring your horse to the stable out back, Mr. di Angelo. Doctor, I’m sorry to trouble you, but would you mind holding Estelle? Paul’s at the schoolhouse, Percy’s on the ranch, and poor Estelle has barely napped all day.”

“No trouble at all, Mrs. Jackson,” Will answered. Estelle stirred when Will took her, but she quickly fell asleep again in his arms.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Sally said before leading the horse around to the back of the building.

When Will glanced back at Nico, half expecting to find him passed out in the rocking chair, he was surprised to instead see Nico watching him with a curious, unnerving expression that made Will’s hair stand on end. He felt like he was being picked apart, dissected and examined like a dead animal. Will cleared his throat, but Nico kept staring—perhaps not even realizing what he was doing or not understanding that Will was trying to get him to stop.

“Your horse is lovely,” Will said, attempting to distract him instead. “What’s her name?”

Nico finally blinked and he looked thoughtful for a moment, like he’d never considered giving her a name. Then he said, “Cavala.”

“Cavala,” Will repeated, rubbing soft circles into Estelle’s back. “A beautiful name for a beautiful horse.”

Nico smiled, but it seemed more like he was enjoying a private joke than appreciating Will’s compliment. Still, the smile made Will’s heart rate pick up for a second and he almost worried the hammering would wake the baby sleeping against his chest. He glanced away and was glad to see Mrs. Jackson returning.

“Thank you for holding her,” she said when Will passed Estelle back.

“You’re very welcome,” Will said. “Don’t let her nap too much longer or she won’t want to sleep tonight.”

“I know, Doctor—this isn’t my first baby, it’s just been a while since my last,” said Mrs. Jackson. “I’ll set you up in a room on the ground floor so that you don’t have to bother with the stairs, Mr. di Angelo. My husband and my son should be home soon and Percy will look after your horse while Paul helps me with supper. Are you hungry?”

Nico looked at her blankly for a second before nodding, like it took a moment for his tired brain to comprehend what she was asking. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“I ought to head back to the clinic,” Will said, before the idea of a Jackson supper made him start to drool. “Come by tomorrow morning so I can check on your leg, Mr. di Angelo.”

Nico turned back to Will, once again fixing him with that unnerving stare, and slowly nodded.

When Will walked back to his clinic, he could still feel the stare on his back.

#Wild West au #solangelo #Nico di Angelo #Will Solace #solangelo fanfiction #solangelo fanfic #my fic

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