#and if it didn’t happen in canon i must make it happen myself
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lesiasmadness · 4 months ago
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You know when writers want to randomly make a guy fall ill they just call it a sick fick, buT WHEN I, VINDICTIVE BOG WITCH-
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roosterbox · 1 year ago
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Had this random thinky thought the other day.
Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.
“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”
Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.
But then.
The events of S4 happen.
Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.
Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.
He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.
Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.
But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.
“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.
Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.
And Wayne suddenly understands everything.
He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.
“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.
Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.
“Uhm,” Steve starts.
Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.
Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.
“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“
Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.
“Wayne Munson.”
Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.
“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.
“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”
There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.
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noellawrites · 1 month ago
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Belly of the Beast - Sonny Carisi x reader
summary: Reader has been hooking up with Sonny and gets kidnapped by William Lewis, who is determined to get them pregnant against their will. Reader does eventually become pregnant and is unsure of the paternity of the baby.
AFAB reader but no specific pronouns used.
warnings: rape, abduction, torture, pregnancy, discussion of abortion, canon-typical violence
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The night before you were taken was completely normal. No alarm bells ringing in your brain, no voice telling you not to go into work the following day. You were spending the night with your co-worker, Sonny Carisi, and having amazing sex as usual. It was the kind of intimate intercourse that was normal with him, making you feel so special and loved.
As detectives in the same Manhattan SVU squad, you had to keep your companionship a secret. You both loved your jobs and you knew it could cause trouble if anyone found out. Besides, Sonny was brand new to the squad, and you knew Liv would transfer one of you in a heartbeat if she found out.
It happened so fast. One moment you were grabbing a cup from the cabinet in your apartment, the next moment a gun was being held to your head.
“N-no, please—“ you gasp, mind racing. You were wearing your holster, but your gun was still locked in your safe. You weren’t thinking this morning. Your mind was scattered from last night’s events, and it was about to massively screw you over.
“Gotta say I’m offended, sweet cheeks. No warm welcome for an old friend?” William Lewis says with a sinister smile, “I just knew I had to come back for you, such a sweet young thing. Couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to you, to Olivia Benson’s protégée. Hit you both where it hurts.”
His sentence is punctuated with a swift slam of the gun to the side of your head, knocking you out cold on your kitchen floor.
The first thing you notice after regaining consciousness are the handcuffs attaching your hands to the pipes on the wall and binding your feet together.
The room you were in was bare except for the pipes, the cuffs and you. It looked to be a utility closet with no windows, only a lone lightbulb above you with a string attached.
Duct tape covered your mouth, leaving you unable to scream. You thrashed around, tugging on your cuffs, hoping someone might hear.
Your eyes darted around the room. Were you still in Manhattan? Were you even in New York anymore? You had no idea what time it was or even what day. Your squad had to be looking for you by now, after you didn’t show up at work.
You didn’t have to guess for long, because the door swung open to reveal William Lewis, smiling down at you.
“God, you’re even cuter than I remember. Knew I needed you right away,” he sighs, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.
“You scream, I shoot,” he says, hand moving to his side as he pulls out a gun and fixes it on you.
He leans over, tearing the duct tape off your mouth along with some of your skin.
“Gotta say, I’m pretty hurt. Detective Amaro leaves, new guy comes in and you start hooking up with him?” Lewis sighs, shaking his head.
“What do you want from me?” you huff, tugging on your handcuffs again.
“This time, I’m taking what’s mine,” he smirks, “I’ve got a bed set up for us. Thought of you with all the other holes I fucked, and I knew I had to get my hands on you myself.”
“What, you mean all the women and children you raped, beat and killed?” you snap, writhing around as he un-cuffs you from the pipes and then re-cuffs you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you the royal treatment. I’ve got something special for you, little one. You might’ve started out as Benson’s protégée, but you’ll end up carrying mine,” he laughs.
Your blood runs cold at his words, knowing he must be planning on raping you. You wracked your brain for all the delaying tactics that Olivia’s taught you, and everything she’s told you about Lewis’ temper.
Lewis leans over and pulls you up, grabbing his gun with the other hand and fixing it on you.
“You’re insane, you know that? I’m not letting you do this,” you grunt.
Lewis yanks the door open and pushes you out, hand holding onto your cuffed ones. You look around what appears to be an abandoned warehouse for a few seconds before you are pushed down onto a dirty mattress.
“Olivia wasn’t enough of a thrill, so you just had to come for me, is that it? What about Amanda, is she next?” you challenge.
“Olivia is boring and Amanda’s all used up,” he laughs, “you, however, are perfect for this.”
“What are you gonna do to me?” you hiss as Lewis turns you over, pinning your hands under your back.
“This sweet little womb is going to carry the next rapist, the next little life-ruiner,” Lewis says, fingers tracing over your lower stomach, “first, he’ll rip out of you, ruining your body forever. And then he’ll follow in his daddy’s footsteps when he grows up.”
“What makes you so sure you’ll get me pregnant? And that it’ll be a boy?” you huff.
Each word that came out of William Lewis’ mouth made you even more terrified, your mind racing to rescue yourself from this situation.
“I’m more than just a pretty face, Detective (y/l/n). Right now is your most fertile time, according to the chart you keep in your desk. And we both know you’re too sappy and weak to get an abortion,” he laughs, shaking his head at you. So weak, so pathetic. An SVU Detective who couldn’t even save themself from becoming a victim.
“That’s— you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gasp, thrashing around.
“Now you’re gonna make this hard on me? Fine,” he sighs, grabbing a bottle of alcohol from beside the mattress and unscrewing the cap, “drink up, baby.”
Over the next few days, you were out of your mind. If you weren’t passed out or asleep, you were drunk or high at Lewis’ force, shoving edibles down your throat and washing them down with bottles of cheap vodka.
Your throat burned, stung red with pain, and your body was dirty and disgusting. As if the drugs weren’t enough, Lewis was getting off on burning and scarring you, too. Lighters, cigarettes and metal objects were on rotation across your skin.
The worst was the rape, for which you preferred to be unconscious for. At least if you weren’t mentally there, you weren’t being traumatized again.
After the first few times, you knew you would never get a good night of sleep, never have a calm moment, never become intimate without feeling what you felt when William Lewis forced himself inside you, fucking at a brutal pace, spitting and screaming and grunting horrible things as he used and abused your body for his own pleasure.
He came inside of you as much as he physically could, getting off on mocking you for becoming his rape victim and eventually the carrier of his monstrous offspring.
After a few days, he figured SVU would be catching onto him, ever loyal to their own. He couldn’t risk moving you so he cuffed you back to the pipes, kissed your lips and disappeared. William Lewis had his fun with you, but he needed to keep moving if he was to avoid arrest.
You hadn’t been fed the entire time, barely given any water and mostly having had drugs and alcohol forced down your throat. You didn’t hear anything as SVU busted in, Olivia and Sonny leading ahead as they sprinted towards your weak figure.
“(Y/n)? Oh fuck— oh ma’ god—“ Sonny’s voice breaks, looking up at Olivia with tears in his eyes.
Liv pulls out her radio, immediately ordering a bus for an officer down.
“Baby, c’mon, it’s Sonny. ‘M right here—,” he coos, taking off his jacket and laying it over you to give you some privacy. You were fully naked and chained up, blood and burn marks everywhere. It didn’t take a genius to understand what had happened.
“Mmmph—“ you mumble as he unlocks the cuffs with the standard key used by NYPD.
“Ah know ‘ya can hear me, jus’ hold on. We’re gettin’ a bus, okay?” he sniffles, hand on your arm. Sonny wished more than anything that he could take your pain and make it his.
Sonny scrambled to grab a water bottle before Liv stuck her hand out, keeping him back.
“I know you want to help, Carisi, but the inside of their mouth could have DNA evidence,” Liv says with a pinched expression.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill whoeva’ did this,” Sonny growls, looking around as his blood boils. You had only been gone for three days, but it had felt like an eternity. Sonny had never been so afraid in his entire life.
If you ever had any question of what you and Sonny were to each other, it was answered in the days following your attack. Sonny spent a week and a half straight with you in your apartment, doing anything you needed. He bathed you, cooked for you, gave you space if you needed and held you when you woke up shaking or crying from a nightmare.
You returned to work a month later, even though Liv wanted you to take a longer break. She kept a close eye on you, having gone through multiple horrific William Lewis experiences herself, although none included rape itself.
A week into your return, Olivia pulled you into her office and gave you the grim update that there were basically no updates. Very much unlike him, Lewis had disappeared or gone into hiding. And Liv had one request for you: she wanted you to take a pregnancy test.
You laughed, taken aback at the absurd notion. Sure, you hadn’t had your period yet, but it wasn’t uncommon for survivors of extreme trauma. But Liv wanted to be sure, as Lewis’ mission with you was to force you to carry his offspring.
“I-I think the worst part is—“ you gulp, “he was right. I don’t have the balls to get an abortion. I’ve always wanted a baby, and I just— god, Liv, if I’m pregnant by my rapist, I have no idea what I’ll do.”
“And what about you and Carisi?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Me… and Carisi?”
“(Y/n), I’m not blind,” she smiles softly.
“We haven’t— you know, since the assault. I just can’t. But that would be even worse, I mean, I know Sonny would stick around. Both of us together, raising Lewis’ baby? A-and with the threat of him coming back and wanting custody? It’s just too much. I would put that poor baby up for adoption,” you sigh.
“Take the test and we’ll figure things out from there, Detective (y/l/n). I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” Olivia promises.
You both stand up and she gives you a hug, noticing how your body trembles. She had a hunch you’d been like that since the assault, and she couldn’t blame you. She’d be lying if she said Lewis didn’t haunt her dreams sometimes, too.
You took the test in your apartment, alone. Sonny’s shift ended two hours after yours, which gave you enough time to grab some tests from the bodega and take them with your fingers crossed praying to not be pregnant.
You still had flashbacks to those moments, the ugly ones where you were drunk or high and still awake with Lewis on top of you. You saw his repulsive smile every time you closed your eyes, hearing him babble about knocking you up and wrecking your life even more.
Your job was everything to you and you loved helping people, but you had never fully understood how it felt to be a sex crimes victim until it happened to you. Until your power was stripped away, every piece of your humanity torn to shreds. You never knew what it felt to want to burn your body, to destroy the evidence, to put an end to the agony plaguing you day in and day out.
You never wanted to die as much as when you flipped over those tests, seeing the plus signs and knowing you were giving William Lewis exactly what he wanted.
After a few days of moping, Sonny sat you up in bed and reminded you of the small, but still possible, chance that it could be his baby. You hadn’t used a condom with Sonny on the night before your abduction, though you usually did.
“Baby, jus’ get it checked. If it’s ours—“
“And what if it’s not, Sonny? You really want to raise a baby conceived with my rapist?” you cry, burying your head in your hands.
“Wouldn’t want t’give Lewis the satisfaction of lettin’ him raise it himself, doll. ‘N it’s still gonna be ‘ya baby, have ‘ya DNA either way,” Sonny reminds you, stroking your arm softly and gently.
“I-I’ll go in for a fetal DNA test,” you agree, allowing Sonny to call and make an appointment for your next day off.
In those moments between, you lived in a sweet purgatory outside of your body. The only times you felt grounded were when Sonny’s hands were on you, holding you, kissing your forehead, lacing your fingers together.
You couldn’t believe a tiny organism was growing inside of you, relying on you for nutrients and nourishment and love. Something so innocent that might be born from something so awful. You couldn’t even close your eyes when you thought about it, you just saw Lewis’ scarred face and his eerie, victorious smile.
“You’re sure you don’t want me t’come with ‘ya?” Sonny frowns, turning to face you as he buttons up his dress shirt.
“I’ll be okay, I promise,” you say, though you’re not so sure.
“If not, call me or Liv, alright? One of us can come, we don’t want ‘ya t’be alone,” Sonny says, stepping towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder gently.
“I will, Sonny. Don’t worry,” you smile, leaning into his warm embrace.
You were told the results could take up to two weeks to arrive, so you went back home and looked around your apartment. It was a one bedroom, barely big enough for you and a baby. If the baby was Sonny’s, would you move in together? Would you have to switch departments? Would you get engaged?
And if it was Lewis’? You loathed the thought, but it was the more likely possibility. You wish you could give it up for adoption, but the truth was that it would be your baby too. Could you really give your baby away just because it was conceived through rape?
Two weeks later, like clockwork, your phone rang. The caller ID was your doctor’s office, so you glanced at Sonny. He was none the wiser, sitting on the couch and reading through case files.
“H-hello?” you answer, ducking into the bedroom. Your hand shook as you held your cell phone up to your ear.
“Hello, is this (y/n) (y/l/n)?”
“Yes, that’s me,” you say nervously.
“I have the results of your fetal DNA test. The sample from Dominick Carisi Junior is a 99.7 percent paternal match.”
“Wh— a-are you sure?” you whisper. Your shaky hand comes up to your mouth as you blink slowly, hardly believing your ears.
“Yes, with a match that close, it is virtually impossible to have another paternal match,” the voice on the other line explains.
“Okay, thank you. So much. I-I really appreciate it,” you smile.
You exchange pleasantries and hang up, tiptoeing out of your bedroom as you glance at Sonny again. Your last look at him before telling him he would become a father.
“Sonny? I have some really good news.”
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Difference of Opinions (Part 1)
Fandom: Spider-Man, Spider-Verse, Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara, f!Reader Summary: You went against the man you loved and helped Miles escape. Now you must face Miguel's wrath. Word Count: 1821 TW: Angst, Betrayal, Anger, Glitching, Left for Dead, Miguel has a temper Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to get sucked into writing for this movie, but this idea wouldn't stop nagging at my brain so here you go!
Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Series Masterlist
*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*
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As you watched Miles disappear in a flash of the Go Home machine, you couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, you had been afraid that he wasn’t going to make it. That despite everything you, Hobie, and Margo had done to help him, Miguel was going to stop him before he could escape. But he got to go home to try and save his father. He had a chance.
However, the smile slowly faded from your face as Miguel roared and ripped the arm off of the Go Home machine. You had been so focused on getting Miles off of Earth-928 that you hadn’t considered what happened afterwards. This was going to be bad.
The room had filled with other Spider-people who had all been involved in the chase for Miles and they all just stared at Miguel. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Margo’s avatar disappear and you sighed in relief. At least she would escape Miguel’s fury. 
Right now, his focus had turned towards Gwen. As they began yelling back and forth at one another and Miguel dragged her into the Go Home machine, you started to back out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. While part of you wanted to run to Gwen’s aid, she was being sent back to her own universe. It was heartbreaking to watch– especially knowing what was going to happen to her father when she returned –however, she was getting off easy considering her part in getting Miles involved in the Spider-Society in the first place. Things could have been a lot worse for her. As they would probably be for you if you didn’t let Miguel cool down for a while before confronting him.
You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Red webs coiled around your arms and legs pinning them to your body and making you fall to the floor. Before you could try to squirm your way out, Miguel yanked hard and you flew backwards into him. He caught your chin with one large hand, his nails sharpening into claws and digging painfully into your skin as he held you off the ground. 
His red eyes flashed dangerously as he roared in your face, “Did you think I wouldn’t see you trying to slink away? You helped him escape! You! Of the hundreds of us in the Spider-Society, you were the last one I ever imagined turning against me.”
“I haven’t turned against you, Miguel. You know I love you too much to ever do that.” With your face still pinned in his grasp, you tried your best to keep your expression calm and non-confrontational. You knew how he got when he was like this and it was better to not get him even more agitated. However, your voice remained firm and unwavering. “But right now, you’re letting your past cloud your judgment and you’re not thinking clearly. I was just trying to–”
“He’s trying to alter a second canon event! We still haven’t dealt with what he did in Mumbattan and you just let him get away to do it again!” He bared his sharp teeth at you as he growled deep in his throat. In all your years together as friends or as lovers, you had never once feared Miguel would hurt you…. until this moment. All reason seemed to have left him and all you saw when you looked at his face was fury and pain. There was no trace of the man you loved before you.
Trying to keep the quiver out of your voice, you calmly said, “You said it yourself. Miles is an anomaly. He was never supposed to be one of us so who’s to say he has to uphold the canon events? From what I can tell, the Peter Parker of that world already lost his captain before he died. So maybe Miles has a chance none of us ever got. Maybe he doesn’t have to bear this loss like the rest of us. Maybe he can change his fate.”
“‘Maybe! Maybe! Maybe’! You risked the lives of an entire universe on maybe!” Miguel’s grip on your face tightened and you mewled slightly as his claws broke skin. “Whether or not he was supposed to be Spider-Man, he is now. And that means he must follow the canon. If he was different than the rest of us, he wouldn’t have already lost his uncle.”
“Or may– possibly becoming the Prowler is what got that Aaron Davis killed, not because he was Miles’s uncle.” You tried to reach up to stroke Miguel’s cheek, to calm some of his anger, but your hands were still pinned to your side by his webs. “Miguel, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Please, let Miles try. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”
Slowly, Miguel’s fury faded from his face until there was nothing left but pain. Pain that you knew you had caused. He lowered you to the floor and loosened his grip on your face though he didn’t release you. Then, as he stared deeply into your eyes, he spoke in an agonized whisper. “I did trust you. I would have gone to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you. I gave you my heart even after I swore never to open myself up to anyone again but you turned your back on me the first chance you had.”
Tears sprung to your eyes and you squirmed against the webs, desperate to touch him. To hold him and make him feel that your love for him never wavered. “You know that’s not true. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning. I’ve loved you and helped you build this Society so we could uphold the canon across hundreds of universes. But I just… I just couldn’t stand by this time and not at least give Miles a chance to try and save someone he loves. I’m sorry.”
For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”
His claws slashed through his webbing, freeing your limbs. But before you could move, Miguel grabbed your arm, ripped your portal watch from your wrist, and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. Still holding your arm, he tossed you across the room. You crashed into the floor and slid another dozen feet or so on your side. And just as you slowed to a stop, you glitched as this unfamiliar universe attacked your cells. 
You felt like your body was simultaneously being compressed and stretched in a hundred directions at once. When the glitch ended, you let out a small whimper but the sound didn’t cull Miguel’s rage any. Even as you lay in a heap on the ground, he tossed a disk in your direction and suddenly a red transparent field surrounded you. 
Unable to believe he was really doing this to you, you called out to him but he ignored your plea. Instead, he turned his back on you and growled, “Jess, Ben, come with me. And somebody catch Spot.”
Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”
“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”
Ben fell in behind him, but Jess hesitated, her hand reaching out towards you. But you shook your head. Miguel had judged you and once that happened, no one could change his mind. Jess had too much to lose by trying to help you and despite hating to see her leaving to track Miles down, you knew she was just as trapped now as you were. So, reluctantly, she turned and followed Miguel and Ben into the portal.
Now alone, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You didn’t regret helping Miles, but you never imagined this would be the consequence. Miguel had a right to feel betrayed yet the fact he would go this far– that he was alright with you slowly glitching out of existence – broke your heart. Miguel had never been a saint but you never imagined he could do this. Not to you. How could his love sour so quickly that he was willing to let you die rather than try to understand why you did what you did? 
No. I won’t accept that.
Miguel was just not thinking clearly after everything that had happened today. Deep down, he still loved you. He had to. Just as you still loved him despite him leaving you to die in this cage. If you could only show him that you were right and Miles was different, then maybe Miguel could forgive you for going against him. And maybe there was still hope for the two of you. Or maybe he would still want you dead. 
Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.
However, there was just something about this situation that made you believe in those maybes. For years you had protected the multiverse by Miguel’s side and you had never questioned his decisions or a canon event. But something in your gut– in your spider-sense –was telling you this time was different. That Miles really could break from the canon without the same consequences as the others. But you would never know unless you found a way out of this cage!
Suddenly, you remembered how Miles managed to escape the same sort of prison an hour before. You might not have his Venom Blast powers but maybe Miguel presented you with your own way to escape. Spreading your arms and legs out as far as you could, you pressed yourself against the force field so you covered as much area as you possibly could. Then you waited.
About four minutes later, it happened. You glitched again but this time, you were ready for it. Using all the strength you could muster, you fought against the glitch and kept yourself pressed against the field. As your body began to flicker and change, so did the force field. When things finally corrected themselves and you were left moaning on the floor, you opened your eyes to see what was once your cage had been transformed into a pile of random junk from across the multiverse.  
Giving it a slight push, the pile collapsed and you walked out of the remains of your prison. You were free. Now, you just had to find a way off of Earth-928 and back into the multiverse to find Miles before Miguel did. And you thought you had an idea about where to start….
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Thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and/or rebloging! I am planning a prequel to this fic showing how Miguel and Reader met and I may also do a sequel fic to this one. If you are interested, please let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Thanks!
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rallamajoop · 10 months ago
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Resident Evil 7 and Mia's secrets
(Oh, did you think I was done talking about Mia? Not even close! >D)
Coming into this fandom late, I was surprised that popular fanon has it that Mia never does come clean to Ethan, post-RE7. Sure, RE8 depends on Mia not having told Ethan he died in Dulvey, but that has nothing to do with her own past with the Connections (and far more to do with Ethan's own denial, but that's a whole other thing).
Myself, I’d taken it as given that the scene where Ethan learns the truth must have just happened off-screen. Because, disappointing as that omission is, the whole damn game is leading up to it.
And having replayed RE7 lately, I realised there'd be no better way to explain my take than to catalog every time the game spells out to us that Ethan knows Mia’s keeping secrets and wants answers, and that Mia herself wants to come clean.
Heck, it’s just about the very first thing we learn about them.
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“Ethan... You were right. I did lie to you. I shouldn’t have, but…”
Ethan's not actually stupid, and Mia's secrecy has obviously strained their marriage for some time. And as soon as Ethan finds her, he’s asking questions.
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Here, he’s mostly asking who did this to you; it's way too early for real answers. But then Eveline takes control, shit goes down, and next we see her, it’s in her recorded message from the “Mia” video tape.
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“There’s so much you need to know.”
When Ethan finds Mia again under the old house, he’s angry and has every right to be, and he doesn’t pull any punches.
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“I always wanted to tell you…”
But Mia’s memory’s still a mess, and Lucas interrupts. Ethan’s next chance to ask questions comes in the boat, and he wastes no time.
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“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”
Mia’s a little more defensive here, but she’s not lying about the holes in her memory. The game’s gearing up for the big reveal anyway, and the writers aren’t about to let her spoil it early.
If you choose Zoe instead of Mia, Ethan spends the boat ride asking all the same questions, only louder.
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“I knew Mia was hiding something.”
But in the end, what do we get?
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Whoever you choose, Ethan only gets a few brief moments with Mia after she frees him from Eveline’s mould, and no explanations are offered. But if you do pick Mia, then we end with Ethan flying away with her in the helicopter, saying only, “Mia's back and she wants to start over,” and I’m left going, wait, what? Haven’t we skipped something here?
In defence of the fanon consensus that Ethan never finds out the truth, that does seem to be the ‘canonical’ intent ‒ at least inasmuch as there's this one throwaway bit about Mia not wanting Ethan to know buried in a bonus text file only available with this one overpriced DLC for RE8. That’s it, that’s as much explicit recognition as this thing ever gets, one way or the other. And fucking hell, but that's a let down.
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Even if we assume that Mia’s desire to come clean goes away once her memory comes back, why would Ethan just stop asking? He’s been asking questions the whole damn game – was clearly asking questions long before the game began! Knowing that Eveline was controlling people doesn’t explain what Mia had to do with it all. Now he’s suddenly all, ‘killed the bad guy, saved the girl, everything’s fine’? Was all that ‘a door closed’ bullshit supposed to be him accepting he’d never get answers? Why?
There are workable ways to spin Ethan never finding out. You could suggest he just accepts that Mia’s memory is gone (hell, for all we actually see of the ending, Mia genuinely might have lost her memory again after Eveline sucked her back into the mould). After all the trauma Ethan’s been through, you could also suggest he’s gone directly into denial, refusing to face anything that might threaten his ‘happy ending’ with Mia. You could even suggest that that bit with Eveline saying 'I can make him love you' is her actively wiping Ethan's suspicions away. There's some lovely, subtle horror in any of these possibilities ‒ I would genuinely love to see all of them explored in fic! But none of them actually come through in the ending we get, and that omission is the single biggest issue that makes that conclusion to RE7 unsatisfying to me.
The whole damn game has been building up to the big confrontation where Ethan finds out the truth and (eventually, if not immediately) finds a way to forgive Mia, so we can still have our happy ending. As much OTT hate as Mia gets, the game is consistent in portraying her as someone who is painfully aware of how bad she’s fucked up, regrets it, and is committed to doing everything she can to protect the man she loves from the fallout of her mistakes.
I cannot overstate how willing Mia is to die to save Ethan, from the very moment she realises she's infected. She does die to save him if you choose Zoe over her. It's so much of why I ship them do hard.
But most frustrating of all, denying Mia the chance to come clean denies her any chance to explain herself. How did she get involved with the Connections? Did she know from the outset who she was working for? Did she genuinely buy into the idea they were finding ways to win wars without losing soldiers on battlefield, that the human casualties of all their work was worth it? If not, why did she keep working there? Was she slowly frog-boiled down to the deep end, did they have dirt on her, did she fear they might kill her if she tried to leave? What excuses did she make to herself as the months or years went on?
It's possible Mia’s the kind of hypocrite who doesn’t care about the human casualties of her employer, just as long as she and hers are okay, but nothing we see from her sells me on that interpretation. And even if she ever was, it's even harder to believe she's still that person after all she's been through.
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It aggravates me that the games never gave us answers, not just because I want explanations that cast Mia in a sympathetic light, but because not giving us answers leaves this huge hole in her character. I'd even take explanations that cast her in an unsympathetic light, as long as it all ties together.
It irritates me even more because, even if Capcom wasn’t up for giving Ethan and Mia the big emotional confrontation they deserved, the solution was so simple: let Ethan find Mia’s diary on his way out of the ship. The whole goddamn franchise is filled with diaries and documents where characters lay out their backstories and motivations in ludicrous detail – why does Mia never get one? Just give us a handful of entries dated over the years, laying out her own feelings and anxieties about the job she’s doing. It would’ve been so easy!
It irritates me nearly as much that, even in the few corners of this fandom sympathetic to Mia, no-one seems to be very interested in answering these questions in fic or shared headcanons (and if there are examples out there I don't know about, please do link me to them!) How much did Mia know about what she was getting into when she started working for the Connections? Was it the job she kept telling herself was just until she could find something better, only for that ‘something better’ to never come along? Did she have stains on her record that made it hard to find another job? How much of her lying was a misguided attempt to protect Ethan, and how much was simply about protecting herself? There's so much to explore here!
This is also where I mention that I've already put my money where my mouth on this one, and written up my own take on Mia's backstory, and how Ethan might have found out the truth. You don't have to agree with my version, of course ‒ I mean it when I say I'd love to see other people's ideas too. Heck, I'd even be up for versions where Ethan ultimately can't forgive her, just as long as people come at it from the angle of looking at Mia as a character, not just a one-dimensional-villain.
But of course, I'd still prefer to think about versions where these two do find a way to make it work. It takes a lot to make me ship het this hard, but these two stealth-badasses have pulled it off with style.
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kaontic · 3 months ago
Text
*Long post*
They are recovering from being exposed to a p.o.j.
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Megs. I’m talking about Megs. He’s my second favorite villain of all time rn (tied with Star actually), but he is the ultimate p.o.j (piece of junk).
In fact, this issue, def makes me want to change my pfp, use the Transfixatron on Megs in his gun mode, and bury his aft in the more than 200ft deep mine shaft at the bottom of this crater fr.
Obviously it’s not deep enough but still.
Or you know what scratch that—because I would just be vandalizing a cool site, wouldn’t I? With JUNK!
*Looks down*
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Yeah. I said it. Why are you even here rn—? Do you want me to discuss the time you were responsible for Brawl m[REDACTED]ing a puppy?
Thundercracker: What?
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DO YOU?!
Idc if he “just” wanted to capture the dog. He “just” wanted to capture the dog to make dog soldiers.
Not even Joker would do that.
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And in this continuity and this issue, we find out that he has no problem with and is EAGER to recruit youngling soldiers.
Or in other words, Cybertronians who have not fully developed their brain chips yet who are thus easier to manipulate.
(God this is gonna be a long post—)
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Optimus, Grimlock, any Autobot—you better have tried to talk/keep Bee out of fighting like you did with Carly. Or at least, be real with him and have the “Prime told me there’d be days like this!” conversation.
Cliff and Arcee too despite us knowing damn well that they will fight no matter what.
Because, after all, at least in the US, you can join the military at 18 (or 17 with parental consent). Furthermore, it’s a sad fact of life, but many underage people fight in conflicts all over. It happens and is happening and I’m glad this has finally been (at least as far as I’ve seen and remember) explicitly acknowledged in a franchise about war.
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I’m gonna try to be more organized about this but here are more things to note:
. We don’t know any Cybertronians’ official age. That’s never been a thing, because you’d have to calculate, and Hasbro ain’t doin’ that math.
. That being stated tho, based on the dialogue, Star/Ulchtar in this flashback could be anywhere from 14-19 years old in human years.
. It seems like he has some part-time job. Mood.
. This is the first time in canon I’ve seen a youngling Starscream join the Decepticons. In G1, he was an adult (former full-time scientist right?). In the WFC games, an adult. In TF One, an adult (and even older than Megs? I mean Steve Buscemi’s voice does not age fr so—).
. Kup looks significantly younger here than he does in Issue #7. That is Kup up there, right? Like middle-aged I guess? ⬆️
(Oh man…how is Hot Rod going to react…RIP)
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. Um…that information from Issue #1.
Ok ok ok—I really need to focus here—
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. When Genvo gets blasted, he falls forward into Ulchtar’s arms. I’m no physicist, but this means he must have been shot from the back, right?
. Optimus to me seems to appear from behind Ulchtar (in the other direction).
. Optimus presumably does not hurt Ulchtar (or even notice him?), which makes sense (if he saw Ulchtar). He’s unarmed.
. Optimus doesn’t have the same gun he did in Issue #1 here, and he has no gun at all in the Energon Universe Special sh*t how am I supposed to compare—
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Holy scrap I scare myself. O_O
. Megs’ fusion cannon cools fast.
. Megs knows that Ulchtar has brothers (“brothers” can also refer to comrades. As in “brothers-in-arms”).
. To Genvo, it’s not a matter of “if” Jetfire and Ulchtar join. It’s “when”. He knew more than he was able to let on too.
. Megs was able to answer Ulchtar’s question…despite him asking it in a low voice to himself? And from farther away? What?
. Megs, why the hell were you smiling when you made that claim in the EUS? That was my first 🚩, I just forgot to mention it before. Don’t you care about Cybertron? What is your deal? How old are you? HOW OLD IS OPTIMUS? HOW OLD IS JETFIRE NOW??????? THEY DIDN’T AGE THE SAME DUE TO THE CRASH—Oh wait right Void Rivals.
. Like no wonder Skybound Star acts so immature and violent, and maybe even resentful of Jetfire leaving him (which explains his hostility that caught Jetfire off guard).
In G1 he acts bratty, but he’s always been portrayed as an adult, so I didn’t expect this I just thought—FRAG— 😭
. I think we can all agree here that this is still not an excuse to lash out at the innocent, so Carly still deserves to get justice/his aft (idk [insert theme about revenge here]). But also Megs. Frag Megs, like honestly (I didn’t even like TF One Megs by the end). 😒
. And this is exactly how I imagine Megs recruiting his victims followers, especially when he’s interested in particular ones (it freaking happens in my AU but anyway— 😀).
Step 1: Show up at the right moment, when they are at their lowest. Act nice, very nice, and make yourself look less intimidating, by changing into something that’s not only small, but also capable of protection. Hence, a gun (gun-tank hybrid whatever—maybe he’s a triple changer like my AU).
It’s his way of communicating that he trusts you/sees your potential, and that you better could trust him because he will protect you, and guide you, and care for you, etc.— He’s totally not luring you into a false sense of security so he could use you. 🙂🫠
Step 2: Use information you know (to get even more personal) and high emotions to your advantage.
Step 3: ?????????????
Step 4: Profit until you get what’s coming to you.
Dammit why is he so magnetic? Forget the fusion cannon, that’s the scariest thing about him people!
My overall theory:
Genvo tragically said too much. Maybe he was trying to impress and gain Megs’ favor (somebody who he already looks up to), so he mentioned their (or just Ulchtar’s) clan (part of the Cybertronian defense force? Oh boy).
They’re numerous, fliers, and most valuably of all, some are outliers (have powers). Skywarp’s teleportation. The Rainmakers’ acid. Sunstorm’s radiation. Oh, how destructive that would be in a fight…
So, he put a tracker/recorder on Genvo (with or without his knowledge), wanting to find out what the clan’s deal was. Or maybe he or Soundwave just straight up stalked them via their alt modes, I wouldn’t be surprised. Are they interested in a side? Apparently not, and for Megs that’s a problem. Let’s make them interested.
Akin to the Aligned novels, he blows their territory up, intending to blame it on the Autobots. Genvo, perhaps aware of Megs’ plan/true intentions, is merely one loose end to tie.
In the end, Genvo wasn’t special or that useful, but he made for good fridge stuffing.
Idk how Omega Supreme factors into this. Maybe Optimus did blast Genvo. Nevertheless, Megs once again proves that he is the biggest selfish douchebag who cares more about himself than Cybertron’s future (unless proven otherwise?).
And I hope Carly wins/finds happiness along with Spike. Peace out. ✌️
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gojo-mochi · 1 year ago
Note
Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine
Pls and ty:)
Have a great day<3
Prompt: Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine.
A/N: First time at angst! WOOO (ง ื▿ ื)ว I kinda went overboard with this one…. So it took kinda long aha, Hope you enjoy tho anon if you’re still here!
Content Warning: Fem!reader, Angst, Mild blood, Reader is a new marine fresh out of training, Reader is all slightly different in each head canon since each person’s dream girl wouldn’t be the same, hurt/ no comfort.
Not Proofread
Word Count: 5.4K
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Luffy:
First Meeting:
You were on your first job, patrolling around the island to catch any criminals or report any bad deeds. With rifle clutched in hand, you practiced your stomping routine all-thru out the day, eyes darting around to scan the whole area. That was when you came across a boy? Or a young man  now that you glance over his ahem nice build, passed out in a alleyway. You immediately rush over to him, kneeling down and lifting up his head and checking for any obvious wounds or blood.
“Foo-food….so hungry..”
You heard him faintly groan out, followed by a loud stomach rumble. ‘Poor thing must not had eaten in a while..’ You pondered looking at his thin frame. You gently rest his head on your lap while you pull out your lunch bag. As soon as the stranger heard the sound of your bento opening, his eyes shot open, drooling pooling out of his mouth. You stifled a giggle at the sight, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up one of the fried chicken you made for lunch. Offering it to the strange man, his lips seem to ‘stretch’ out and enveloped the whole chicken piece in a flash.
“Mm... yummy!”
You didn’t think more on that strange moment when the man urgently asked for more by making grabby hands motion and pouting out his lips. You couldn’t back your giggles at this point, once again picking up your chopsticks to hand feed this man. Soon, your whole lunch box was emptied and the man leans up, carefully positioning his straw-hat on top of his head. ‘That looked oddly familiar to me but why..’ Your thoughts get broken though as the strange man loudly smacks his lips together and turns to give you a thumbs up with a wide smile. “The meal tasted amazing! Almost as good as Sanji’s cooking!”
You blush a bit at his compliments, you always cooked for yourself so hearing someone saying that they enjoyed you’re cooking was new… and pleasant. “Ah! I forget to introduce myself.” You got up and dust off your pants, it was a new Marine Uniform they were testing out so you hate to get it dirty so quickly. “My name is y/n, may I asked for yours?” You reach out our hand in your introduction and the man’s hands quickly came to hold them.
‘Warm…’ You thought silently.
“Luffy!” He shakes your hand up and down rapidly, “You’re really pretty and nice by the way! You should come meet my crew! I’ll have Sanji cook something as a Thank You for giving me your lunch!” He spoke out in quick succession, not giving you time to respond back. Though you can feel your face heating up at hearing him call you ‘pretty’. “Oh right! I was supposed to meet up with my crew somewhere! I need to run now but see me later, yeah?!” You could only stare at his back as he starts to rush off somewhere.
Luffy’s POV
‘That food was so yummy! And the lady was so nice and pretty and wow!’ Luffy’s thoughts usually went a mile a min, especially now expect it was all about you. He couldn’t wait to tell his Nakamas about what happened today. He thought about how soft your lap was to rest on, how he enjoyed every single bite of food you gave him, how even more delicious the food was when it was coming from your hands. He had a skip in his steps as he ran around the island looking for any signs of his crew, ‘I hope y/n likes Sanji’s cooking! Maybe so much that she’ll even join us!’
A/N: Luffy not the type to fall in love in first sight, so idk how to exactly write out him meeting his dream girl other than this  。・゚・(ノД`)ヽ
Second Meeting:
You were alerted by your Commander about a group of pirates causing havoc near the docks. You dash to the dock ready to deal damage to these Pirates. ‘How dare they! Terrorizing a small island like this one!’ You thought angrily as you get closer to your destination. You soon come across a giant blue haired robot person? And a green haired man wielding three swords. Your allies were being slashed down right in front of you. You brought out your rifle and took aim at the pirates ready to fire at a moment notice.
When you noticed a certain straw hat jumping over everyone. Your heart was thumping, blood rushing to your head as you screamed out; “Luffy!?”
Luffy turned to look at you in midair and grinned wide, stretching his arms impossibly long to where you were. He crash land in front of you with a loud ‘thud’. “Y/N! You made it!” He yelled near your ears excitedly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You get shoved him off and point your rifle at him with shaking hands. He gives you a sad puppy eyed look. “What’s wrong?” He tilts his head in a way that almost makes you stumble in your step. But you hold fast; “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is that you are damn Pirate!”
You raise up your rifle again in fury. Did he not know that you were a Marine this whole time? …No, he must had known and pretended to be sick so you lowered your guard down or something, after all, all pirates are the same. You blink away the tears in your eyes, the expression on Luffy’s face almost tricked you into believing that he was clueless in all of this. “Surrender now! Or else I will use this!”
You get slammed by a reindeer or some sort of reindeer liked monster. Your back hits the ground with a hard “Oof.” Escaping your lips, through bleary eyes you can barely see Luffy reaching out for you before he was pulled away by that swordman. Another Marine goes to help you back up, you wince at seeing how your forearms were all scratched and bleeding now. With only rage fueling your voice you scream as the Pirate’s ship was getting ready to sail away. “This isn’t over Luffy! You’re dead to me!”
Luffy’s POV
The Sunny was sailing away and everyone on the ship was safe and accounted for. They made off with bags of food as well. Sanji even said he was making a feast tonight. So why did Luffy feel so sad… He only known for a couple of mins but those memories kept replaying in his head. Your warmth and your kindness, it was replaced with the vision of you screaming out and on the ground bruised.
His crewmates were quick to noticed Luffy’s new attitude, him slumped over on the railing just looking at the island as it fades out of view. When anyone came up to ask, Luffy didn’t give them a answer on why he was feeling this way, he just was. He hoped that the next time you guys end up meeting that it would turn out better but the bitter feeling in the back of his mind told him that you wanted him dead. Why did you have to turn out to be a Marine… he then wondered if he could change your mind and turn you into a pirate instead.
With that new plan in mind, he cheered up a bit and went to bother Sanji about when dinner was ready. He kept rubbing at his chest the whole day though, trying to suppress the ache he felt inside.
Zoro:
First Meeting:
You were cursing your way into shelter as the rain poured down on you. Keeping your sword close to your body as you huddled underneath a tree. ‘Damn it, of course it would rain as soon as I finished with my sword training for the day.’ You cursed silently, wringing out the sleeves on your robe. You always switch out of your usual Marine’s uniform when training but now you’re began to regret that choice. The Marine’s uniform were waterproof to a degree, given how much of your work was out on the sea.
You huff out, rolling your eyes to the dark overcast, flipping it off like it would make any sort of difference. You heard a snort coming off from the left. You jump up a bit in shock, glad that you’re commander wasn’t here to see you be so careless enough not to notice another presence near you. You glare at the new person, not out of any hatred, just annoyance. Why were you even annoyed at this person? You don’t really have an answer for that…
You take a good look at the stranger, he have oddly colored green hair, a scar over his eye, and three swords hung by the side of his hip. He sends over a small smirk when he catches you staring for too long at his open chest. “A picture would last longer, you know?” He taunted with a slight tilt of his head. You feel a fierce blush coming up and you tore your eyes away from watching the rain droplets go down on his admittedly nice abs. You faked a cough and straighten your shoulders out.
“I was just making sure you weren’t a threat or anything like that.” You grunted out. You blush even more when the stranger gave you a toothy smirk in response as he hums. The hums almost came out as growl from how deep it sounded. “So, do you still think I am threat then little missy?” His grey eyes now scanning over your body. Your hands itches towards your sword but you stop yourself.
“I’m Y/N, and I’m…” You took a small pause, “I’m sigh sorry about before, thinking you were a threat and all that.” You did feel bad for glaring at him for no reason, after all he didn’t do anything to deserve it. The man shifted his position, letting his robe fall open, exposing even more of his tanned skin and scarred muscles. “Tis’ fine, it’s not like I blame you for staring.” Oh, alright, now you don’t feel bad for glaring at him.
“I was-wasn’t staring!” You quickly snapped back, which cause the still unnamed man to barked out a laugh. You start to grind your teeth, ‘Fuck him and his stupid attractive laugh too.’ You thought as you turn to find shelter elsewhere. You felt a tug as the man grabbed on to your wrist and pulled you back.
“Hey! Wait! I uh fuck.” He lets you go. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you alright. So don’t leave ok?” His voice sounded a bit softer than before. When you turned around, you catch sight of a small blush painting over his face. It made your heart skip a beat. You shuffles back to your spot, next to the man, letting your shoulder bump against his tall frame. “I didn’t know that you wanted me back that badly.” You jested, feeling off the warm feeling crawling up.
You heard another snort come off the man, and then the warmth of his broad hand coming to ruffle your hair. He didn’t say anything in return though, just letting the pitter patter of the raindrops wash over you two. It took a while and some brushing of hands and fake coughing for one of you to speak up again. “So.. what type of sword style do you use?” The man grunted and looked over to the sword by your hip. You drummed your fingers on the hilt of your blade nervously at his intense gaze.
“I came from a place called Mount Hua, and I was taught the Plum Blossom sword technique there.” You tilt your head back to glance as his expression. Most people would scoff when they see a woman with a sword so you wonder how he’s reacting. It catches you by surprise to see him so intrigued by your words. “Could you show me once this damn rain goes away?”
He sounded serious about it, not like all the others who taunted or mocked your style. ‘Plum Blossom style? Heh! Sounds girly enough for a woman to use! What does it do? Make everything pretty? Bahahah!’ Your thoughts race to all the things people said to you before. You faked another cough and tried to secretly wipe away your tears that were threatening to fall. You just settled for a nod, looking away, hoping that the man doesn’t see your tears. You hear some shifting beside you and the hand returns upon your head.
His callous fingers gently sunk into your hair, scraping against your scalp tenderly, it almost makes your purr from the sensation. He stayed silent, just letting his hand convey all his feelings. The rain soon ended after this moment, you didn’t know if you wanted to be happy or cry that it was over. You step out from under the shelter and give a head nod to the man. You wondered what a good time to ask for his name, it feels awkward to ask after so long.
The man gave a nod back and began to follow you as you walk to a good place to show off your sword technique. You suck in a shaky breath, readying your sword stance. Closing your eyes and steadying your mind, your body goes thru the motions you repeated so many times before. Right foot first, swing your sword out into an arc, twist your body and follow that arc, another step into a whole dance. Move your body like the swaying petals that descend down from Mount Hua.
Since your eyes were closed the whole time, you didn’t get to see the awestruck expression the man wore on his face the entire time. Mouth slightly agape and his one eye never leaving your form as you make the plum blossoms  bloom around you with each swing. It was breath-taking and utterly ethereal, the man thought to himself. His own hand itching to try and copy your sword style. He wanted desperately to see more of this technique and more of you if he was being honest.
Once you were done, the plum blossom softly fall down around you, it made you look heavenly. You tried to not let out a wheeze, controlling your breaths unless your heartrate fully calmed down. Your turns toward the man as he was walking to you, mouth open to say something but cut off by the ringing of your transponder snail. Pere Pere Pere…. Click. You take out the snail from your pocket, it’s eyes opens as your commander’s shouts out. “Y/N! Where are you!? We have a code red down at the docks! Hurry over now!” You stammered out an yes while shooting the stranger a apologetic look. You quickly took foot to the docks, your duties outweigh everything else.
Zoro’s POV
His hand reached out before his mind could react but you were already gone. ‘Shit..’ Zoro looked back to the plum blossoms scattered on the ground. Picking one up between his fingers, rolling it around he sighs. Hand going to rest on his sword hilt he wonders if he could make flowers bloom like you could. His mind flashed back to your sorrowful expression when he asked you to show off your technique. You must had a hard time in the past, his fist balled up in fury at the thought of someone… anyone making you cry like that. He shook his heads as these kind of thoughts filled his head, it was unusual for him to feel such strong emotions and for someone he barely knows as well. He rolls his shoulders and tries not to delve deeper into these new emotions, wondering where the hell his crew was. (A/N: Zoro was supposed to meet his crew an hour ago but he got lost ofc ヽ(~_~()
Second Meeting:
Clang! Your sword comes down and clashed against the large blue metal arm of the cyborg. “Woah there lady! Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this, yeah?” You stepped back when arms sprout from the ground trying to grab your ankles. “We can talk about this once you all are all in handcuffs!” You ready to swing again but you stumble in you step when you caught sight of a familiar green head of hair. A fellow officer catches you before you fully fall flat on your face. “Get it together L/N!” You nod at your fellow officer.
Fighting down the urge to puke when the green haired stranger goes to join the Pirate Crew’s side. Your lips pressed together when you see him take out his swords against the marines. Your body tense and you made your way to the man. Swish! Clang!Zoro’s eye widen when you clashed swords. “Y/N? Wh-what? Why the hell are you here?!” Veins forming on his forearms as he tried to push back against your attack. “I should be asking you that! If I had known that you were a damn pirate I would never had-!” Your breath falters as your eyes start to well up with tears. Zoro let out a hiss when you managed to nick his arm a bit.
You could feel that he was holding back, not putting his full strength into his attacks. You growled out, “Stop doing that! Are you going easy on me just became I’m a girl?!” You swung down again with a heavy arc. Zoro jumped back shock and then anger paints over his face. “I wouldn’t hold back just cause of that! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” He snarled out, accidently putting some of his haki into his next swing, the force pushed you all the way across the battlefield. Your Commander caught you before you fell into the ocean.
Your head was dizzy and your ears was ringing, you felt your Commander’s hands on your back and neck as he props you up a bit. His visage was hazy and you could slightly hear the words, “Y/N?! Ar- -ou wi—me!? Y/N!!” The last thing you saw was Zoro in the distance, jumping up on the Pirate’s ship and leaving. You soon pass out in your Commander’s arms afterwards.
Zoro’s POV
He was getting patched up in Chopper’s office, heart still thumping from the visage of you all bloodied on the ground. From his own attack as well. He hiss out when Chopper applied the medical salve on a  particularly grisly wound. “Sorry Zoro! Are you alright?” Chopper fretted over him, going to check over every inch of his body again. Zoro only grunted a “Is ok.” In return and stood up. He waves off Chopper’s worries and ignores the stinging stares on his back from the rest of his crewmates once he walked out on deck.
He goes up to the Crow’s Nest, pretending the paining in his arms weren’t there. He looks at all his gym equipment and slumps his shoulders, opting to just lay on the ground. ‘A nap sounds fine I guess…’
His hand goes inside his robe to pull out a single plum blossom petal, he rolls between his fingers, admiring the soft shades of colors. His mind goes back to you, your cute expression when he teased you, your form when dancing, and you.. dead on the ground because of him. He shuts his eyes and holds the petal close to his chest and goes to sleep. Wondering if things went differently, where you would be now…
Sanji:
First Meeting:
You pulled the short stick and got tasked with the duty of groceries shopping for the rest of your team this week. You squint at the long list your Commander gave you. “Apples, Bread (Make sure to get Rye NOT WHEAT), Meat, (Beef, Pork, Lamb if you find it), Bruss-oof.” You hit the back of a tall blonde stranger, stumbling backwards you shut your eyes preparing for the crash landing. Only to find yourself in the arms of the same stranger you bumped into. “Woah there! Are you alright ma chérié?” A smooth voice asked. You open you eyes to find the face of the stranger, a handsome man with a curly brow.
With his arms wrapped securely around your waist he brings you back up to your feet. You stuttered out an apology and bowed to your savior. He chuckles and bowed back with a more flawless posture. “No need to thank me, I will always help a beautiful lady in need.” He then put his hand out in asking for yours. You blush at the compliment and bashfully gave him your hand, he then proceeded to plant a soft kiss on the back of your hand which cause you to blush even further.
“May I ask why you were in such a big rush, my dear?”
“O-oh! I was getting groceries and I was looking at my list and not paying any attention, which I am so sorry for again!” As you explained your reasoning you went to show the list that held all the items you needed to buy. Expect it wasn’t in your hands anymore or your pockets for that matter. You pat around your whole body looking for that very long and important list. Finding nothing in the end, yours hand start to clench as your breathing became more unstable. “Shit, Shit, SHIT! This can not be happening to me right!” Your whole body at this point starts to shake, when you feel warm hands on your shoulders and a calming voice guiding you down.
“Hey there, look at me alright, and breath with me. You need to breath, miss…. That’s it… slow and steady… good job.”
Your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to the voice. Shoulders still slightly shaking as you feel the same warm hands as before pat your head and began to wipes away tears you didn’t know was falling. You start hiccupping as the man pulls you into his arms, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. Once you calmed down enough to speak, you look at up the man, still being held in his arms.
“Th-thank you for this… I’m sorry for—”
He stops you before you could finish your apology. “Don’t feel like you need to apologize my dear, it’s a man’s duty to always help dries a lady’s tears as well.” His head still petting your hair so sweetly it makes your heart squeeze a bit. Still he was a stranger no matter how handsome he is, so you reluctantly push away from his firm chest and try not to think too much about the look on his face as you did. “It just that I lost the list of all the things I need to get for my group and I’m not sure what to do now…”
The man hummed for a bit, closing his eyes before he said. “Why don’t I help you out with your shopping? Not to brag but I am quite the talented chef so this would be a easy task for me to do.” He grinned down at you. You start to refuse stating that you didn’t want to bother him but he had already grabbed your hand into his and was pulling you towards the marketplace. “Just tell me about who we’re buying for and let me take care of it, ok sweetheart?” Your heart skips so many beats hearing him call you sweetheart, just so casually like it was something that was normal between you two.
You brush aside the nickname and your beating heart to explain some of your teammates tastes and dislike. The more you talk the more comfortable you got, telling him about how each of your teammates have something they actively hate and will not even touch a dish if it has that certain ingredient in it. Throwing your arms in the air as you told the story of how two of them got into a fight over who ate the last of the mangos. He chuckles at the story or at how you were acting, you weren’t so sure but you were enjoying the time spent with him.
He easily explained what was best to get, how to pick the best fruit, cut of meat, and fresh fish, he also showed you how to haggle for the best prices as well. You giggled when he went back and forth with the old fishermen, his hand still held on tightly to yours the whole time. You felt a small squeeze every time the fishermen retorted back saying the price was firm. In the end he did get a couple of free fishes with his order. He was swinging his hand that held yours as he happily carried the numerous amount of bags all in his other arm.
You wanted to share some of the load but he was adamant about carrying it all for you but he denied every moment you asked. His hand was oh so warm and caring, when you reached your building you didn’t want to let go. And it seems like he didn’t either, he just silently drops the bags off and hold steady to you hand before letting go. Your fingers slipping past each other slowly until you were freed, free but cold. You just stayed there in the middle of your doorway, you both don’t even know the other’s name but you feel like there was something that was bubbling just below the surface.
However, before anything could happen the both of you heard a huge explosion come from somewhere in the city. The make the ground beneath shake heavily and your ears ring from the aftershock. You look around frantically to see any signs of enemies or anything that could be dangerous while the man did the same while shielding you. You shake off the same feeling in your chest as you went to Transponder Snail to check in with your team. “I have to go check on my friends! Please stay here and stay safe!” The man yells as he starts to run towards the source of the explosion.
You yelled after him but he was already long gone, the Transponder snail still ringing in your hand. You bite you lips in worry for your teammates and the strange man you gotten close to.
Sanji’s POV:
While he hates to leave a beautiful young lady behind, he can’t help but worry about his friends. So while his legs went on autopilot to his friends his mind wandered back over to the marketplace and to you, how his hand fits so perfectly on your waist, the way your smile seem to set his heart aflame each time you directed at him, it was a different sort of feeling from what he usually get when seeing a pretty lady. It both terrified and excited him at the same time, he thought of what he could do when he needed to leave the island later. Would you accept a vivre card from him a stranger, was that too much? Maybe just giving you his number would be fine… or maybe you could join the crew as his assistant? He need to convince Luffy first but also you but his mind couldn’t help but think of all the scenario of you and him together.
He finally reached source of the smoke and found his friends being attacked by a group of marines. He hurries in to help fight them off.
Second Meeting:
The Transponder snail opened up it eyes and you heard your teammate shout out your name. You responded back right away, asking how was everyone and where they were. You voice came out in rasps as you didn’t know that you were holding your breath this whole time. You slide down to the floor upon hearing that everyone was safe from the blast. Tears falling from all the stress, but you steadied yourself once your teammate asked if you could come help. You stifled some sniffles and told them that you’ll be there soon.
You got into your uniform and ready your weapon by your side as you head to the meeting area, the source of the explosion. ‘Where that kind stranger went to….I hope he’s ok..’ Thoughts like these race in your mind as you dash across the town. You hear the sound of fighting before you could spot anyone. You get out your weapon and hurry to the battle to find… The same stranger.
Your heart stops in your throat, your mind was spinning, and you could barely hear you’re the fight over you, as you eyes set on the man. He looked good, you hate to admit it, as he was going around kicking your teams’ ass, but dam does he look good doing it. You snapped out of it when you got pulled back by your commander as a strange and buff Raccoon dog(?) was barreling your way. You landed with a oof and grunted out a sorry as your commander went back to help the others.
Your mind was still foggy over why he man was helping the pirates and what that meant for the two of you. The two of you?? You only knew him for what? A couple of hours? Why were you thinking so hard on this, it obvious that he’s a pirate and that he needs to go down, just like every other pirate out there. You keep telling yourself that as you head straight towards him with your weapon pointed. “Halt!”
The man stopped in his tracks as he turns to meet you, his eye goes wide but then he immediately smiles wide. “Ma chérié! You’re here!” He stretch his arms out wide, as if he was waiting for a hug. You almost falter in your step as you felt your cheeks warm up. You pretended it was from anger and not anything else as you take a step back and faced your weapon towards him. “Surrounded now Pirate! I won’t ask twice!”
His arms was still out stretched but the smile on his face fell. It seems like he was struggling to say something but then the same Raccoon dog you saw before was crashing towards you again but you managed to step away just in time. “Get away from Sanji!” ‘Sanji… so that’s his name..’
You land on your feet with a hard thud. Growling as you try to swipe at the large creature, almost landing a hit when Sanji stops you with his leg. “Wait! Please let talks this out, my dear, we could work this out.” You pushed away his leg and yelled back. “Talk what out?! You’re a pirate! We have nothing between us!”. As soon as Sanji’s face fell, you regret what you said, heart twisting in your chest. One of your teammate came to stand beside you and take aim at the two, shooting at them while they ran back to their ship. You curse them out as the ship’s sails unfurled and they began to leave. Trying desperately to stop the tears from falling as your heart reach out to him while your mind was yelling at you.
Sanji’s POV:
He just stayed in the kitchen for most of the week after leaving that island. Distracting himself by preparing new dishes, snacks, drinks, anything that occupy his hands and his mind. Usopp and Nami was worried about him and the food storage but Sanji waved them off. He puffed out another smoke from his nth cigarette. Looking at his hand and trying to remember the warmth he felt when yours was holding it. He sighs, putting out his current cigarette and lighting up another one. As his thoughts pulled him back that marketplace and the sound of your laughter rings in his ears.
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villainbait · 4 months ago
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So I did a short story submission for the Love and Deepspace Misty Invasion contest. I didn't get to spend as much time on it as I wanted (I actually wanted to do a few different ones but life got in the way) so I only had time to quickly clean up Sylus's before the deadline. Please enjoy under the cut. c:
Title: Last Night in Paradise Love Interest/Pairing: Sylus x Main Character Rating: M Word Count: 1k28 Alt Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58443109 Tags: teasing, kissing, implied sexual content, canon sylus behavior, story spoilers, lost oasis spoilers, first person pov
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The hushed sounds of desert trees swaying in the wind permeated the otherwise quiet moment. I sat in the middle of the small rooftop bed that had been generously provided, unable to sleep, gazing across the vast expanse of sand that seemed to stretch on infinitely. Somewhere in that vast desert, supposed gods were laid to rest. My feelings, however, were a restless mess. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about what happened the day before. Sleep tugged at the corners of my mind, but I couldn’t relax when a certain white-haired nuisance was still missing.
Sylus had set off towards the desert and hadn’t come back after that fateful sunset exchange. After how the conversation between the two of us had ended the day before, I didn’t expect him to. Instead, I had spent the day continuing to help the boy like you had been invited to do and making a tenuous friendship with the old lady, interrupted by sunbathing and delicious food.
I didn’t think he would’ve left me here like this with the way things were, or without even saying goodbye. It was difficult to tell whether I was relieved or disappointed about it, but I was leaving tomorrow, so I tried to convince myself it didn’t matter anyway. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Sylus at all when he returned. All traces of his earlier behavior had dissipated, and I watched him approach the bed wearing the mocha colored silk robe I had spied on the wall earlier. I must be exhausted if I was so out of it I didn’t hear him shower or change.
“You’re still awake?” he murmured, sliding behind me before pulling me gently into his lap. What I wanted to say was that I was waiting for him, but instead all that came out was, “It’s too hot. I can’t sleep.”
“Do you need me to tell you a bedtime story again?”
His voice was low and close to my ear. It made me squirm in his lap as I recalled the last time he told me a bedtime story.
“No, I…”
“Or should I lull you to sleep using a different method this time?” he teased, his hand sliding higher under my thin gown.
“Sylus.” His name was a warning on my lips, but I knew I had lost the moment his own touched my throat. He hummed against the sensitive skin, and the heat of the summer oasis only made me burn hotter.
“Why do you look at me like I’m the first water you’ve seen in miles? Am I your oasis?” I blurted out suddenly, and he stopped his attempt to distract me from the summer heat to answer.
“If I said it’s because I want to drink you in until I'm satisfied?” His tone was careful.
“I’d be scared there wouldn’t be anything left of me by the time you were done.” I replied breathlessly. His cool breath against my overheated flesh makes me tremble, or maybe I’m trembling for another reason. I could feel the pounding of my heart against his lips, and the vulnerability of allowing him so close scares me as much as it excites me still. It was hard to focus with him wrapped around me like this, and I never knew if I wanted to pull him closer or shove him away. It always felt like a never-ending tug-of-war between the two of us, and neither one was willing to throw down the rope first.
“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Sylus murmured cryptically in response and propped his chin on my shoulder, his eyes drawn to the cut on my arm.
His fingers ghost over the ugly, angry kiss of a wound on my forearm that I had received from helping the boy earlier today. His expression is unreadable, and I watch as he uses the barest trace of his evol, the red mist swirling uselessly before dissipating. The wound will heal slowly.
I scoffed quietly. “Did you really think that would work?”
Sylus said nothing for a long time, the silence permeated by the rustling of desert trees or the quiet, discordant symphony of insects. Somewhere in the distance, an animal’s cry echoed softly. When I turned my head to look at him, he looked so far away, captured perhaps by the memory of another time. Another place. Another me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt lost in this desert after all.
“Sylus?”
He looked down at the soft call of his name, and his expression was far more tender than I anticipated. It made me want to look away.
“What?” he cajoled, but he pulled me closer. “Are you so eager for my attention that you need to mewl for it?”
“I wasn't!” I puffed my cheeks out, indignant that he would suggest something so ridiculous. I started to pull away, but Sylus captured me fast in his arms. The night was balmy despite the tepid breeze, and I could feel the contact of dewy skin everywhere we connected. His robe had fallen dangerously open, and the sash barely held on.
I wanted to be closer to Sylus and I pressed more of my body against his, but it wasn’t enough.
“If you keep doing that,” he murmured slyly, his tone seductive. Intimate. “I won't be responsible for what happens next.” I tried to hide but Sylus wouldn’t let me, catching my wrist in his hand and using it as a distraction to kiss me. We grappled playfully until I suddenly found myself staring up at him, the stars creating a beautiful backdrop to this moment. I could smell the faint wafting scent of him from the shower and it lingered in the air. I wished I could wrap it around me forever. Sylus made me feel safe and I couldn’t deny I liked the warmth that safety brought.
I knew one day I’d miss it too.
He can see my mood start to shift and tips my chin up with his finger. “Let’s go to bed,” he whispers hotly against my lips and pulls me under the covers.
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floral-and-fine · 4 days ago
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Green and Silver
Prince Nuada Silverlance x fem reader
Fem reader x Adopted siblings Hellboy and Abe
A/n: Sooooo… this has been in my drafts for a little under 2 years 😅 and this week I was determined to just go ahead and finish it. It’s kinda long about 12,800 words and it’s kind of a slow burn. Also I gave the reader plant related powers. Enjoy!
Warnings: lemon and probably a lot of things that don’t go with canon
Summary: The reader is determined to help mediate the conflict between man and magical beings, through her efforts Nuada ends up falling for her.
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Entering your old room, a smile graced your lips as you saw that all your plants were alive and well. Someone must have been caring for them in your absence, you thought as you stepped over the healthy vines and roots that had spread over the tile floors. At first you assumed it had been Abe, but seeing how overgrown some of the plants had become, it seemed more likely that Red had been the one watering them.
You worried your lip wondering if maybe he didn’t hate you after all?
Things have always been rocky between the two of you. Constantly butting heads since you were children, always seemingly on opposing sides on certain topics, fighting for father’s attention.
You had always suspected that there was a little jealousy as well. Unlike Red, you could blend in with everyone else, you weren’t forbidden from leaving the compound, or forced to live a life in hiding.
It all came to a boiling point when you made the decision to leave. He wouldn’t look at you when you said goodbye. When he had found out the night before while you were packing up what you could, he was furious and both of you said a lot of things in anger. You immediately regretted it right after.
You left fearing that Red would never speak to you again, but your abilities were better suited out there, not on missions hunting down paranormal enemies.
You wanted to help, really help. You wanted to bring forests back to life and assist in places that had been ravaged by wildfires and deforestation. Staying here felt like you were doing more harm than good.
To make matters worse, shortly after your departure, Liz admitted herself into the hospital and then father died. When you returned to mourn his death with your family, Red tore into you. He blamed you for all of it, claiming if you had been around none of it would have happened.
You hadn’t been back since then.
Looking around your room, you couldn’t help but notice how homesick you had become. So much of your life was spent in this compound. You never intended to be gone for so long.
Your room was designed similar to a greenhouse with a glass ceiling to let in plenty of sunlight. Various sized pots filled with plants and vibrant flower beds lined the walls. Right in the center of the room was a hammock where you used to take midday naps. Your old record player was still sitting on your desk collecting dust along with all your books and art supplies.
Your father had made sure that you, Abe, and Red had some space to yourselves that suited your needs. He always so thoughtful of your individual needs.
You picked up an old frame, wiping the dust away with your sleeve to reveal the photograph under the glass. Your fingers traced over the familiar faces smiling back at you.
You had truly missed them all.
“So,” a voice suddenly spoke up from the entrance of your room. “You really did come back.”
You spun around to see Red leaning against the door frame. You laid the picture back on your desk. “I saw the news… Hellboy is everywhere right now. Thought maybe I could help.”
You swallowed thickly as the two of you stared at each. God, you didn’t think it would be this weird and tense, but simply being in the same room didn’t feel right. You wished you knew what else to say to fix it, but you got the feeling he didn’t want to talk.
“Well guess that’s it, I just wanted to see it for myself,” he shrugged and turned away, heading back down the hall.
All you could do was watch, wondering if it would ever be like it used to.
“He spoke to me at least,” you sighed, shoulders slumping while you sat on the edge of Abe’s tank with your feet dangling in the water. “I honestly expected worse, another screaming match or something like that.”
Abe’s head bobbed in the water as he swam closer to you and noticed how your frown deepened, “And that makes you… more upset?”
You groaned, throwing your head back, “I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but if he had yelled and maybe even slammed a few doors too, it would’ve felt more normal, more like it used to be.”
Abe chuckled a little, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. The yelling would be far more familiar.”
It was true that you and Red growing up always seemed to be fighting or arguing. It was just the nature of your relationship while Abe and Professor Broom were the mediators. Which was why it was so unnerving to be treated like a stranger, so coldly, by the person you had come to think of as your brother.
“I’m glad Liz is back,” you added. “She’s always been good at keeping him more level headed.”
“Me too,” Abe nodded, carefully climbing out of his tank. “And I’m glad you're back as well.”
“Got somewhere to be?” You asked.
“Director Manning is bringing in someone new,” he explained. “I believe he wanted the entire team to be present for introductions.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You could join us, if you’d like,” Abe offered, putting on his goggles and breathing collar.
“I probably shouldn’t, I’m not officially back,” you sighed, rising to your feet. “Pretty sure the government still wants these types of things confidential.”
You walked with Abe down the stairs, your wet feet leaving behind dark footprints on the red carpet. You smiled at him as he left the room.
Without much else to do, you made yourself comfortable in the library. About an hour or so later, you were curled up in one of the arm chairs invested in a first edition copy of ‘The Time Machine.’
Immediately you perked up when you heard everyone bustling about and on the move.
“What’s going on?” You asked, setting your book aside and standing.
“We’re loading up,” Red stated without his usual enthusiasm. “To go on a goddamn wild goose chase,” he added with a scowl.
You furrowed your brow giving Abe and Liz a confused look.
“We’re going to the east end of the Brooklyn Bridge,” Liz explained while going in for a quick hug. “It’s good to see you,” she added.
You hugged her back. “The Troll Market…?” You questioned, putting it together. “Thought we gave up on that myth.”
You heard Red snort loudly, “Yeah, but this time will be different.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as someone new approached you.
“Ah! You must be Ms. Y/n,” the strange figure said with a thick German accent. He was dressed in a suit that resembled vintage deep sea diving gear. “I am Dr. Kraus,” he introduced himself.
Your eyes widened for a second, realizing that there was no head or face beneath the helmet, just a strange mist. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you,” you half smiled.
“Will you be joining us?” He asked eagerly. “On the mission?”
Your eyes flickered to Red who seemed irritated but not completely against it.
“I suppose I could.”
“Fantastic,” Dr. Kraus clapped his hands. “I look forward to seeing your abilities for myself. I have read extensive dossiers on all of the team, including you,” the doctor explained. “Your powers seem quite… intriguing.”
“Why would you read my file?” You inquired. “No one knew I was coming back, and technically I might be here but I’m not with BPRD anymore.”
“Ah, yes, but you see I’ve heard stories about your missions from a good friend,” he explained. “So I asked for information that pertained to all of you.”
You looked at the doctor uneasy, before following the back of the group as they made their way to the hangar.
Arriving at the destination, agents filed out of vehicles and began prepping the area with practiced efficiency. Liz directed them where to install the cameras while Red and Abe discussed plans with Dr. Kraus. You tried your best to stay out of the way, simply resigning yourself to observe everyone else at work.
“Aren’t you going to go with them?” Liz asked as she grabbed the bird cage that held a little canary.
You shook your head, “I think it’s best if I stayed here. I don’t want to press my luck or step on any toes.”
Liz pursed her lips and nodded, “It’ll get better y’know, Red just needs time.”
“Yeah, I hope you’re right.” As much as you wanted to be part of the action, just like in the good old days, you knew Red already had enough on his plate as he unwillingly adjusted to Dr. Kraus’s lead.
“Help Manning keep an eye on things,” she instructed with a slight eye roll. “I’ll be back shortly.”
You looked back at Director Manning who was still completely astonished that the little old lady was actually a troll.
“What a hideous creature,” he muttered to himself, staring at the monitors. Eventually he peeled his eyes away and turned to look at you, seemingly forgetting what he was going to say as he saw you through the lenses of the Schufftein glasses.
You lifted your brow, “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“You’re… very glowy,” he answered, somewhat entranced.
You chuckled, “Thanks.”
His eyes followed the swirls of green that traveled along your figure like vines.
“Better keep watching the fragglewump,” you suggested with a small smirk.
“Yes, of course, you’re absolutely right,” he said, turning his chair back around.
You, Liz and Manning stayed behind, keeping an eye on surveillance. Over the radio, Red shared how amazing the troll market was. A part of you wished you had gone with them, but it was too late now. Maybe one day you’d be fortunate enough to return and see it for yourself.
With a heavy sigh Liz stood up and left the back of the truck.
“Everything alright?” You asked her, immediately joining her outside.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she muttered, fidgeting with her hair then her jacket.
“Liz,” you said gently, knowing her well enough to see that something was bothering her.
She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath releasing it slowly. “I’m pregnant,” she admitted.
“Oh,” you blinked in surprise. “Oh wow, that’s huge!”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I still can’t believe it myself.”
“Who else knows?”
“Just you and Abe right now,” she answered, kicking some gravel away with her boot. “I can’t seem to find the right time to tell Red.”
The two of you stood side by side watching cars and pedestrians passing just taking in the moment. You couldn’t be happier for Liz and Red. Your small family was getting a little bigger which was also a comforting thought especially after so much loss.
“Ah!” You suddenly shouted, unintentionally scaring Liz in the process as you started jumping beside her. “I’m going to be an aunt!”
She laughed, “Yeah, I guess you will be. I hadn’t really thought about things like that.”
“I’m so excited! We’re all going to love this kid!” You promised.
After making sure she was good, you returned to the truck giving Liz some space, not to mention you knew leaving Manning alone wasn’t the best idea. He wasn’t what anyone would call helpful in an actual crisis.
The BPRD truck rocked and swayed as the ground below started to rumble.
Curious if it was just a tremor, Liz opened the doors to the truck, Director Manning stepped back as you and Liz walked out onto the street to see what was going on.
For a brief second everything stilled, everyone’s eyes searched the surrounding area collectively wondering if it was over. Then suddenly the road abruptly cracked like an egg with large thick vines breaking free.
Automatically you recognized that the creature was plant like, leaves covered its body and its head reminded you of a closed flower bud. For a moment you simply took it in, amazed that such a creature existed.
People began screaming and fleeing from their vehicles as the green monster further sprouted from the ground almost resembling a beanstalk.
You remained entranced as strangers ran past you, until Red retrieved a large gun affectionately nicknamed ‘Big Baby’ from the truck's armory.
“Wait! Please!” You pleaded, placing a hand on Red’s arm. “Let me try to reason with it.”
“Are you out of your mind? Look at that thing!” Director Manning argued from the back of the truck.
You ignored him, instead looking at Hellboy for permission.
“You got 2 minutes, Green,” Red instructed as he continued to load his gun. “After that, I’m going in for the kill.”
You stared up at the massive creature, its tentacle-like limbs thrashing around it. The green glow from its center and head was similar to your own, you wondered if it was like you? Would you be able to control it like other plants even though it was sentient?
It was funny to think that you might have more in common with this forest god than you did with anyone else on the planet.
You shrugged off your sweater, dropping it to the ground. Your eyes began to glow as you slowly approached the creature with your hand outstretched. Swirls of glimmering green light traveled down your arms to your palms.
Its flesh felt smooth, waxy, and cold but there was also a subtle pulse beating beneath your hand. Looking up at what you believed was its face, you met its glowing eyes which were warm and very much alive.
The beast howled, using one of its long tendrils to swat a helicopter away.
“Please stop,” you begged. “I don’t want them to hurt you.”
Another tendril came slamming down too close for comfort, successfully smashing a car flat.
“Listen!” You yelled at it. “They’ll kill you.”
You could sense its rage and its fear as it screeched and wailed, thrashing about. It didn’t recognize this world. Where were the tall trees, the giants, the other gods?
“The world has changed,” you said softly. “I’m sorry, this isn’t your world anymore.”
Its body slumped as it whined at you, head tilting to the side.
“It’ll be alright.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s time for you to rest,” you urged.
The creature’s glowing eyes dimmed as it started to fold in upon itself slowly, almost as if it was falling asleep. It started to shrink back down almost in the same fashion when it sprang from the earth, until finally it was a small seed again,
You crumpled to your knees, your own soft green glow fading as the danger seemed to pass. Examining the still crowded street, you noted the damage it caused, it was severe but it could’ve been much worse. A large breach remained in the ground, the cars that were the closest were crumpled like cans.
You cupped the seed in your palm. It was frightening to think that all you had to do was add some water to grow a huge plant monster from this little bean.
“You didn’t destroy the forest god,” the princess said in complete awe, kneeling beside you.
“I couldn’t let it be killed,” you explained, still admiring the seed. “I’ve never seen anything so terrifying yet so beautiful before.”
“That’s quite accurate,” she smiled. “The gods were the Givers of Life and the Destroyers.”
You looked over your shoulder, all the rest of the team and the other FBI agents were busy dealing with crowd control.
You turned towards Princess Nuala offering her the seed.“Here, you probably know more about it than any of us do,” you said, but in all honesty, you just didn’t want it to end up in Director Manning’s hands or the FBI’s. The BPRD already had enough trophies.
The princess looked at you full of curiosity, carefully accepting it and tucking it away in her dress. “Thank you.”
You stood up and joined the rest of the group.
Dr. Kraus informed you that the casualties were minimal considering all the destruction caused in such a short period of time.
Your eyes met Red’s who gave you a nod of approval before you all departed to return home.
“Hello, my lovelies,” you greeted your plants as you shuffled into your room after a long hot shower. Dressed in a long silk robe, you strolled past all your ferns and flowers, reaching around to turn on the irrigation system near the wall. “There we go,” you hummed as water slowly started to trickle out.
Stretching your arms over your head, you approached your hammock and climbed in, reclining on your back with one of your legs hanging off. Using your foot, you pushed it against the floor, gently rocking yourself.
Laying there, you admired the night sky, watching thin wispy clouds floating across the full moon. Your mind drifted back to the forest god, Nuala had mentioned that it was the last of its kind. You started imagining a world full of magical beings like that, it seemed wondrous. Perhaps you made the right choice coming back. You were happy that you saved it.
You squinted once you realized you were absentmindedly humming along to a Barry Manilow song. Swinging your leg over the edge of the hammock, you sat up. The music seemed to be coming from below.
Your feet softly padded through your room towards the door, wondering who in the world was blaring ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ this late at night.
Focused on the music you allowed it to lead you through the halls. You and Red almost ran into each other, stopping outside the golden doors. You both stared awkwardly at each other.
He had an open can of Tecate in one hand and the rest of the six-pack in the other. He sniffed, eyes darting to the door, “Wanna see what the hell is going on in there?”
You nodded, but as soon as he pushed the large doors open the music changed, going from Barry Manilow to a classical piece.
“Ah,” Abe said, jumping a little, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion. “Hello Red and y/n, you’re both up late.”
“What are you listening to?” Red grumbled.
“Oh, uh, Vivaldi,” Abe answered quickly. “Il cimento dell’armonia.”
You narrowed your eyes and shook your head, “Don’t play dumb. I distinctly recall hearing Manilow just a few seconds ago.”
“Not here, I’m afraid,” Abe said sheepishly.
“Hey,” Red said accusingly, pointing at Abe while stumbling forward. “What’s that?”
“It’s just a remote.”
Red’s eyes moved to Abe’s other hand.
“Oh, this, yes…” Abe mumbled revealing the CD case.
You peeked over Red’s shoulder, reading the title out loud, “Popular Love Songs?”
You and Red had completely different reactions as it dawned on you both.
“You fell for the Princess?” You and him asked at the same time. Red appeared to be in total disbelief while you looked utterly delighted.
Abe sat on the steps in front of the fireplace as he delved into the details of his growing crush. Both you and Red joined him, sitting by his sides.
“You’re in love,” Red announced. “Have a beer.”
Abe tried to politely decline but Red wasn’t having it, practically thrusting the can into Abe’s hand.
Red sighed, freeing another beer from the plastic rings and looked at you, “And well, you’re back, so you get one too.”
You graciously accepted Red’s version of an olive branch, cracking open the can and taking a sip.
“So what track?” he asked, returning to the reason that brought the three of you together tonight.
“Eight,” Abe answered, then explained his love and connection to this particular song. Lifting the remote, he clicked a button and ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ began to play again.
“I wish father were here,” Red confessed, taking another drink of his beer. “He’d know what to tell you… us.”
The sentiment was one you all shared. Each of you were facing new problems, dealing with complicated feelings of loss and love. Professor Broom always looked out for the three of you, offering advice and guiding with a gentle hand.
Abe began to sway with the music, singing along with the lyrics. You weren’t sure if it was the beer or the music, but soon you and Red both joined in belting with him.
You couldn’t quite recall the last time the three of you hung out like this. Red, Blue, and Green back together again, it felt right.
Eventually you parted ways, the boys leaving to get more beer and talk about their girl troubles while you retreated back to your room. Your heart and mind felt lighter now, your relationship with Red seemed to be on the mend, relieving you of a weight that had been crushing your spirit for too long.
“How did they stop it?” Nuada asked as he flipped through another book before tossing it aside. “How were they able to return the forest god to a seed?”
Nuala's eyes briefly darted to the red emergency button on the wall before answering her brother.
“One of them was able to… speak to it.” She wasn’t sure if that’s exactly how it worked, it seemed more as though you had willed it back into its dormant form. It was a curious thing, you like so many of the others she had encountered here were so strange and unique, to be able to have control of such a powerful and ancient being was truly impressive.
Nuada snapped another book shut, “They spoke to it?”
“I’m not sure how else to describe it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly.
“Where is it now?” Nuada pressed.
“I have it.”
“They returned it to you?” He asked skeptically, furrowing his brow.
Nuala nodded, reaching into a pocket of her dress and revealing the green seed. “They trust me,” she responded. “They have been… better than I expected, kind and honest.”
Nuada scoffed, casting aside another book. “Do not do this, it won’t work,” he turned his head away, sneering. “I will never trust their kind or the ones that help them.” He carelessly grabbed another book before dropping it on the floor with the others.
“I’m simply telling you what happened,” she argued. “The one who saved the forest god didn’t want to see it destroyed, she said it was beautiful.”
Nuada paused, fingers resting on the spine of another book, deep down he was glad that the elemental wasn’t killed. It was, unfortunately, the last of its kind, perhaps using it was selfish of him. If they would have killed it instead, its death would have weighed heavily upon him. An entire race would have been completely eradicated and he would’ve been the culprit who ordered the last one to die.
That was the last thing he wanted, there was already so little of his world left to save. When he closed his eyes he could still picture the world as it was, how it should be.
“Perhaps you can give these people a chance,” Nuala reasoned.
“No,” Nuada said sharply. “The Golden Army is the only way.” He had already sacrificed too much to give up now, killed his own father, lost his good friend, Mr. Wink.
Upon hearing the conviction in her brother’s voice, she knew that her words could not sway him without any other options, Nuala quickly pressed the emergency button.
You were laying on your bed, warm and relaxed, your eyelids heavy and your body drained. You hazily dreamt about giant magnificent creatures and exploring the wonders within the troll market. Red had mentioned how incredible it was, how every creature, no matter how strange, walked freely without stares or causing a commotion.
Ever since you were little, you found yourself longing for a place that encapsulated the best of both worlds, a place that balanced the ordinary and the fantastical. It was an intangible dream that slipped through your fingers like dust or smoke.
Suddenly alarms began to blare and red lights above flashed. You sprang up and scrambled out of bed, almost tripping on your silk robe as you ran towards the door.
But you stopped midstep, taking a second to think things through. Swiftly turning back around you opted to use the exit that led straight to the library.
You ran down the narrow spiral staircase, taking two steps at a time, hoping you wouldn’t be too late.
Everything seemed to stop when you stumbled down the steps past Abe’s tank and saw the scene unfold before you, a white haired man with a silver spear was preparing to strike while Red was distracted.
You acted without thinking, grabbing the man from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly as you tried with all your might to hold him back. All you knew was that you had to stop this man from killing your brother.
Your fingers curled over his chest and you planted your feet firmly on the floor, you acted as an anchor using all your weight against him.
Vines sprouted from your hands, they twisted around his arms curling around his fingers right before the spear could plunge into Red’s chest.
Nuada’s eyes went wide, he couldn’t budge. He felt the warmth of your person pressed against him. Looking down at your hands on his chest and waist, his eyes followed the vines. He could barely wiggle his pinky finger within the fabricated restraints.
As he recovered from his stupor, he found himself amused by such a brazen tactic. He could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your breath tickling his neck.
It was a desperate move but effective.The prince suspected that you could keep him bound like this with ease if you chose.
Abe quickly tended to the Princess. While Red rose to his feet and dusted himself off. Confidently he approached Nuada, his glare was full of fury while his stone hand curled into a tight fist by his side.
The men didn’t exchange a single word as they stared at each other. Eventually, Red turned his attention to you. “You did good, Green.”
With his arms now bound behind his back, Nuada sat silently in an interrogation room. His face was expressionless like a stone statue. Even with his current status as a prisoner, there was an air of superiority.
He stared at you coolly from across the table. His yellow eyes had already analyzed his surroundings and now were focused on you.
You were different from the Red one, far less aggressive with calm eyes and a peaceful presence. He doubted the demon would have sat in silence as patiently as you had.
“I get it, you know,” you started quietly. “That’s what makes this whole situation so complicated, because your motivations make sense, they’re relatable wanting to protect your people, your way of life.”
Nuada curled his lips in disdain, he didn’t want your sympathies, pity, or your ‘understanding.’
“We aren’t blind to the blight you and your people face,” you pointed out. “All fae folk deserve better. If only we-“
“How would you know?” He seethed, interrupting you. “Your world isn’t the one that’s vanishing!”
You shook your head, “Like my brother, I’m caught between worlds, while I’ve come to love humanity for what it is, my true home is in nature… and with that I’ve had to bear witness to mankind’s abuse to the natural world-”
You closed your eyes, anger from years past resurfacing. You had dealt with your own internal struggle, hoping to find a balance between the man made world and the natural world.
“If I could I would change the hearts of man, make them all see what’s truly important, what’s really at stake here.”
Nuada narrowed his eyes. “So…” he drawled, putting the pieces together. “You’re the one that spared the forest god.”
“And you’re the one that sent it to die for your cause,” you retorted, more heatedly than you intended.
He looked guilty for an instant, eyes downcasted, “My people, our way of life, this is the only way I can save them… the truce between mankind and elves has only brought us loss.”
“If I’ve learned anything,” you sighed. “It’s that you can’t blame humans for their nature, not when you have lived for thousands of years, while a human life is so quick and fleeting,” you explained. “With such little time, it makes sense that they’d act with the greed and selfishness of a child. Even in old age they are practically children.”
“You speak as though you are not human,” Nuada noted.
You glanced at your hands, anyone who simply looked at you would assume that you were human just like them, but you weren’t and unfortunately you didn’t have any answers as to what you were or how you came to be.
“I don’t know what I am,” you said without divulging any additional information.
You leaned forward on the table. “Give us a chance to help, to find another way, no more lives lost… no more races or species extinguished.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping, not in defeat but in exhaustion. All he wanted was to save his people, and somehow that goal became twisted and sour.
“What do you propose?” He asked, sounding broken. “My people have given up, the Golden Army was the single source of hope that I had clung to… I see no other way.”
“We change the truce,” you suggested. “We create a way for both species- for all species to thrive.”
Nuada’s eyes flickered to yours, still not convinced, “You make it sound so simple.”
“Prince Nuada has made it clear,” Manning shared exasperatedly. “He won’t work with anyone else but you.”
You could feel the blame and judgment radiating from Manning, he didn’t like this deal and neither did his superiors, but the prince’s threat of the Golden Army was still very real. Rocking the boat, especially after your ‘negotiations’ would surely lead to war.
Manning leaned back in his chair, “We could use this to our advantage,” he considered. “You can gain his trust… and simply take the crown pieces when he least expects it.”
You immediately rose to your feet. “Ugh, I can’t believe you people sometimes, always looking for an easy way out, instead of doing what is actually right,” you spat. “Maybe the prince has a point…”
“Oh come on now agent-”
“I’m not an agent,” you reminded him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t follow your orders or your commands. I’m going to do what’s right.”
You stared daggers at the man, not hiding your hostility towards him, “They had the opportunity to eliminate humanity a millennia ago, instead of proving them right, maybe we should focus on proving them wrong… the truce needs to change.”
“I agree with Ms. Y/n,” Dr. Kraus said. “I’ll contact my superiors at Interpol. We should all work together on this.”
You excused yourself from the meeting, feeling frustrated and angry despite Dr. Kraus’s support. No wonder Nuada had no hope, that the only solution he could see was eradicating all of humanity.
Even you had to remind yourself that not every single person was like Manning. Somehow, someway, you wanted to bring all magical beings out of the shadows, give them a place where they could exist, where they could strive.
You threw open the doors to the library, ready to share all your grievances with Abe but unfortunately he wasn’t inside. Instead you found Red.
“Hey,” he started slightly startled by your abrupt entrance.
“Hey,” you muttered back, your fists still tightly clenched by your side.
“So, it looks like the meeting went well,” he joked, noting your tense body language. He knew it took a lot to make you this mad, but once you were, it was like setting off a bomb.
You rolled your eyes and began pacing the room. “I can’t believe those idiots are in charge!”
He nodded, all too familiar with it. He missed the days when father was around to handle all the administrative crap.
“They’re all absolute imbeciles, literally the worst!” You continued to rant. “I hate all the red tape and bureaucratic bullshit… Can you believe that Manning suggested I try to steal the crown pieces? After all this? I manage to find a peaceful solution and he’d rather I betray the elves because it’s easier… the selfish bastard! I’m so glad I left!”
You stopped in your tracks and sighed, recalling how Red and Abe were practically stuck here, trapped into being part of the BPRD. “I’m sorry Red, I’m so sorry for leaving you and Abe here to deal with this alone.”
He shrugged, “y’know I’ve given it some thought and I figured if given the chance, if I could blend in like you, I’d probably would’ve left a long time ago.”
“Still,” you added, taking a seat next to him. “I wish things were different.”
For a while you and Red sat, sharing stories and memories of the good old days before drifting into a comfortable silence. Eventually, you retired to your room. Unsure what to expect over the next few weeks or months or however long this ‘mission’ took.
First things first, you’ll be accompanying Nuada back to his clan’s palace. Maybe you should start packing a bag, you wondered. It was strange, you had just arrived and now you were leaving again, at least Red wasn’t pissed at you this time. In fact, he had already agreed to keep watering your plants.
You stood there admiring your plant babies, thinking back to how you acquired most of them. Professor Broom would come home from some mission with a pleased look on his face as he gifted you a single seed from wherever he had been. Every time you were so eager to see what would grow, you loved them all as much as you loved your father.
A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts.
“Princess Nuala?” You asked, surprised to see her at your door. You stepped aside, allowing her into your room.
Her eyes lit up as she saw all the green. “Incredible,” she whispered, her fingers brushing over the delicate petals of a gardenia.
“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as she took in your little version of paradise.
“I heard that my brother has agreed to work with you,” she shared, redirecting her attention from all your plants to you.
“For now, at least,” you sighed, still feeling overwhelmed. “I’m pushing for the terms of the truce to be upheld as well as updated,” you added. “Magical beings need more, deserve more…”
Nuala smiled, “An ambitious plan, but I’m sure you’ll find support from our people.”
“I hope so. We’ll need all fae folk to be willing to give this a try.” Although in truth, what concerned you the most was making sure the officials of the BPRD held up their end of the deal.
“I believe you’re quite capable of accomplishing this. Abraham speaks highly of you,” she said.
“He’s a good brother that’s why,” you chuckled. “He has a lot more faith in me than I do.”
“The three of you are quite close,” Nuala noted.
You nodded, “We’ve always been there for each other, without them, without our adoptive father, we’d each be all alone.”
Nuala’s eyes returned to your exceptional garden. It reminded her of how the world used to be, back when her people lived in the forests and the wilds.
“Here, I want you to have this,” she said, holding out her piece of the crown.
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I can’t.”
Nuala held the piece out closer to you. “You were the one who convinced my brother to choose another path, you spared the life of an ancient being,” she explained. “I believe you’ve earned it.”
“I don’t feel right accepting it,” you muttered, eyeing the piece of gold in her hand.
“All the more reason for it to be in your care,” she countered.
Finally, you relented and accepted the crown piece, tucking it into your pocket until you could find a safer place for it. One thing was for sure, you wouldn’t be letting Manning know about this exchange.
“Will you be coming with us?” You asked the Princess.
She shook her head, “I’ll be staying here for now. Especially considering that your people still believe that I have the last crown piece.”
She gave you a knowing look, showing that she already understood that people like Manning couldn’t be trusted. “With me here, they’ll feel more… in control, I believe if I were to leave they’d assume I’d eventually betray them and help my brother awaken the Golden Army.”
Arriving at the palace it was nothing like what you pictured in your mind. You expected bright halls and lush gardens, but instead it was dark, gloomy, lifeless. You could practically feel the oppression outside these walls pushing in, the constant threat of humans looming over them.
Nuada didn’t exactly look happy to be back, his facial expression was rigid and tight. However, the feeling seemed mutual. The elves who were present for his homecoming didn’t receive him with open arms, in fact there was a wariness in the air as they kept their distance from the prince.
You could feel their cautious stares fall upon you as you stepped forward to introduce yourself. The silence was unnerving, you could hear your heart beating anxiously in your ears.
You exhaled slowly, trying your best to relax. “Hello, I’m y/n, I’m with the BPRD and we’re hoping to work with you and other fae folk in an effort to uphold the truce.”
Nuada sighed, then quickly spoke up, reiterating what you said in elvish or at least you hoped that’s what he did.
You mustered up your best smile and the rest of your confidence and continued to explain the plan, going into how you wanted to improve the life for all magical beings. You watched as their expressions changed, from anxious to curious. A few elves worked up the nerve to speak to Nuada, probably asking him questions about what transpired and if you could be trusted.
Your gaze moved upwards, watching discolored leaves fall. “What’s wrong with the leaves?” You asked yourself, but Nuada overheard you.
“The tree is dying,” he answered simply.
“Can I see it?”
Nuada hesitated, closing his eyes for a moment, before nodding. He gestured for you to follow him.
He walked at a fast pace making it difficult to keep up. As you struggled to follow him, the rest of the palace passed as a blur. Suddenly, he came to a halt at the entrance of a rather barren courtyard. Looking at what remained, you could tell it had once been a lush garden, full of wildflowers, ferns, and shrubs.
Despite Nuada being difficult to read, he seemed bothered by the state of the garden. His gaze was hard as he tried to look past the dead land as if he didn’t want to acknowledge just how bad it had gotten.
In the center was a magnificent old tree with a thick and tall trunk and sprawling branches. However, even from a distance, you could see the tree was sick, the bark was discolored and flaking. Some of the branches were brittle and dry. Just looking at it made your own bones ache.
“May I?” You asked quietly.
Nuada shrugged, approaching the tree with you.
One of the elves suddenly spoke up, sounding rather peeved that Nuada brought you here, but the prince was quick to put the elf back in his place, with a sharp and direct order.
You could sense the web of roots under your feet, they were desperately trying to keep the tree alive. You circled the wide tree trunk, dead leaves crunching with each step you took.
Rolling up your sleeves, thin green spirals appeared on your arms as the light moved towards your hands, making them glow. You pressed your palms to the trunk of the tree. Instantly, you felt what you could only describe as a thirst. Your powers felt like a cool spring as your energy bled into the tree.
After several silent moments, you lifted your hands from the tree.
Long thin branches grew and cascaded down like curtains, shielding you and Nuada within. You watched in awe as small green leaves fluttered down like rain underneath the canopy. The entire courtyard was revived, new grass and plants filled the once barren ground. Clusters of wild flowers bloomed around your feet and climbed up the trunk of the tree.
While you were distracted by the surrounding beauty, Nuada continued to watch you, his stare focused and determined. Quiet, with a hunter-like pace, he crept closer towards you.
He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand you. It was like beholding a miracle.
You blinked in surprise when you realized how close Nuada was. His expression was unreadable as he observed your face, his own merely inches away from yours.
Your eyes widened as his hand rose towards your face. You gasped when his fingers lightly touched your hair, retrieving a single leaf that had landed on the crown of your head.
He held your gaze for a moment, his mouth opening slightly only to snap shut.
“Prince Nuada,” you said softly, somehow finding your voice. The leaf fell from his fingers landing gently on the grass.
But the moment was broken as the murmurs of the other elves grew closer, they spoke to one another in awe, examining your work closely.
Immediately, Nuada backed away.
A few elves that spoke English, eagerly engaged you in conversation. They were all obviously delighted with what you had done, it was as if you had revived their spirits along with that old tree.
Nuada followed behind as a group showed you around the rest of the palace. They discussed preparing a big feast for later in the evening to celebrate your arrival and the new parameters of the truce.
Lilting music filled the dining room as trays of food were brought out. Your eyes widened over all the options, each dish was executed artistically, looking more like artwork than food.
Nuada leaned towards you, filling your glass almost to the brim with a deep red wine. Then stood up and raised his own glass. All eyes were on him as he made a simple toast to new beginnings.
You noted a subtle change in his mood from when you first arrived. He was more relaxed now, conversing casually with his subjects as he ate. He was also unexpectedly attentive towards you, checking if you were alright, translating for you mid conversation when needed, and telling you about elven culture.
You suspected that he missed this, missed being a prince during his exile. It wasn’t that the hardened warrior side of him had vanished, instead another side of him had emerged. This side of him was charming, social, an ambassador capable of persuading even the most stubborn leaders.
It was quite refreshing to get this opportunity to laugh and speak with him and not worry about all the pressures you had been feeling all day.
After dinner, everyone began filing out, one of the servants stayed behind and offered to show you to your quarters, but Nuada dismissed them.
He led you out and towards one of the wings of the palace and up a grand staircase. “You did well today,” he commented as you walked a step behind him.
“Thank you.”
“In a few days we will be hosting officials representing the goblins and trolls in order to inform them of these changes.”
You nodded.
“Until then the palace is available to you, think of it as your home, free to explore and entertain yourself, I recommend visiting the library and the gardens.” He stopped outside of a room, opening the door and stepping aside to let you in.
Standing on opposite sides of the doorway, Nuada looked at you for a moment before adding, “Should you need anything feel free to ask, as your host, it’s the least I can do.”
You grinned at the formality of his words and the change in his behavior compared to your first encounter.
He lifted his brow, giving you a questioning look in return. “What?”
“Sorry,” you smiled wider. “Just didn’t think I’d get the opportunity to see you be so… accommodating.”
He rolled his eyes and turned away. “Goodnight,” he said while heading further down the hall to his own room.
You paced around the library, occasionally selecting a tome and perusing its contents before returning it. You were in desperate need of a distraction from how anxious you were feeling, but nothing seemed to work.
All morning the only thing you could think about was the meeting taking place later today. There was a lot of pressure to make all this work, pressures from the BPRD as well as hopeful expectations of the elves.
It was up to you to get the trolls and goblins on board with this plan. Despite how much faith people seemed to have in you, you never saw yourself cut out for all this diplomacy. Fortunately, Nuada would be there, he seemed to have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and you were grateful for it.
“Lady y/n,” a servant called, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Yes?”
“It’s almost time for the summit,” she explained. “You should get dressed.”
“Oh, of course,” you nodded.
As you returned to your room, you found a sage green dress waiting for you on the bed. The dress had a similar shape and design to the ones Nuala wore with a lovely band of gold along the waist. Lifting it up, you noted the weight of it.
“How many layers does this dress have?” You wondered out loud, unsure how you were going to get it all on.
You did your best, struggling more than you’d like to admit, as you changed into the dress. You recalled all those movies that showed aristocratic women getting dressed and how they always had a servant around them to help, it made a lot more sense now.
You exited the dressing room and examined yourself in the mirror, fixing a few areas around the collar to show off the fine embroidery and checking your hair.
Nuada stood a few feet away from the doorway, taking a moment to admire you without you noticing. He was satisfied to see the color he picked suited you so well, and that the style of the dress .
Finally, he rapped his knuckles against the door alerting you of his presence.
You tilted your head blinking curiously when you noticed what he was wearing, it was a small change, but instead of his usual black and red ensemble, it was black and green, the same shade of green as your dress.
“It’s time to go,” he announced. “Our guests aren’t known for their patience.”
“Oh right,” you nodded, quickly following him out.
Nuada led the way, his hands clasped behind his back as you walked a few steps behind him. Without being asked, he slowed his pace, matching it to yours, his pace going from a brisk march to a casual stroll just for you.
“Any tips?” You asked him as you both stopped outside the thick oak doors.
He smirked, his eyes lighting up playfully compared to their usual seriousness, “Afraid they’ll be immune to your charms?”
“Charms?” You questioned, blinking. “I don’t believe my ‘charms’ have ever worked in my favor.”
“They were certainly effective on my people,” Nuada elaborated.
You laughed, “You’re confusing charm with skill, I believe I impressed them with my powers.”
Nuada shook his head, “It’s more than that, it’s the way you speak and act… you’re…” he paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “Endearing, genuine.”
You looked surprised at the compliment, “I didn’t know they felt that way.”
“That surprises you? Even after you won m-“ Nuada stopped himself from finishing that statement.
He cleared his throat, “Goblins like precious metals and gems, intricate devices and designs, and of course flattery. Trolls are not as bright as other creatures, they prefer honest loyal people who are clear with their intentions. Speak too fast or too complex, they’ll immediately distrust you.”
“Flattery and honesty, I can do that. Thank you,” You nodded, letting it all sink in as the doors slowly opened revealing the large throne room.
Nuada chuckled, “Are you sure you’re not royalty?” The prince smoothed his hands over his attire and pushed his shoulders back. The stern expression that you were most familiar with returning to his face.
“My friends,” Nuada greeted. “I am pleased to see you all here in good health.”
Trolls occupied one side of the room, while the goblins sat at the other, yet all eyes fell on you as you emerged, standing at the prince's side. The high ceilings looked small compared to the giant mountain trolls that managed to cram themselves into the back of the room.
“Allow me to introduce our guest, representing humanity as their ambassador, Lady y/n.”
Unsure what the proper etiquette was for a situation like this one was, you nervously bowed as Prince Nuada finished introducing you.
You followed Nuada as he made his rounds, personally introducing you to important goblin and troll figures. He tried his best to conceal his amusement as he watched you quickly put his advice to work, easily charming various goblins and trolls with a smile and a few simple words.
“She’s not as human as I expected.” Nuada overheard one of the goblins share with his comrade. His smile grew at the comment, glad he had trusted you so far and that the others were beginning to recognize that you were something special.
Gently taking hold of your upper arm, Nuada guided you back to the front of the room. As you crept up the steps, a hush fell over the room. All in attendance were eager to hear what you had to say.
Nuada stood behind you, his hands clasped behind his back allowing you to address the whole group.
You explained the changes that had been made to the truce, specifically the part that specified that each magical species would be granted land that suited their needs. You added that the mountain region that had been granted would need to be shared or divided amongst the goblins and trolls.
There were some murmurs amongst them, but it didn’t sound as though they were completely against the idea.
Nuada stepped in from there, answering questions and directing the two groups on what to do next. It was obvious to you that this man was meant to be a leader, it seemed to come to him so easily.
“This could actually work,” he murmured thoughtfully, chin resting in his hand as he watched the trolls and goblins discuss the terms of sharing a territory and rather peacefully in fact.
You smiled and nodded, “it will work.”
Over the next few weeks, you traveled to several hidden fae cities and communities with Nuada. Similar to the Troll Market, all sorts of beings congregated in secret, hidden from humanity. You were amazed by the ingenuity of the fae folk and how they managed to find a way to endure, although you knew full well that this situation wasn’t ideal.
Nuada actually seemed excited to bring you along, getting to show you all these unique places that existed right under the noses of humans. And despite his somber appearance, he also seemed to be in high spirits over the plan, over the restoration of the palace, and the allegiances being formed.
To your surprise, you had actually enjoyed these past few weeks with him. He demonstrated that he was more than a warrior, that he was also an intellectual who had interests in engineering and art, and that underneath it all was a man that simply cared for those he viewed as his people, elves and other creatures.
You had worried that working with him was going to be difficult to say the least, that you would have to listen to long lectures about everything wrong with humanity. Instead, he had focused his efforts to unite the fae and become a true leader for his people. He often spoke of the past with a longing in his eyes, one that tugged on your heart strings. You had a similar longing, one where there was harmony between nature and people and now also magic folk.
Browsing through one of the troll markets, you paused when you smelled something delicious, the aroma of vanilla and nutmeg wafting in the air around you.
Nuada chuckled as he observed you. Without asking, he took your hand and led you to a food stall nearby. He spoke briefly to the vendor and handed something in exchange for the pastry that Nuada was now handing to you.
“Thank you,” you beamed. You inhaled deeply before taking a large bite. You hummed in appreciation, the bun was so soft and warm and was filled with something similar to custard.
While focused more on eating than walking, you accidentally knocked into a troll.
The troll growled something in a language you didn’t understand, but you could tell from his tone that it wasn’t anything nice.
Immediately, Nuada lashed out, coming to your defense. He started shouting back at the creature, his voice dripping with venom and his eyes full of rage.
The troll roared, thumping on his chest, looking rather eager to fight.
Clutching Nuada’s arm, you attempted to hold him back, having never seen him this angry before. He reached for his lance, gripping the hilt tightly.
At the sight of the silver spear, the troll seemed to come to his senses, finally backing away, but Nuada didn’t care, all he saw was red.
“Nuada,” you murmured softly, tugging at his arm, hoping to de-escalate the situation. “Come on, don’t let this ruin our day.”
“But-“ Nuada sighed, his rage subsiding as he looked at your face. “Fine,” he relented. “However, next time anyone speaks to you that way, I’m beheading them.”
Returning to the palace almost felt like returning home. This time around, the reception of your arrival was warm and welcoming as many of the elves gathered for your and Nuada’s return.
After another large feast, the prince quietly slipped away while everyone else mingled. You tilted your head, watching as he snuck out through the wooden double doors. Excusing yourself from the table, you followed him.
“Nuada,” you reached out, taking a hold of his arm. Successfully stopping him in the hall.
“Hm?” He turned to face you.
“Here,” you slipped the third crown piece into his hand.
He couldn’t hide his utter confusion as he felt the cold metal in his palm, “This is…”
“The final crown piece,” you answered.
“Why?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours.
“I don’t want you or your people to be out of options if this falls through, I trust you,” you said simply. “And I trust you’ll do what’s right… Wish I could say the same for humans.”
Nuada stared at the gold piece in his hand, rubbing his thumb the length of it as he processed your words. He now had all three pieces and could claim the Golden Army.
But…
He lifted his head, his gaze falling upon you, you had provided him with a better solution, one that he was willing to try, to work towards. He’d keep his word, he wouldn’t awaken the army as long as there was hope for his people.
“Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice, that still conveyed his gratitude. “But it should remain with you.”
As he returned the crown piece to you, his touch lingered on your hand for longer than necessary before he said good night.
The next morning, sometime after breakfast, Nuada came to your room, seemingly in a hurry.
“I’d like you to accompany me somewhere,” he said vaguely.
You lifted your brow, “Um…Sure?”
“I cannot believe I had forgotten about this until now,” Nuada shared with a lighthearted tone as he took you by the hand and led you down several familiar halls.
“The library?” You questioned as you and him stopped in front of the large doors.
He shook his head, pulling you further into the large room. Nuada led you to a door towards the back that easily could be missed, in fact, despite all the time you had spent in here, you had never noticed it before.
His smile grew as he opened it, inside the walls of the small room were lined with tall cabinets that had rows and rows of tiny drawers. On each drawer were words carved into the wood in elvish. Nuada gestured for you to open one.
Sliding the small drawer open, you peeked inside to find a jar filled with seeds. “A seed library…” you murmured, eyes filled with wonderment as you realized the hundreds, no thousands of plants held in this small room.
Nuada nodded, “Most of these were collected long ago, some of these plants no longer exist.”
“This is amazing,” you started as it all sunk in. “Could I try to plant some? Perhaps I could nurture some of these back into existence.”
Nuada smiled, it was a smile you hadn’t seen before, one filled with youthful excitement, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“So which ones are flowers?” You asked, eager to get started.
Nuada helped you select a few, explaining that these flowers had the most wonderous scent, that sometimes if he tried hard enough he could recall just how lovely they smelled.
Sitting side by side in a courtyard, you and him prepared a flowerbed, breaking up the soil, making sure it was soft and moist. You rolled a seed between your fingers, your arms glowing, but nothing happened.
“Keep trying,” he encouraged when he saw the look of disappointment on your face.
Taking a deep breath, you tried again, “Can you describe it for me, what this flower looks like? That might help.”
“They’re simple but elegant, like gardenias but larger and smell just as lovely and their leaves are a dark green and appear waxy.”
You could almost picture the flower in your mind’s eye, see it sprout and grow and blossom. Looking down into your hand, you laughed seeing that the little seedling had finally sprouted. Delicately, you planted it in the fresh soil.
“You must think poorly of me,” Nuada stated unprompted. “You must see me as a man who seeks violent solutions, solutions where I willingly sacrifice my people and allies needlessly for my own goals.”
You shook your head, “I can tell none of this has been easy for you, I know that it all weighs heavily on your conscious.”
“Still,” he sighed. “I’m not like you, I hadn’t considered any other option, I hadn’t considered that peace could still be possible. You are… admirable to say the least.”
“You’re mistaken,” you whispered, eyes staring at your hands as they padded the soil. “I may be the worst of them all…”
Nuada tilted his head, you obviously had his attention.
“Before Professor Broom,” you began, your mind drifting to your childhood. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember living in a forest, alone, I was practically feral… unfortunately, I didn’t stay hidden away forever, eventually unlucky travelers and hikers stumbled across my path and all my encounters with them ended the same, who knows how many I killed.”
The memories were foggy, but you could still picture roots wrapping themselves around strangers and coiling tighter and tighter until blood ran.
“I don’t know what was different about father when he found me, but I didn’t kill him. He patiently camped in the woods, keeping his distance from me, but stayed close enough that we could observe each other. I remember him being such a gentle soul…”
You recalled watching him from the outskirts of his camp, he started leaving little treats and trinkets for you in the same spot for you daily. Apparently, he used his experience as Hellboy’s father to help him make a connection with you.
“I have a penance to pay, to both humanity and nature.”
Nuada placed his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I think it’s been paid.”
“So,” Red started. “Once you're done with this whole truce crap, what are your plans?”
Nuada opened his mouth to answer the question, but quickly closed it as he realized he actually didn’t know the answer. He assumed that you would be staying with him, living in the palace like you have been, but in all honesty, he had no idea what your plans were, it’s not like he asked or spoke to you about it.
He felt an unpleasant heaviness within him as he acknowledged the possibility of you leaving, moving on to a new and different place to help others.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” you said, working on some needlepoint for the twins’ nursery. “I’ve been so focused on helping the fae, that I haven’t had the time to really think about what’s next.”
You and the prince were currently visiting, mostly to update the BPRD on your progress, but also to spend some time with your family and check in on how everyone was doing. Abe and Nuala appeared all lovey dovey and Liz had shared with you all her crazy pregnancy cravings.
“Well, there’s always room for you here,” Liz offered, absentmindedly rubbing her pregnant belly.
“Thanks, although I’m not sure Manning feels the same way,” you laughed.
“You’re not any worse than Red and they still put up with all his crap.”
“Hey,” he scolded playfully, glaring at Liz. “The BPRD would cease to exist without me.”
Nuada tuned out the rest of the conversation as he contemplated what to do. The thought of you far off somewhere without him stung more than it should. What if something happened to you? What if he never saw you again?
Suddenly you yelped, having accidentally stabbed your index finger with the needle, Nuada’s eyes narrowed as he watched you, he could practically feel the sting of it on his own fingertip. Looking down at his pale hand, he saw a little droplet of blood.
His stomach lurched at the realization. Without a word he withdrew from the group and went out into the hall. On the outside to any of the agents he passed he looked as calm and collected as ever, but inside he was a dam on the verge of breaking due to this latest revelation.
“Have you told her?” Nuala inquired behind him.
Nuada shouldn’t have been surprised that she had followed him, but he didn’t answer her question, he just huffed and turned away.
“Brother,” she urged.
“Have you told the blue one?” He sneered.
“I have.”
He rubbed his forehead, love was a serious matter, especially in their case, it wasn’t something that should ever be taken lightly, because for him it wasn’t something fleeting or lighthearted, it was deep and all consuming.
But when did it get to this point? When did his infatuation become love?
“She has a right to know.”
He began to pace slowly, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not that simple,” he argued.
“All the more reason for her to know. We had our suspicions that this could happen,” she reasoned. “That our bond, our ability to feel each other’s pain, could transfer once we each found love.”
His jaw tensed at the word ‘love’, knowing it would only become stronger, that soon you’d experience his every ache and pain and that he’d feel all of yours.
“Human love isn’t as complicated as this,” Nuada stated, glaring at his twin. “What if she doesn’t understand? What if she doesn’t want it and rejects me? What do I do then?”
His mind was already racing with worse case scenarios. The splitting pain he felt over the mere thought of you not loving him had him worried. There was no way for him to stop this, he had no control over it, you and him were now bound to each other, but that didn’t mean you had to remain at his side or even return his love.
“I can see that she cares for you, brother,” Nuala soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Tell her.”
It was nice being back at the palace, while seeing your family was great, something about being there made you appreciate the peace and quiet cultivated here. Life was simpler, calmer, amongst the elves.
Nuada, however, hadn’t been the same since returning. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but he was distant, colder. It reminded you of how he had behaved when you and him first met. It’s not as if he was actively avoiding you, but the rapport that you two had developed had seemed to vanish.
As you were walking through the halls, planning to visit the seed library, but halted midstep when you spotted Nuada training in the gardens… in the rain.
You watched mesmerized from the outskirts of the courtyard. Drops of water rolled down his back drawing your attention to the way his muscles moved and flexed. Graceful didn’t even begin to cover the sight before you.
Despite having already seen him in action, you were still impressed by the fluidity and speed of his movements. He transformed something as violent as fighting into something captivating and beautiful like an intricate dance.
Wet strands of hair clung to the front of his face as he spun with a final flourish. He stabbed his spear into the soft wet dirt, his chest quickly rising and falling while he caught his breath.
Nuada raked a hand through his hair, slicking it back as he lifted his head. He gave you a questioning look when he spotted you on the other side of the courtyard. His lips slowly parted, but before he could speak you scurried away full of embarrassment.
You tried to regain some of your composure as you sped walked through the halls, not really paying attention anymore to where you headed. Abruptly, you halted when you noticed that you were walking towards a dead end, but before you could turn around you heard Nuada say your name.
You could hear him approach, stopping once he was right behind you. Your heart sped up as Nuada possessively placed his hand over the center of your chest, his warm fingertips pressed down into your soft flesh as he pulled your back to rest against his wet chest.
Under his palm he could feel your heart beating in sync with his own. His other arm wrapped around your waist holding you firmly in place.
“This,” Nuada began, his voice low and velvety right by your ear. “This was how you grabbed me that night, do you remember?”
“Yes,” you whispered.
Closing his eyes, he sighed wistfully, his breath tickling your flushed face. “Your touch lingered for days and it was all I could think about,” He admitted, his arms winding tighter around you. “I couldn’t recall the last time someone had held me or touched me like that, with such…passion.”
His hand crept a little higher from your chest, gliding over your collarbone before his palm rested on your neck. You released a shaky breath, your head spinning from his touch and the low tone of his voice. You were barely even able to register the words he spoke, completely confused by his intentions.
Nuada exhaled heavily, “I suppose that’s when it started, my infatuation for you.”
“What?” You squeaked.
His index finger traced down the center of your throat as he lowered his hand and loosened his grip on you. “There’s an important matter we need to discuss.”
He started heading towards his room and beckoned for you to follow.
“What is it?” You asked.
He shut the door and stood in front of you with his hands behind his back. “I’ve come to care for you,” he confessed, his expression stern as if he had given you a life sentence.
“I care about you too,” you said in a soft tone.
Nuada shook his head and frowned, frustrated with himself for not being clear and not being more eloquent about it. “It’s more than that… I’m in love with you and there are circumstances that you need to be aware of.”
“Circumstances? Sounds… serious.”
His heart sank at your hesitant expression, but he continued to press on. “You are aware of my bond with my sister, yes?”
You nodded, “if either of you gets hurt, so does the other.”
“Well, I’m no longer bound to her, I’m bound to you.” His eyes studied your face as he spoke, watching your brow furrow as you pieced together what he said.
“How?”
“Because you have become that important to me,” he answered with absolute certainty.
You looked up at him, slowly closing the space between the two of you. Your fingers lightly brushed over his skin as you tucked several loose strands of his white hair behind his ear.
His hand promptly took hold of your wrist, his expression torn as if he couldn’t decide between stopping you or encouraging you.
“You need to understand,” he started, his grip tightening. “That there will be no turning back, I will never let you go.”
You were aware of Nuada’s intentions, he wanted this to be absolutely clear for you, for you to know just how consequential it was for you to start a relationship with him, even if it meant scaring you off. But, surprisingly you weren’t afraid or intimidated by the thought of being with him for the rest of your life.
Through your observations, starting from the very beginning, you had seen how lonely he was. How he was trying to repair things basically on his own. He kept everyone at a distance while he shouldered a burden alone until very recently.
In your eyes, Nuada was more than a warrior or a prince, you saw all of him… he was complex and intriguing and passionate. You wanted to be the person he shared those parts of himself with, and most of all you didn’t want him to be alone again.
“I want this,” you promised. “I want you.”
His other hand held your chin, his thumb brushing over your trembling lip as he tilted your head up. He leaned in, eyes boring into yours. “Mine forever.”
Nuada didn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his and eagerly pushing you against the wall, his tongue swept over your bottom lip before finding its way into your mouth.
Your fingers clutched the back of his head, curling around his wet hair as you reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion. Your other hand ran down his chest, his heart racing under your touch.
His fingers hooked behind one of knees, yanking your leg upward, instinctively you wrapped it around his waist allowing him to be even closer to you, his pelvic bone now grinding against you. He pushed your skirts up so his hands could roam over your thighs while his mouth latched onto your neck.
Nuada, under typical circumstances, would be more intentional about where he left marks but right now he couldn’t care less as little pink and red marks bloomed on yours and his skin.
You had never felt this sort of urgency before, it was as if he’d die if he had to wait any longer before being with you.
In a hurried and rough manner, he undid the sash of your dress then began to tear away all the layers in his way. He moaned obscenely, feeling your bare torso pressed against his own. His lips explored the newly exposed flesh, nipping and sucking.
Even he was surprised by how desperate and animalistic he was acting, unaware of just how much his body craved your touch and your skin on his, he was practically ravenous.
You could hear him panting heavily by your ear as he undid his pants. He pushed your underwear to the side, exposing your slit. Fortunately, you were already aroused because Nuada couldn’t wait any longer.
Taking his cock in his hand for just a moment, he aligned it with your tight warm cunt. In a fluid motion, he thrusted into you completely, pausing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried in your velvety walls.
You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck for support as he began thrusting. His pace immediately starting out fast and hard.
Nuada’s cock was long, reaching depths no previous lover ever had. Your nails raked across his pale skin as you cling to him, yet this caused you to hiss as you also felt the sting of it.
“You are,” he panted, “enchanting, wondrous, divine…”
He sloppily kissed along your shoulder, loving every little sound you made as he fucked you. He wondered if he’d regret not taking his time with you, for being so rough with his flower, but he didn’t feel any pain, just waves and waves of pleasure.
There would be time, plenty of time, where he could make up for it, where he would be a gentle, more tender lover, who will kiss and touch every inch of you.
It didn’t take much longer before you came. You moaned his name, muscles now tightening and your toes curling.
Nuada immediately followed, grunting as he rode out his orgasm and came inside of you.
Propping himself up against the wall with his arms, he caught his breath. Leaning his head down he kissed your forehead then along the side of your face. Acting with more self control, he cupped your face, gazing lovingly into your eyes, “I am yours.”
The following morning, things progressed a lot more slowly with your new lover.
Nuada groaned as you straddled him, his back arching off the bed as you slowly took his cock. Casually he fucked you from below, rolling his hips at a leisurely pace as you rode him.
He admired you, taking in all the pink and purple splotches left from the night’s activities, but also appreciating how lovely you looked in the light of the morning.
“Have you packed?” You asked Nuada as he entered the bedroom. You were currently packing your own bag, excited to take a small trip back home.
A couple of days ago, you received a message letting you know that Liz delivered two healthy babies. It had been a couple of months since your last visit, so you were already due for another, but this news made it even more necessary to go.
Nuada nodded, placing his hands on your waist. “Do you need help?”
You shook your head, “No, I think I have almost everything I need.”
Nuada kissed you, right under your earlobe. “Are you looking forward to seeing everyone?”
“Of course I am… I can’t wait to meet my little niece and nephew!” You gushed. “What about you?”
“It will be nice to catch up with my sister, see how she’s adjusting to living with the blue one.”
“He has a name, you know?”
Nuada chuckled, but didn’t bother correcting himself.
“What do you think I should have the babies call me? I was thinking of Auntie Green.”
“That is… suitable I suppose.”
Suddenly you grinned as a thought crossed your mind, “This means you’re also an uncle now, because of our lifelong magical love bond.”
He shook his head, trying to hide his smile over your name for the bond. Taking a few steps back, he moved aside as you finished zipping up your bag. Without thinking, Nuada lifted it up from the bed, ready to carry it to your destination for you.
“Uncle Nuada,” you mumbled, but scrunched your nose in disapproval. “Hmmm, what about… Uncle Silver? That’s much better!”
“Must they call me anything?” He muttered.
“Hey! Don’t be like that, plus you might be a biological uncle soon.”
Nuada sighed, “I suppose you are right… in that case, I think I’d prefer Uncle Silverlance.”
He offered you his arm, escorting you out of the bedroom, so you both could be on your way.
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goodlucktai · 7 months ago
Text
the way things change
tmnt 2007 word count: 2k post-movie / canon compliant b team & leo-centric
this was my main piece for the @turtlestogetherzine ! it was such a fun project that so many talented people came together on and if you haven’t already you should definitely check out everyone else’s AMAZING contributions !
title borrowed from rivers and roads by the head and the heart
read on ao3
x
Donnie and Mikey have always been something of a matching set. 
During their early years, they went everywhere together. Even when Mikey was at his most irritating and Donnie seemed two seconds away from disposing of him in brutal fashion—even though the two of them could be like night and day at the best of times—they were always on each other’s team first. 
Raph used to call them ‘the twins’ because they were both his younger brothers and they were both, in his own words, tag-teaming little twerps. The twin moniker caught on and even Splinter would use it occasionally. In the back of his mind, Leo still does.
Three weeks after the dust had settled over the remains of Winter Corp, he found himself thinking, Guess some things never change. 
“Donnie, a tablet at the breakfast table?” Leo asks dryly. “Really?” 
Blatant disregard like this for one of sensei’s longest-standing rules was usually much more Raph’s speed. 
Don pauses mid-scroll and thinks for a moment. 
“Mikey, what day is it?” he says eventually.
“It’s the eleventh, dude, you’re good,” is Mikey’s distracted reply. 
He’s making a game out of pouring as much cereal into his bowl as it will physically hold, which has amounted to a sizable mound of off-brand Lucky Charms. Leo is reluctantly curious to see what he’s going to do when he remembers he still needs to add milk. 
Donnie, for his part, immediately goes back to ignoring the rest of them as a whole. 
Raph puts his spoon down. “Explain what just happened.”
“It’s a prime number day,” Mikey says blithely, without looking up from the careful, exacting process of shaking another couple of marshmallow pieces out of the box. “Prime means primo screen-time.” 
Splinter is sipping his tea without refuting Mikey’s explanation, so that must be a thing now. Leo blinks, processing this. He can’t help remembering how it was before he went away, the strict ‘no electronics at the table’ policy, because mealtimes were family times. 
Raph directs his confusion down a different route. “Mike knows what prime numbers are? Since when?”
Donnie looks up from his tablet to angle a narrow look Raph’s way. His warm brown eyes are markedly cooler than before. He clearly didn’t appreciate the joke. 
He’s never been one to pick fights with his siblings. The Donatello Leo knows is a gentle soul, every bit as deadly as the rest of his family, but more inclined to mediate disputes than start one himself. 
So the last thing Leonardo expects is for him to take a page out of Raph’s book at eight in the morning. 
When Mikey starts tapping and humming, Leo can't help smiling a little. It’s a sound he missed in the jungle. 
“God, I can’t even hear myself think around here,” Raph grumbles. 
To Leo’s ears, it’s not unkind. Teasing, but good-natured. Leo knows what Raphael sounds like when he’s ticked off beyond all reason—when he’s angling for a fight and determined to get one, when he’ll say anything to get Leo to punch back—and this is very much not that. 
But something darts through Mikey’s expression that makes the big brother half of Leo’s brain sit up and pay attention. Donnie notices, too. 
“He has ADHD, asshole,” he snaps. “If it bothers you that much, put on some headphones or go away.”
The atmosphere changes on a dime. Splinter’s ears go up, whiskers slicked back. Raph looks as surprised as Leo feels.
“Donnie!” Leo says, more stunned than scolding. 
Donnie puts his tablet down, not quite hard enough to constitute a slam. “Are we really going to pretend that Mikey’s stimming is more annoying than listening to Raph when he’s in one of his moods?”
“Er, no.” Leo briefly looks to Splinter for guidance before he catches himself. “I mean—it’s just the way you said it.”
“The way I said it?” Donnie demands. 
“Dee, knock it off,” Mikey interjects unhappily. “You know I hate it when you guys put me in the middle.”
It pulls Donatello up short. He visibly grits his teeth, then bites out, “Can I be excused?” 
Splinter knows when to pick his battles. It’s a lesson all of his sons could stand to learn. 
“Take your plate, please,” the rat says. 
To Donnie’s credit, he doesn’t storm down the tunnel to the lab, even though it looks like he’d like to. The reinforced door shuts behind him with a decisive clang that rings through the lair. 
Leo feels wrong-footed by the entire exchange. Somehow, in the last three minutes, a comfortable family breakfast went entirely off the rails. 
Mikey isn’t humming anymore. The kitchen feels quieter than it should. 
“Hey, I didn’t mean—” Raph starts uncertainly. 
“Don’t be dumb, I know that,” Mikey says, not looking at anyone. He tips his dry cereal back into the box and then picks at his toast until he’s moved enough of it around that his plate appears halfway finished and he’s allowed to leave the table. 
He does so at a run, booking it to the lab. The door opens right up for him. It was locked the last time Leo tried it. 
And it’s locked the next time he tries it, too, half an hour later. 
“It’s me,” Leo calls, feeling a little foolish standing out in the hall. “Can I come in?”
Donnie’s voice answers immediately. “List the first ten prime numbers and I’ll think about it.”
Okay, this is Donnie with a grudge. Leo remembers enough of what that looks like to tread carefully. 
“I just want to talk,” he says. “Is Mikey okay?”
The door unlocks and Donnie rolls it open. He gives Leo an inscrutable look before he stands back to let him in. 
Mikey is parked in a huge bean bag chair in the corner, headphones on, drawing tablet propped against his knees. His ninja senses must have pinged when Leo walked in; he glances up right on cue and offers a hang-loose sign. Leo mirrors it, entirely because he knows it’ll make Mikey snicker. 
“He’s fine,” Donnie says unnecessarily, sitting down at his desk. “We look out for each other.” 
If that’s a jab, it’s a well-aimed one. 
“Yeah, I see that,” Leo says. “Look, I’m sorry if it sounded like I took Raph’s side back there. But you know that Raph doesn’t think Mikey’s stupid. He would be the first to break somebody’s jaw for implying that.”
“So that makes it okay to say whatever he wants to a neurodivergent teenager?” Don presses, eyes flashing. “But when I say something to Raph—”
Leo can feel himself losing his patience. “Donnie, come on. All I meant was that you shouldn’t pick fights when you know better.”
As soon as he says it he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Donnie spins his chair around to face the computer monitors, neatly severing his half of the conversation.
“Close the door behind you when you leave,” he says in a clipped tone. 
Across the room, Mikey is watching them with round eyes. He’s a few seconds from tossing his art aside and getting up to diffuse the fight. As much as he hates when his brothers put him in the middle, he has no problem putting himself there. 
It almost seems like Mikey isn’t sure if it’s safe to leave Donnie alone with this strange newcomer who looks a lot like the big brother who left them all behind. 
Leo breathes through the sharp pain that brings him and thinks, Fix this. 
He draws another chair over and sits down. Donnie’s shoulders go stiff but he doesn’t react otherwise. 
“Sorry,” Leo says quietly. 
It takes a minute but eventually Donnie nods, brown eyes full and troubled. 
“Me too,” he replies. “I know I’m being difficult. I’m just—I feel so angry all the time.”
Donnie isn’t Raph. He never had any problem with Leo’s authority. He had his own parts to play on the team, parts he took pride in—doctor, scientist, engineer. He was relieved to hand back that mantle of leadership, to step back into his curated role, but that doesn’t mean everything just returns to the way it was.
Donatello still resents his big brothers for abandoning him, each in their own way. He’s still bitter about all the extra weight he had to carry, without thanks or credit. He’s been stuck in place for the last two years, no outlet, no time for himself, and nobody on his team but Mikey, the one person Donnie has always been directly responsible for and could never bring himself to burden. He picked up an I.T. job he hated and stuck with it for longer than he should have, because he wouldn’t know how to quit something halfway if his life depended on it. His typically strong relationship with Raph—one that Leo’s secretly envied since they were kids—soured and left him without their hothead’s support. He had to figure out how to be a grown-up at the tender age of sixteen. 
Then Leo came back, expecting everything to be exactly how he left it. 
Of course Donnie’s angry. It’s no wonder he’s picking fights left and right. 
“You’re not being difficult, Don,” Leo says immediately, wishing, not for the first time, that Splinter had never sent him away. “If you want to scream and throw things at me, I think that would probably be more than fair.”
“I don’t want to do any of that,” Donnie replies wryly. He swivels his chair slightly, facing Leo again. There’s something grudgingly hopeful about him now—Leo’s little brother, trying to remember how to put his faith in Leo’s hands. 
It’s such a precious thing to hold. Leo can’t screw this up again. 
“You’ve worked out a pretty solid system while I was gone,” he says, bumping Donnie’s shoulder with his fist. “Can you show me the ropes?”
Give Donnie a chance to teach and he shines. Sure enough, he brightens a little. 
“We help April with acquisitions for her antique store on Thursdays. Do you want to come?” 
Leo heard about that from April. Apparently it’s more of a game than a chore, a city-wide scavenger hunt. He was hoping for an invitation but he wasn’t expecting one. He feels himself smile. 
Mikey, who has clearly been listening in, lowers his headphones and asks, “All four of us?”
That brings Donnie up short. Leo jumps in. 
“I told Raph I wanted us to do a team-building exercise sometime soon, and he said he’d be down for anything, as long as you two promised to go easy on him.” 
That’s exactly what he said, too—only he’d added, gruffly affectionate, ‘those tag-teaming little twerps.’ 
“Sound good?” Leo asks them warmly. 
Mikey beams. Donnie’s disagreeable outer shell begins to soften. By some miracle, Leo still knows how to do this. Two years wasn’t enough to overshadow a lifetime. 
It’s a privilege to sit in the lab, watching Donnie bring up files on his latest project, listening attentively to engineering and mechanics that go clean over his head. Mikey joins them at the desk and shows Leo the digital painting he’s been working on, chattering energetically about watercolor and composition and the new brush he’s obsessed with. 
Raph wanders in some time later with an apology in hand—drinks from the twins’ favorite coffee shop. He probably left right after breakfast to be back already. 
Donnie smiles after the first sip. Raph must have got it exactly right.
Leo lets his tea warm his hands and soaks up their company the way regular turtles bask in sunlight. 
Donnie and Mikey built a house in the empty space their brothers left behind. The door isn’t always open, but Leo and Raph can always knock. Maybe they could even live there together someday, once they remember how to be on each other’s team. 
Until then, Leo is willing to put in the work. It’s what he’s always done. 
He’ll do whatever it takes to get back home. 
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Note
hope what i’m bringing up here is appropriate for this blog. i could try finding any other outlet, internal or outside resources that would help me get through this, but i’m trying not to ruffle any feathers.
so, since last year i’ve been watching something i used to be into when i was younger and participating in its fandom. through rewatching it i found out that i shipped two characters that i always had a noticeable affinity towards, except i realized i like the pairing way more as an adult because of everything i missed between them since i last saw the show. they were paired with different characters by the end and even if it was shown to make more “sense” for them according to the greater fandom, i initially didn’t care because of how much i enjoyed their dynamic thoughout the show’s duration. i felt that it brought out a bunch of discussion to be told whether you saw it the lens of a romatic or platonic relationship. most of what happened in the show’s main timeline could not go on without their involvement, and their individual development arcs kicked off because of the undeniable romantic relationship they tried to pursue at one point.
the big thing about their relationship that apparently makes it a “proship”/comship is the huge age difference between them, and unfortunately that’s unfortunately all what the fandom sees them for. i feel that even when talking about the romantic/sexual aspect of them together and the implications, they have one of the least discussed dynamics i’ve seen of many of the major characters, which doesn’t make sense because they’re both the male and female mcs. it’s always “thank god they didnt get together, i’m sick at the thought of them with each other” even though thats beyond what their relationship was like as the story was drawing to a close. one tweet i saw which was a quote of one which showed a screenshot of the characters in the ship i’m talking about in a canonical platonic showing was something along the lines of “the four people who still ship this must be on suicide watch” which is just an awful thing to think of about anyone.
i do try to feel good about shipping them publicly despite all thats been brought towards me for it. or, at least the nothingness of it. a lot of blogs i’ve interacted with and been interested about following in the past through tag scrolling have blocked me for shipping it. i know this because i always notice that a couple blogs who mainly post about the fandom aren’t on my dash. it’s weird, i don’t even like it as a “standard” underage ship. i’m not saying they’re wrong for keeping themselves safe from things they don’t like, it just glooms me out because i still want to interact with much of the fandom, even if we don’t agree on stuff. i’m too old to be spiralling over these things and activating the sanctification in me i’m trying hard to undo to enjoy my hobbies. why does it even matter to me this much that people block me because they don’t like shit i create or post
with this i feel like anti culture absolutely neuters any kind of intellectual discussion about characters who were in a “problematic” relationship and gone out of it to be part of a standard platonic one. i don’t how unique it is for this ship, but i do imagine that people look into the bad things about it far too much. and hey, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure
(i’m being vague to protect myself from antis who might find me out and send me dumb shit, forgive me)
No, no, you're very right. The rise of anti culture has definitely led to a decrease in having decent, intellectual conversations about pairings in media and how the relationships between characters shift in ways that display incredibly important aspects of their stories.
But that ties back to the loss of media literacy, I fear.
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eddiediazismyhusband · 5 months ago
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This is what gets me when people write in depth analysis about how dumb they would be to not go there with queer Eddie and with Buddie. Like yes, I agree it would be incredibly stupid and bad writing - unfortunately as much as I want that to reassure me(and I’ll admit some days when I’m sad and need to not be I pretend to let it), it doesn’t. Just because it would be stupid and bad writing doesn’t mean they won’t do it. We’ve seen this show repeatedly make bad writing choices before. I’ve watched TV shows time and time again screw things up in the eleventh hour, I’ve seen so many shows set things up and then take a hard left turn into the dumbest plots in existence. And they get backlash for it but still do it. So as much as I want to believe that because logic and basic literary analysis says Eddie is queer and Buck and Eddie are each others’ best match - that isn’t a guarantee of anything. I’m also preparing myself that if we actually do get a queer Eddie storyline and buddie canon - there is a high possibility that they stumble through it in a ridiculous and poorly written way. I want more than anything for that not to be true but it is still a very distinct possibility.
this is exactly my feelings- like one of my biggest pet peeves are people making posts as if buddie is 10000% happening and there is absolutely zero possibility of it not going that way which i’m sorry to be a debbie downer once again but that’s just not true
what kills me is everyone in the fandom keeps talking about “it’d be so ooc for _______”, seemingly forgetting the fact that s7 was ooc for so many of the main characters to the point that we were all ragging on the writers about it… like if they were able to write a season so sloppy and terribly ooc what makes you think they won’t continue to do so, especially after tim just said “i don’t like to plan out seasons”
ooc writing happens in tv shows all the time. just because something wouldn’t make sense for a character/plotline doesn’t mean they won’t just do it anyway. like I’ve said before, tim has shown us that he only cares about shock value and drama- telling us himself in a interview that “i can’t just let them be happy, then no one would watch” (which is such total bullshit but this is the man who decided to make eddie have an emotional affair with a doppelgänger of his dead wife rather than just, yk, confirm his queerness)
i get it. it’s disappointing. you don’t want your favorite shows/characters to tank and go off the rails. but unfortunately, it has happened time and time and time again in network tv, and 9-1-1 is not immune to this.
i fully agree with the posts and analyses that detail how the show has set up buddie being the only satisfactory endgame relationship between them, and how it would be foolish and bad writing for them not to, but unfortunately (as you said in your ask) this show has made god awful writing choices frequently (literally the entirety of s7 is proof of that) and they have jumped through hoops to avoid buddie canon countless times— there is nothing stopping them from doing it again.
and this idea that just because they’re talking about buddie openly must mean they’re going canon is ridiculous. the short is reaching the end if it’s run; if it even gets renewed past s8, it’s very unlikely that they’ll go past s10 at the longest. they just moved to a new network, baited the fuck out of buddie pre-s7 and then didn’t give us anything and people are still watching. they know that as long as people think there’s a possibility of buddie canon that they’ll watch the show— it’s textbook queer/shipbaiting. 9-1-1 is not immune to this just because they’ve said “we don’t want to be accused of queerbaiting” in the past. we’ve reached a point where the network queerbaiting won’t cause enough backlash to warrant them being cautious anymore. it’s a dick move, yeah, but these creators are in this job for one thing: money. they have proven they don’t actually give a fuck about meaningful storytelling. it’s why they rely on cheap drama and shock value to get by bc they know people will tune in anyway.
i completely understand wanting to be hopeful and optimistic. i will forever be hopeful for the day that buddie finally go canon (although i hope they ditch the mustache before then because i don’t want to think of my alcoholic uncle when i see eddie kiss buck for the first time) and when it does i will be so fucking happy after waiting for 6 years.
but that’s the thing. i have waited for 6 years. i’m tired of getting my hopes up each season bc “guys this is literally the closest we’ve ever been there is no way they aren’t going to go there now” just to get slapped in the face by the showrunners and writers. i’m not going to get my hopes up about it just to be let the fuck down once again. and frankly, i don’t wanna see the fallout when we are let down again because people decided to convince themselves that it was 100% for sure set in stone happening when in reality it’s really not.
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bazaarwords · 5 months ago
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in spite of war [1/? | griddlehark | post-canon]
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@votum-cordis thank u for this! i've taken some... artistic liberties....
(also big thank u to @smokestarrules for reading this)
🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴
Corporeal is a word I probably wouldn’t have used to describe myself, before.
Not that I wasn’t, just that I’d never, like, looked in the mirror and said: Check me out. Corporeal. I can touch myself. Weheheyyy.
I mean, I’d done that in a mirror. A couple times, actually. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, I told Ianthe once. She’d had a knife to my neck. Don’t really remember how we got on the topic.
You’d think being dead would rip the horniness out of your loins, kicking and screaming and then cold and dead, just like the rest of you. But it really doesn’t.
Anyway, corporealism.
So, the reason I’d been thinking about it was the head massager. You know, one of the ones with the spindly little wires and the handle that you press down over your head and that makes you feel tingly and weird. I’d found it in my room, sitting on the foot of my bed with such deliberate placement I’d first thought: trap. It’s obviously a trap.
Then, you know, being dead doesn’t get rid of your curiosity either. I think it makes it worse, actually. You know what dying feels like, so if that’s the worst thing that happens then whatever. Been there, done that. 
Let the head massager squeeze my brains out and kill me. Won’t be as bad as last time. Won’t be as bad as the River where you’re simultaneously hot and cold, wet and dry, feeling every single human emotion (and a few inhuman ones, too) while your soul is ricocheted around like a pinball.
Let me just say. That first time I tried it? I would have killed Dad-God all over again for that sensation.
I must have sat on my bed for an hour, feeling the cold metal points warm up as they dragged across my scalp. By the time I’d decided I was done, I was half-asleep, noodly and lame, curled up in a ball, the massager stuck on my head like a new and stupid hat.
Then you knocked at my door. I might have tried to save face, might have scrambled to my feet and ripped the thing off my head. A lot stays the same when you're dead, but some things change, too. I didn’t really give a shit how stupid I looked. I was relaxing.
“Yeah?” I called, too blissed out to get up.
“What are you doing, Nav?” You asked, with the kind of inflection that made it sound like you knew exactly what I was doing.
“Having private me-time. That’s being ruined.” I said, with the kind of inflection that made it sound like nothing at all was being ruined.
There was a pause. I didn’t look up, but I could feel you looking at me. I could always feel it, you know? Even back when we were kids, when we were different people. I didn’t have to be able to touch myself (lmao) to feel you around.
And, I don’t know, I guess I thought—granted, like an idiot—that things would be different. Death doesn’t take the hope away, either. Which sucks ass. I wish it did.
“We’re approaching Cyprus-b,” is all you said, and then I heard the door close.
The massager slid off my head, landing back on the bed with a little thump. I felt every bit of it, and the silence after.
I’ve got a sewn-up hole in my chest and that—the little click of the door latch—made me feel emptier than the memory of my shitty, beating heart.
next
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666writingcafe · 3 months ago
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Mammon's Greatest Fear
Author's Note: First of all, I'd like to apologize for not writing this sooner. Work and life in general has taken up a lot of my energy, and I want to make sure I'm delivering the quality you all are used to seeing from me.
Secondly, I wanted to flesh out the reason why MC goes on these mind trips with the NB!Demon brothers, because canonically it's a bit vague (in my opinion, anyway). Basically, I'm taking the original boogeyman scene in OG!Obey Me and adding more substance to it.
MC
I wake up in a brightly lit forest, confused as to how I've arrived here. The last thing I remember was...
Lunging at Lucifer.
Shit.
I'm sure he'll make me pay for it when I see him again.
If I see him again.
I have to figure out how to get out of here before I can even think about visiting Lucifer.
"Oh good! You're here!" My eyes soon meet those of a rather familiar-looking Little D.
"Number 2?" I ask, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
"The very same!" the yellow Little D exclaims. "Mister Barbatos wasn't sure that this would work, so he'll be glad to hear that everything's going according to plan!"
"You'll have to forgive me, but I have no idea what's going on." Number Two clasps his hands together.
"That's right; you were in lala land when the discussion happened."
"Forcibly, but yes."
"So, here's the short and sweet version: Mister Barbatos believes that Mammon's fear is makin' his sin go into hyper-overdrive, and since it seems to be affecting you as well, he's havin' me serve as a bridge between the two of you." Number Two closes his eyes as he recounts Barbatos' message, clearly making sure he's saying everything he needs to.
If I recall correctly, while there are lots of Little D's that have spawned as a result of the brothers succumbing to their sin, the original set--Numbers One through Seven--live at the castle.
And if they're the originals, then it's probably safe to assume they have the strongest mental connection to the brothers out of all the Little D's in existence.
Which means...
"We're inside Mammon's mind, aren't we?"
"Ding-ding-ding! Solomon said you'd pick up on it quickly. Now we just need to find Mammon and get him to snap out of it so that everything can return to normal!" Sighing, I get up and stretch. This certainly wasn't on my to-do list today, but if it'll help us quit feeling this way...
Number Two jumps up, forcing me to catch him and carry him in my arms as I begin walking.
"Am I allowed to ask you for some insight into Mammon's psyche, or am I supposed to figure everything out myself?" I ask.
"You know some things already," Number Two answers. "For example, this place should be very familiar to you." Taking a better look at my surroundings proves the Little D. correct.
We're traversing through part of the Celestial Realm's forest.
And just like that, everything clicks into place.
I ran. I don’t know for how long, but eventually I wound up deep in the woods, my lungs about to burst. I nearly collapsed against one of the trees as I began sobbing. I didn’t know what else to do.
If Lucifer didn't find him, Mammon would most likely still be in the woods, lamenting the loss of everything.
As it is, those few moments are some of the lowest points in his life. Not knowing if you belonged anywhere or if anyone gave a damn about your well-being...
I suddenly bump into something solid, nearly dropping Number Two. When I regain composure, however, nothing appears to be blocking my way.
"One of his walls," Number Two casually comments. "He must be close." Sure enough, just a few feet away sits Mammon at the base of a tree, sobbing his eyes out as dark wisps of smoke encircle him. The longer they swirl around him, the more upset he becomes.
"He can't see or hear anything past the barrier." Number Two's voice has become a lot deeper. "Unless you break it, there's nothing you can do to save him." His eyes darken, quickly matching the wisps of smoke. The next words to leave his mouth aren't his own.
Go crawl in a hole and die.
That's the first thing I heard Levi tell Mammon all those years ago at the start of the exchange program. As Number Two continues talking, it quickly becomes apparent that he's become a mouthpiece for the wisps of smoke, who are repeating every nasty thing that has been said to and about him.
Do I believe that he allows his sin to control his actions more often than he should? Yes. Does he come across as a self-absorbed douche-bag most of the time? Again, yes.
If I didn’t act this way, then people wouldn’t take me seriously. They’d abandon me.
It's a vicious cycle that I had to help Mammon slowly break in my timeline, but the wounds he's developed from it are still fresh here, making the cycle's grip that much stronger on him.
There has to be a way to get past this barrier. Tapping for weak points doesn't work. Must have some pretty strong magic keeping it together.
But is it stronger than mine?
Only one way to find out.
"Number Two, I don't know if you can hear me, but if you're able to choose what to repeat, find the most vile statements and hit me with them. If my voice is saying any of them, all the better."
My power is heavily tied to my emotions. The quickest way to tap into its full potential is to rile me up and make me lash out. Solomon and Asmo exploited this side of my magic once, but now I get to use it for my own benefit.
Hopefully.
Because otherwise, I have no idea how to get Mammon out of here.
~~~
I find myself flying upright, struggling to catch my breath. A sudden dizzy spell threatens to have me fall right back down again.
"Steady." A hand latches onto my arm, preventing me from tumbling off the bed.
"Open." I follow the voice's command, a warm liquid soon hitting the back of my throat. Tastes slightly better than cough syrup, but I can't complain too much, as it quickly helps me feel less disoriented.
"Better?" I nod my head. Glancing over to my right reveals Mammon in a similar position to mine.
"Did it work?" I ask, my voice sounding incredibly croaky.
"Hell yeah, it did!" Number Two excitedly pipes up. "You shattered that barrier into a million pieces! It was awesome!"
"So, Mammon's okay now?"
"He wouldn't have been able to wake up if he wasn't," Barbatos answers. He must have gave me the potion that kept me from fainting just now. "And neither would you. Still, I recommend that both of you take it easy for a couple of days to ensure a full recovery from the mind trip you went on."
"I'm sure it won't be the last one I go on." Barbatos wearily smiles.
"Don't worry about that right now. Focus on resting."
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy
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redwinetalks · 10 months ago
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I Won’t Let You Sink
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Chapter 2
(Previous Chapter)
Word Count: 6.1k
Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC
Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff kinda, protective Finnick, the Capitol sells them unfortunately, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov, Silk doesn’t understand that’s she’s crushing on Finnick,
Summary: Silk is back a the Capitol and she’s in for a rough night! She’s real stressed and Finnick tries to comfort her teehee.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Silk ~
Only a few weeks have passed and I find myself back at the Capitol. It feels too soon. Like the days sped up so I couldn’t even try to feel the happiness I found back at home. I only was given a few days before any thought of peace was stripped away from my arms.
I feel greatly exposed while standing on the small platform in the middle of a room filled with mirrors. Everyone who’s here to help make me “beautiful” is just staring at me. I wish I could sink through the floor.
My stylist, Bijou, is filled with much more excitement than I am as she rips the last wax strip off my leg. I purse my lips at the pain.
“Last one! Now you’re all silky smooth. Just like your name!” She smiles widely and laughs at her unoriginal pun. I try to smile back at her but I can only muster up a slight twitch of my lips. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Now, you’re going to get your makeup and hair done, then you can just step into your dress! Oh, you’re going to love it! I worked extra hard on this one. I have to make you even more eye catching.”
Bijou has always been very kind just maybe a bit oblivious. She probably doesn’t even know why I’m supposed to stand out more than usual tonight. I wonder if she’d be sick to her stomach like I am if she knew what was happening. But maybe she does know, and that makes it even more gut wrenching.
She continues her rambling while the makeup teams tries to bring back the life drained from my face.
“You know, I’ve always liked District 8. I mean, yes it is very dreary, but your people created the beautiful fabric used to make the dress! And the clothes you all wear look so bright and colorful. It’s such a shame the place has to look so drab.” Her words actually cause me to let out a small laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak nicely about 8, especially in the Capitol.
“Thank you, Bijou. That’s very kind.” She smiles widely again and I notice the little jewels on her canines. The people here seem to want to bejewel everything.
I can tell that the purpose of my makeup was to makeup me look more innocent. They used an excessive amount of blush and made my lips look quite pouty. They straightened my hair and curled it just slightly at the ends. A few strands are tied up in the back with a delicate bow. If I didn’t know the purpose of this look was to make me have more “doll like” features, maybe I would like it. But I’m just thinking of the sick creatures who desire me looking like this.
Bijou leads me back to the small platform to put on my dress. She was right, the fabric is beautiful. The light pink dress has a corset bodice adorned with pearls and floral lace skirt that goes to my ankles. It leaves my shoulders exposed which must be why the makeup team made them look so shiny.
I wonder if they were asked to make me look specifically like this, as if by request. Am I wanted to be in pink because it’s someone’s favorite color? Are my lips supposed to look this pouty so they can seem more irresistible? These thoughts fill me with a sickening feeling of dread. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again without wondering what predatory thoughts fill those who see me. Is this how I’ve always been thought of? Someone who can be easily taken advantage of and damaged?
“Darling? Come now.” I quickly turn to Bijou as she takes my hand. “You have a short meeting with Snow before you go to the party.” I look at her with a panicked expression. I didn’t know I was to be meeting with him. “Oh don’t look so nervous! He’s only a little intimidating.” She giggles and leads me out the room.
I walk a few steps behind her, my uneasiness slowing down my pace. I know he’ll probably only give me more information about tonight, but that thought does nothing to ease my anxiety. The corset doesn’t help either.
The walk to wherever we’re meeting is incredibly daunting. Part of me hopes the walk never ends, but the other part can’t wait to get this over with. It’s not even like I’ll be filled with relief once I’m done talking with Snow. I’ll immediately have another thing to worry about. It’s an endless cycle of horrors.
“Here we are!” Bijou stops and opens a door. I struggle to make myself move. “Darling?” She looks at me with her cheery face, but there’s a hint of confusion.
“Sorry, I…” I trail off. She doesn’t understand and I can’t explain it to her. There is no one here that I can express my true feelings to. There is no one to comfort me. I just have to push through on my own.
Apprehensively, I walk through the doorway and there he is. He sits in a large, dark leather chair with his back facing me. Drink in hand, his arm drapes off the armrest and on the floor I can see his foot tapping. Not impatiently, but as if he’s counting the tempo of a song stuck in his head.
The room isn’t at all inviting. What I’ve seen from the Capitol’s style so far has been over the top and extravagant, but this is much different. Everything seems to be curated to Snow’s image, very poised and crisp. He is tasteful, not at all gaudy, and it makes everything intimidating.
Unlike the beginning of his first visit, he isn’t ushering me to sit. He’s letting me take my time to walk around to the chair directly across from him. It feels like I’m walking to my death and the fearfulness radiating off my body is adding to his entertainment. I try to look more composed and unbothered by his presence, but I know it falls flat. He can see me inside and out. I am wrapped around his finger and it’s agonizing.
“Miss Fabelle, you look lovely. Thank you for meeting with me to discuss tonight’s events.” He gives me a small, cunning smile as I sit. He gestures to an envelope on the small table beside my chair. “That, my dear, contains all the details you will need. You are to be on your best behavior and arrive to your room at your scheduled time.” I tensely nod at him. He looks directly into my eyes and I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to talk back to him. It won’t do me any good. Snow does a good job at staying calm and collected, but it’s not hard to see the true evil that’s inside him. He is successfully sucking the life from me.
“Yes, sir.” He stands and then walks to the window behind me. I shut my eyes and put my hand on my chest to try and calm my breathing. The smell of roses fills my senses.
“That’ll be all, Miss Fabelle. I do hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities, but remember dear girl, you are here on business. This party isn’t for your entertainment.” I stand and nervously straighten out my dress.
“Yes, President Snow. I understand.” And I am thankfully dismissed from this suffocating room, on to the next horror.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Finnick ~
The amount of linen my stylist chose to put me in isn’t at all ideal considering the weather. It’s still a bit chilly out and the thin cloth makes me feel practically naked, well that and the fact that my shirt is barely even buttoned.
It’s only been an hour and I’m already fed up with the amount of women that have all but drooled on me. Women that are probably ten or twenty years older than me. It will never not be completely disgust me, the Capitol’s obsession with teenagers that have been forced to murder. Getting aroused by that is fucking psychotic.
“Finnick! It is such a pleasure to see you again.” A woman I faintly remember from one of the last parties walks towards me. Her bright orange feather dress is practically blinding.
“The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” I wink and kiss her hand. I’d say she’s blushing but it could just be all of the makeup she’s wearing.
“You’re always so charming. I can’t wait to see how you’ll charm me later tonight.” She whispers in my ear and then gives it a swift lick. Her boldness almost makes me jump back. I could gag, but then I’d ruin the facade.
“C’mon now, don’t get me all riled up here.” I whisper back, thankful she can’t see my face. I know the look in my eyes isn’t at all believable. “Save it for later.” I smirk at her before walking away.
I walk towards a table of drinks and finger foods. I’m gonna need to down a bottle of something to get through his night. I see her as she goes to grab a glass of wine at the opposite end of the table. Silk. Wine seems to be her drink of choice. She almost goes for the red, but pauses and then reaches for the rosé. Probably a wise decision considering the color of her dress. The pink really looks stunning on her.
I didn’t expect to see her again so soon, but there she is. They didn’t even give her time to get her bearings before dragging her back over here. She looks like she’s glowing. I’m sure part of that effect is from her stylist, but not all of it. There’s something about her that makes her shine. In a way that’s soft and ethereal, like moonlight. If she is the moon, Silk pulls me into her world like the tides. And I go willingly.
I’m not sure what it was, but when I first saw her I felt immediately drawn in. When she was standing away from the crowd, finally getting away from the vultures, I felt like I had to meet her. It could’ve been my only chance. And she was nothing if not astonishing. I didn’t have enough time with her. I was left wanting more, but there was nothing I could do since I had other obligations. I’m not as busy tonight which is a relief. I may have more time to get to know her.
I walk towards her, looking around to make sure no one is itching for my attention.
“Hello again, Silk Fabelle.” She flinches, not unlike when I first met her, but it’s even more noticeable this time. “You know, I really don’t mean to startle you with every greeting.” I laugh but her expression doesn’t change a bit.
“It’s fine.” Something is off. The air around her is different.
“What’s going on, doll face?” She looks at me and glares. Shit. Why did I say that? Of course calling her by what the Capitol has deemed her as would be triggering. I wish I would think before I fucking speak. She has a way of making me so nervous, something others can’t do so easily. I’m usually more grounded. I’ve gotten so good at this confident facade of flirtations that it’s almost as easy as breathing. But with her…I feel it melting away. Like I’m having to relearn how to communicate.
“Don’t call me that.” She turns away from me and looks at her glass. I swear I can see tears brimming her eyes.
“I..I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known not to.” She doesn’t look back up at me. I reach out my hand to her arms and she backs away slightly.
“What do you want, Finnick?” Her tone isn’t malicious, it sounds defeated. When she finally looks back up at me I can almost feel my heart breaking. She looks so empty.
“I just…are you okay?” And then it hits me. They’ve started selling her. But It isn’t her time to start. It can’t be. She just finished the games, they can’t be moving this fast with her.
“Just trying to make it through the night.” She gives me a pitiful smile. “You should go enjoy it while you can.” She starts to walk away, but I can’t let her leave yet.
“Silk, please.” She stops and turns back towards me. I wish I could embrace her and tell her it’ll be okay. But I can’t and it won’t. There’s nothing I can do to stop what Snow has planned for her.
“I’ve got places to be, Finnick. People to meet. Maybe another time we can finally have a full conversation.” Sorrow fills her voice. I watch her walk away and the pull that I feel from her just gets stronger. I want to be wrong. I wish that she could just be left alone, but I know how her night will go. I know that in the next few hours she will have yet another trauma. Another nightmare that will wake her in the night. But I refuse to let her suffer alone.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Silk ~
The man that bought my time for the night finally leaves and I’m left on the bed, still face down. Maybe if I lay here long enough I can melt away. I could just become a decayed mess that was left here to rot. My skin burns and I can feel the tears trickle across my face and onto the bedspread. I finally sit up to cover myself with the sheets and make my way the bathroom. I only make it two steps before my legs give out on me and I drop to the ground. I just continue with a slow, pathetic crawl. I can’t imagine what I look like, but the thought is enough to make me vomit once I reach the toilet. Once I finish I continue to sit there and let go of the sobs that I was holding in. I want to scream until my throat turns raw and bleed, but I have to suck it all up. The punishment that my mom would have to pay the price for constantly floats around in my thoughts. It torments me.
I finally try to stand up and I brace myself against the counter. I stare just below the mirror for what feels like hours until I shakily raise my head to look at myself. I don’t even know who is staring back at me. She’s looks broken and filled with dread. I see only a shell of a human being. I feel so infuriated with what she has just gone through. What she has been going through. Before I realize, I grab a candle that was sitting on the counter and throw it at the mirror. My hands are shaking as the shattered glass falls into the sink. If only that had helped release some of my built up tension. All I can do is stand there and look at the mess.
I’m startled by the door to my room opening and I wrap myself tighter in the sheet. An avox enters to fix up the bed, but she notices me cowering in the bathroom doorway. She looks at the broken glass and doesn’t seem phased at all. I feel guilty for her having to clean it up, but hopefully she can forgive me all things considered.
She stands just outside the bathroom door once she’s done making up the bed. As if she’s ushering me to leave so she can start clearing away my breakdown. I hesitantly walk past her back into the bedroom. I see a change of clothes on the dresser for me and since she’s shut away in the bathroom I go ahead and put them on.
I don’t think I can lay again in that bed, let alone sleep in it, so I just sit down on the floor by the loveseat. I feel quite pathetic. I feel angry. I feel like I could burst at the seams, just like my dress did. I wonder how Bijou would feel knowing the dress she worked so hard to make is now ripped up on the floor.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about the mirror that I shattered. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone or anything here. I don’t fucking care.” The saliva built up from my tears and sick spit out slightly as I whisper angrily to myself. Without realizing, I’m also sinking my nails into my shoulders while holding myself. I’ve grown to do that a lot now. Mostly when my anger and sadness builds up. The sight of me is a disgusting mess, I’m sure of it. I didn’t used to feel this weak and despondent. I used to be confident and full of so much life. I was passionate about caring for my district, but I tried to always remain positive. I tried to stay hopeful. But I’m scared that’s all gone. That I’ve lost who I was and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find her again. She has sunken into the abyss and there is no one to bring her back to the surface.
The avox walks out of the bathroom finally and looks at me on the floor. She looks like she has a some pity in her eyes, but it quickly fades away when she turns to leave the room. As she opens the door I can see a figure standing in the hall. Is there going to be someone else? Am I not done? My nails sink farther further into shoulders and I stare into the hallway, not even trying to hide the panic in my eyes.
The avox walks away and I can see that it isn’t someone here to use me, it’s Finnick. But why is Finnick here? How does he even know that I’m here. I know I didn’t even try to hide my misery, but how did he find me?
“Silk..?” He looks at me with that familiar softness in his green eyes. “Is it okay if I come in” he speaks in a whisper.
“How’d you know I was in here?” I say quickly as if I’m accusing him of something.
“I bribed an avox into pointing me to your room.” I can tell he was about to use his suave way of speaking to lighten the mood, but it isn’t the time. He knows to be serious.
“Why?” I say so plainly. He doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t know me. There isn’t anything to gain from being here. But he looks at me with hurt, but it’s hurt for me. Is it so insane to wonder why anyone would want to be here with me right now?
“Because, I know what happened here. And I said I didn’t want you to have to go through this alone. I meant that. Especially with this.” And the sadness in his eyes is back. The same look from when we met. The illusion has faded and I can see that this is what is causing him to sink. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he is going through this too, I just didn’t think about how many others Snow is forcing to sell their bodies.
I nod at him and move over on the floor, allowing him to come in. He sighs and smiles sadly at me but I look down and continue to hold onto myself. Like I’m scared I’ll float away. He walks in slowly to not cause any sudden stress and then sits next to me. I move over a bit more. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, but I’m scared to be close to him. I’m scared to be close to anyone. Just him knowing what happened in here is terrifying to me. What if this gets me in trouble? What if it leads back to Snow?
“How…how are you doing?” I huff out a laugh. Like the audacity of the question makes it humorous.
“Fucking fantastic.” I then turn to look at and I know he sees the anger in my face. His entire demeanor shifts from worry to guilt.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-“
“I know.” I cut him off, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” I look back at him and wish he could just read my mind. The words feel too difficult to say. “It’s just…” I hesitate, trying not to start crying. “…they took my girlhood…that was mine. No one is supposed to just take that from you. But they snatched it up with no remorse. I thought that I’d get to go home. That when I won, I’d get to go home and be with my mom and live my life. I knew I’d still have to relive the pain again every year when mentoring. I knew I would have guilt and nightmares and all of these horrible memories, but I’d at least be home. But I can never go back home. I am trapped in this hell forever.” I no longer try to stop my tears from falling. My shoulders ache from me grasping on for dear life. It’s all too much and I hate it.
“Silk” he tries to calm me. He tries to move my arms.
“Don’t touch me.” I snap at him. I don’t mean to, it just comes out and he immediately withdraws himself.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Just, please, you’re hurting yourself.” I shakily remove my hands from my shoulders and instead mess with the hem of my shirt. I try to tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t speak. I want his comfort but I’m too panicked. My breathing is rapid and he can tell. He shifts just slightly closer, but he’s cautious to not get too close.
“Hey, just look at me. You’re safe. You’re okay, I’m with you. No one else is coming through that door. Just keep looking at me and follow my breathing.” He takes deep breaths in and out and I try to follow. It’s shaky, but my breathing calms down. I keep looking at him and try to ground myself. “That’s good. You’re okay, yeah?” He gives me a small, reassuring smile and I nod. I timidly reach out my hand. I want to touch him. To feel that he is real. He reaches back to hold my hand, but not before intently looking at me to get the okay. His thumb rubs my palm at the pace that he was using to calm my breaths. I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”
I nod and stand up, still holding his hand. His other hand is ready to help if I stumble. When we walk into the bathroom he lets out a small laugh.
“Oh, yeah...I broke the mirror.”
“I can see that. Good work.” He looks at me and smiles. He inspects to counter to make sure there’s no leftover glass, and then helps me up to sit. He grabs two washcloths, one for my face and one for my arms, and runs them under warm water. He hands one to me and I start cleaning up as much of the makeup and dried tears as I can while he tends to my shoulders. The focus that Finnick puts into cleaning my small cuts is so caring and gentle. I can’t help but look at him. He looks so concentrated and beautiful. Like he was carved out of marble, and then I see his dimples forming from the smirk he’s giving me.
“Like what you see?” I roll my eyes and turn my face away from his.
“You’re annoying” His face looks dramatically hurt and shocked.
“You’ve wounded me. I’m heartbroken.” I can’t help my lips from twitching. “There’s that smile, pretty girl.” I turn my head back to face him and sigh. He is so unusual to me. There is so much more to him than what meets the eye. His cockiness and flirtatious spirit is just one of playful banter. It’s not who he truly is. It’s his cover for the Capitolite, but besides that it’s just to amuse. To lighten the mood. The real Finnick is much more complicated and I’m so compelled to uncover his true character.
“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me.” He rolls his eyes.
“Why do you keep asking me that?” He laughs lightly and I shrug.
“I just don’t understand. You just met me yet you keep being so kind to me. You keep going out of your way and there is nothing to gain.” He sighs and looks down at the washcloth in his hand.
“Remember when you helped that kid in the arena? That girl from 2 got his leg pretty good with a spear and you could’ve just left him there. Let someone else find him. But you helped him up, led him to a place where he could hide, and tried your best to clean up his wound. You even gave him some of your food before you left. You didn’t know him. You had nothing to gain from that, but you did it anyway.” I remember him. He was so small. I didn’t want to help him, I wanted to ignore everything around me. I wanted to shut off my emotions, but he was just a little boy. He didn’t deserve to be left in mud, waiting for someone to kill him. And I knew that if I saw his picture at night, it would’ve been my fault. That wouldn’t have been survival. That would’ve been inhumane.
“He was from 4. He was yours.”
“Yeah..he was a good kid. You didn’t treat him like a tribute you had to kill, you treated him like a person. He was able to survive longer because of you. Your kindness, it meant something to me.” I look down at my hands. I don’t even know if that was kindness. I did it to save myself from the guilt. But, I guess sometimes that’s what kindness is. Maybe that’s why Finnick is here tonight.
“I guess I’ve been having a hard time trusting people’s motives.”
“For good reason.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Come on pretty girl, let’s run you a hot shower.” He holds my hand as I hop off the counter and then goes to start the water. He holds his hand under it to feel for the perfect temperature. He decides everything is ready and steps towards the door. At first, him caring for me made me feel a bit uneasy, but I guess it’s not too much. It is better than doing this all alone.
“Alright, I’ll be just outside if that’s okay. I don’t have to stay, though.” His sweet green eyes look into mine. I can tell he wants to, like he wants to protect me.
“You can. I think..that’d be nice.”
The warm water washes over me and I run my hands through my hair. I wish I could easily scrub away the events of today. The most I can do is scrub away the feeling of disgust. I guess this is supposed to be my future routine. Every few months I go up to the Capitol for a day or two, go through hell, then go home. I’m sure that’s how they think of it. So simple. I can easily get over it. How is someone supposed to get over having their body taken advantage of? They’re not, but I’m not thought of an actual person here. Just a toy.
This is happening to Finnick too. He said he knew what happened. He knew how to calm me and what to do to help. This is all so hard to come to terms with. Finnick won three years ago at just fourteen. Did Snow make him start immediately, like me? If so, he’s been doing this for so long already. All on his own. No one to soothe him after the torture. How is he still standing? Has he become numb to it? That thought doesn’t make it any better.
From how I have felt tonight, I cannot imagine what Finnick felt his first night. Fourteen years old and left to suffer in silence. I can only hope that they weren’t so horrible to him that young.
I could have stayed in that shower for hours and still wouldn’t have felt completely clean. I dry myself off and I’m relieved I can barely see what I look like because of the broken mirror. I don’t know how I’d feel seeing myself naked right now, but I know it wouldn’t be positive. It’d probably set me off again.
When I’m finished getting dressed I walk back into the bedroom. I see Finnick waiting patiently on the loveseat and he smiles when he sees me. He has such a beautiful smile. His dimples and the creases near his eyes make him look so warm and inviting. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, keeping some space between us. I think I’m beginning to trust him, but he still makes me nervous. That feeling I don’t quite understand. It’s not necessarily negative, it’s just…different.
“Feeling a bit better?” I nod and wrap my arms around my legs, giving myself a sense of security. The worst of the night is over, but it’s hard to feel at ease.
“I think so. Thank you, by the way. For being here and being patient.”
“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”
“Maybe, but I want to. Your kindness means something to me.” I smile softly and he looks down at his hands, blushing slightly. I feel like I can see him more clearly. Like I’ve uncovered a portion of his mystery. So much has happened to him tonight too, but I haven’t seen him upset. Like he holds it in. Like he wants to care for everyone else first.
“Finnick?” He hums in response immediately. Ready to help in any way I’d need, but I don’t need anything from him right now. I just want him to know I would do for him what he has done for me. “How are you feeling?” He shakes his head, brushing me off.
“I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiles, but I know this one isn’t as genuine. He is hiding his pain and my heart aches for him.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but just like you have worried over me, I am going to worry over you.” He turns his head to the side, looking out the window at the city below us. He stays that way for a minute and I give him his time.
“They were quick with you. They didn’t give you any time to settle. They didn’t start immediately with me. At least not like this. They gave me the illusion of peace. I would come to Capitol parties every few months or so. Get dragged around by different women, but just to talk. Every now and then someone would touch my arms or my chest while flirting, but that was it. When I turned fifteen, things started to slowly escalate. It was secretive, but I’d be taken to backrooms for quick sessions. Nothing below the belt, but then I turned sixteen.” He takes a breath, somewhat shaky. He still isn’t looking at me, but I haven’t taken my eyes off of him. “Nothing was off the table. They could do whatever they wanted and I had to go along with it. And Snow would make sure of it.” I look at him sadly. I know how he was threatened. How he didn’t actually have a choice. He takes another deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He’s looking at me now. His eyes are just slightly red. Like he is holding back tears that he refuses to let fall. “Every time I go back home I spend the entire day at the beach. I ignore everyone else and just swim as if I could swim away from this. It’s the only place I can let go. To try and distract myself from what happens here.”
“Tell me about it. The beach, the water.” He tilts his head, but I see his lip twitch slightly. It’s like just the thought of the ocean can bring him some ease. “There’s a place just past the border in 8 that I go to get away from everything. There’s a very small, rocky beach, but the water is too polluted from the factories. All I can do is listen to the waves, but it’s my favorite thing to do. Ever since I found that spot I wanted to know what a real ocean is like. How the water feels on your skin. What it sounds like washing up against sand.” He looks into my eyes and smiles, no longer trying to suppress it.
“It’s my favorite place in the world. Every morning that I can, I start by running to the beach and immediately jumping in the water. It’s so cold when it’s early, the sun is barely even up, but it’s breathtaking. You feel the coolness against your skin, flowing with you as you move. You can taste the salt in the air when you go above to breathe. It’s a feeling of freedom that you can’t feel anywhere else. When the breeze hits your body as you get out of the water. It’s unlike anything you could imagine. It’s hypnotizing.” He looks so captivated by his thoughts. Like he’s been taken to another world. I don’t know if I have anything like that. Something that can bring me so much peace and happiness.
“I hope I can experience that someday” Now it’s me turning to look outside. The hope that I feel is so strong. The hope that one day things can be good. That this world will no longer be suffocating and terrifying.
“Maybe one day you can.” I turn back to him and he’s looking into my eyes so earnestly. There’s a warmth that I feel from him. He thinks the same thing that I do. That strong feeling of hope is what can keep us going.
I keep trying not to fall asleep, but my eyelids have become so heavy. Thankfully, my conversations with Finnick have distracted me enough that I can feel somewhat relaxed. But I can’t get back in that bed. I can’t sleep there.
“I’ll grab some blankets.” He gets up to start turning the loveseat into my bed for the night.
“I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to sleep. I’m sure the second I’m alone with my thoughts I’ll be too anxious to.” I let out a nervous laugh.
“I can stay if that’d be okay. If it would help.” I watch him walk back over to me. The moonlight from outside glows on his tan skin as he stands near me. His golden blonde waves have gotten messier throughout the night, but he still looks perfect.
“You don’t have to do that. I mean, where would you sleep? Unless you’re okay with the bed.”
“I’m fine on the floor. And then, if you need anything…I’m right there.” He says that so casually as puts the blanket over the cushions, but I can see the slight tint of pink sneaking up on his cheeks. I can feel my face heating up as well.
“You can’t sleep on the floor, Finnick.” I help tuck the blanket into one corner.
“Sure I can. I’ve slept on worse.” He shrugs. He’s not wrong and I can say the same, but still. Am I even sure I want him to stay? My thoughts are quick to say yes, the night with him has been lovely, but what if that got back to Snow? Does that actually matter? I was never told I couldn’t develop a friendship with other victors. However, something tells me that whatever happiness I find here will be stolen away from me.
“It’s up to you. If you’re fine with the floor I’m fine with you staying.” He grins so sweetly. I can tell he doesn’t want to be alone either.
I lay on the loveseat, facing Finnick as he lays on the floor. We both talk about home, learning about each other’s district as we grow more and more tired. When I finally fall asleep, my arm is draped over the cushion and I swear I can feel the touch of Finnick’s fingers lightly on mine. As if he’s reaching up to tell me he’s not going anywhere. His protective touch saves me from any nightmares that dare to enter my mind.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
Thank you so much for reading! You all were so nice with my first chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3
Tag list <3 (I again tagged some people who liked the related posts. Hope that’s okay!!)
@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @gremlin515 @bruuhky @0ceanautical @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @readawaythereality2
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kathaynesart · 1 year ago
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After seeing Ron Circilo’s confirmation that F!Leo did have mystic powers, I can safely say that I actually prefer the fan canon that he didn’t, least not when the prologue happened. Makes Leo cooler knowing he still leas the resistance and fought back the Kraang without any magic whatsoever. Just his training, strategic skills, and intelligence to keep him pushing to the next day and so on, and his teammates and family to help support(as long as they could). Just feels cooler. Your thoughts?
Well, first off, I must say that I have nothing but the utmost respect for Ron Circilo and the Rise team in what they were able to accomplish! The fact that he was willing to come online and answer all of our unending questions was such a gift and a true act of kindness on his part. One that is deserving of our respect and gratitude.
It is amazing how much the little bits of knowledge have invigorated so many within the fandom, myself included! With this in mind, it is not my place or intention to disregard anything he has stated in these answers. For the most part I found everything he said to be insightful and very much in line with the impression given by both the show and movie. (My particular favorite being that future Mikey is physically in his 70's due to the use of his powers. I am very happy that Replica is already slated to be going in that direction.)
The answer in regards to Leo's mystic powers, I will admit, is probably one of the few answers I personally interpreted differently from the opening scene of the film. Even so, I think it's more important to take into account that projects such as the Rise Movie involve a lot of people and writers with differing opinions and thoughts (for example I heard many while interning on AtLA). So at points like this I can only shrug and say that whatever isn't stated outright within the final source material, is still open to interpretation. It's just nice to be given some insight on what could have been!
Just know that I will continue with what I had planned for Replica, in which Leo does not have his mystic abilities. For me this will play a key role in his character growth (many of which you mentioned in your question) and also explain a number of issues the opening film would otherwise face.
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