#before you find one of Prince's energy bolts in your face | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelsimp97 · 2 years ago

Text

The Broken Princess (Loki x Reader) Part Two

Summary: Reader is a princess of a kingdom with a culture where women sit at home, cook and keep being pretty. She was never like that no matter how much her mother wanted her to be like that. However she gets engaged with the Asgardian prince, Loki. They don't like to be forced into it but not for the same reason.

Word count: 3120

Warning: angst

The sun shone brightly through the windows of your chambers waking you gently from your sleepless slumber. You blinked a few times to get rid of the sleepiness as you yawned and stretched in bed. You got out of bed and was soon joined by maids who helped you bath, made your hair and put you into a nice gown before escorting you to the dining hall for breakfast.

You were left alone after you reached the large doors and you were slightly terrified of pushing in those doors. However, you eventually did and was greeted by the loud chattering of nobles around the long table. You soon spotted your seat on Thor's side across from Loki. As you approached the chair you kept your head down but Thor noticed you anyway. The blonde man jumped up from his seat and pulled out yours greeting you with a large grin on his face almost as bright as the sun. You smiled back politely and took your seat feeling Loki's gaze on you. You looked at him but he looked away his face cold and hard. You sighed defeated but was soon engaged in a conversation with Queen Frigga. You happily answered her questions and agreed to join her in the library afternoon to teach children of the palace learn how to read.

Time skip~

Days even weeks passed since you arrived to Asgard but you felt at home. You quickly got used to your duties as a princess. Back at your home you were expected to sit at home and do nothing while here Frigga brought you to charity events, balls, tea parties with other noble ladies. These tea parties were held in the garden and they were not small tea parties. Frigga invited every noble lady and princesses or even queens from other realms. For a few times some of the princesses asked you what it was like to be soon added to the royal family. Some of them even showed you their distaste and expressed that you weren't fitted for the role.

Your mother was good in one thing which she taught you during the years. You could easily talk back to these uppish princesses with polite words and smiles. But even if you were to bicker with a few of them you met kind young ladies around your age who looked up to you and liked your company. There was Lielia, with her deep brown eyes and copper curly locks, freckles sprayed over her cheeks, who was one of your favorite. She was kind and bubbly always spilling tea over the tables or the blanket around her. Your other friend only joined the tea party on your fourth or fifth time being present. Yuna was quite shy and you and Lielia were doing the talking most of the time but she listened eagerly. She blushed quite a lot when you or Lielia would make her uncomfortable with your attentions pointed at her directly but it was cute. You almost forgot why were you really here in Asgard. Almost.

You couldn't sleep tonight somehow. It was a long and tiring day but exactly because the pent up energy you couldn't relax. You got out of bed and tried to find out what you could do with yourself pacing around in your chambers when an idea lit up your mind. Your lips pulled into a smile and you bolted out of your chambers towards the library. The corridors and palace walls echoed your bare-feeted tapping on the marble flooring as you ran. You stopped in front of the large library doors and tried to calm yourself a little before you slipped in between the heavy pieces of wood. You looked around in the dimly lit place but saw no one. You walked up to the shelves trying to find something that would entertain your mind. Frigga wanted you to occupy a smaller group of the children so the two of you could be more effective and you wanted to prepare for that lesson with something interesting. You figured knowing yourself that boring history books wouldn't make them enjoy what they were learning. Adventure stories would do it more so. You pulled off a few books before you put them back. You searched like this quietly for a half-an-hour when you finally found an interesting story about a small group of friends wandering through their kingdoms getting into exciting adventures. You were satisfied with what you found and went to read it quietly when you felt someone's presence behind you. You lifted your head slowly but not turning around expecting an attacker.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night, my dear bride?" asked a smooth, deep and enticing voice.

"What would I do in a library?" you sighed more relieved than sarcastic but you fortunately your tone didn't give you out. "Of course reading."

"So you know how to read... what a surprise." he mocked and you just rolled your eyes.

"If you would have given me a chance to get to know you better and inversely you would know that yes, I can." you replied. "Do not try to make me guilty for your predicament. Believe me, I tried everything too to get out of it. None of it worked."

"Did you?" Loki walked in front of you looking deep into your (e/c) eyes with his blue ones cold as ice. A shiver ran down your spine but you kept your gaze on his not wavering. "Were you not thrilled to get married into the Asgardian royal family? Were you not waiting to be respected? Were you not waiting for the power to fall into your hands finally?"

"Are you talking about yourself, Loki?" you scoffed. "If you would know the culture I came from you would know that I was raised to become an obedient little puppet. Maybe it didn't work... but I have no intention on grabbing any power."

"Are you hurt that I did not fall for you when I spotted you?" he asked smirking like he knew my little secret and I had to laugh at it.

"Do not believe me as arrogant as you are." you scoffed. "Would you please leave me alone? I have things to do."

"What can occupy a princess so much so that she stays up all night?" pondered Loki making your blood boil. You pulled the book close to your chest as you lifted your chin high.

"Good night, my prince." you turned around and decided to look for a quiet, comfy spot you could curl up and read peacefully. You soon found a cushioned sofa near the large window. The light of the moon lit up the small table in front of the sofa and the carpet. You skipped to the piece of furniture and sat down opening up the book.

"You must have a purpose to endure this deal..." said the dark prince of Asgard from next to you leaning back in his seat his arm resting over the back of the sofa. He startled you making you jump. You narrowed your eyes and saw his smirk when you turned to him irritated.

"Yes, I have." you replied angrily.

"And what is that?" he leaned closer to your face the tip of his nose almost touching yours.

"To make my family proud." you replied. "In our culture a princess holds no more purpose than to marry and give sons to their husband."

"Do you think we would have children?!" Loki leaned back laughing mirthfully. You sighed.

"If it depends on our families, yes we will." you replied. He stopped short surprised at how honest and defeated you sounded. He quirked an eyebrow.

"You really do not want to marry me?" he asked surprise showing on his features.

"I told your mother that I already tried to run away back in my home. I thought the news would reach you." you opened the book again which snapped closed when Loki startled you and tried to read. Silence sat upon you two as you read the first few pages. You didn't know what was Loki doing sitting there in silence while you read and you started feeling uncomfortable.

"I... am sorry." Loki said suddenly his voice quiet and apologetic as he stood up and left you alone disappearing between the book shelves. Your eyes widened in shock but you decided to keep reading until you would be too tired and would be able to sleep finally.

Time skip~

The morning sun shone brightly down at you in the library. You slowly cracked your eyes open and snuggled up into the blanket covering your form. Your (e/c) eyes snapped open in surprise as you jumped into a sitting position staring down at the light green blanket. You weren't bringing a blanket with you into the library last night. You didn't even want to fall asleep! You finished the book in two hours but after putting the book onto the table you couldn't remember anything.

You heard shuffling at the front desk of the library and you quickly jumped up. You grabbed the blanket and ran out of the place a stunned librarian looking after the Ädranäin princess with messy (h/c) hair and in her night gown barefeeted. You hurried through the corridors and halls, the servants and maids jumping out of your way startled by your look and hurry. The maids who were sent to dress you up and take care of you were at your door already and was knocking furiously their leader wearing an angry glare on her face. Some of them turned to the sound of your panting echoing off the walls their eyes widening at your sight. The maids ushered you inside and went to work immediately telling you to not run away or tell them to arrive later. You apologized and noted to ask Frigga or Thor how could you send a message to your maids.

When you were ready you were ushered into the dining hall for breakfast. Just like everytime you were almost the last to arrive but you got used to it. No one looked at you angrily or tried to lecture you for it. No one really cared. You landed on your seat with a huff and sighed.

"Are you alright, dear?" asked Frigga looking at you. Your eyes snapped to Loki for a second seeing the smirk on his thin lips. He was enjoying your distress.

"Yes, quite well." you beamed at her. "I just got caught up in a book in the library and fell asleep."

"Loki did that too when he was younger." smiled the queen back at you before her eyes went to her son with a sadness to them. "Now he rarely joins me."

"I will try to take some time off of my duties and join you for a cup of tea, alright?" Loki smiled back at Frigga and it wasn't a mischievous or evil one. It was genuinely loving.

"You could join Princess (Name) and me at the reading lessons for the children." she tried.

"You know how scared children are around me. I would not want to ruin the mood." replied the raven haired prince and looked at you. His eyes told you to protest with him and talk his mother down of these ideas.

"And what if they are interested in magic? You are one of the best sorcerers on Asgard so I have heard." you cut off a piece of omelet chewing it smiling at him innocently. His eyebrows furrowed and you had to keep yourself from giggling. Now he was getting back what he did to you last night.

"That is an excellent idea, (Name)!" beamed Frigga at you.

"But maybe next time." you shook your head. "I prepared for the children with something they would enjoy. Loki's magic would be more fascinating for them."

"Oh, what have you prepared?" changed subject the queen and you felt Loki's gaze linger on you. Your eyes snapped to his and you could read out his gratitude of his blue eyes. Your lips pulled into a tiny smile for a second as acknowledgement and continued listening to the queen.

Time passed by and you were already in the library reading with the children Frigga left with you. The sun was easing down towards the horizon on the sky when you were finished teaching the children for today. You felt exhausted but was happy. You never thought you would do something important and useful one day. The last children were filling out of the spot you were sitting and you got up picking up the books when one of them ran back to you.

The little girl with soft blonde hair and blue eyes pulled at your dress' skirt drawing your attention to her.

"I wanted to thank you, princess for teaching us! My mommy said I should say thank you in her name too." she said before whispering with a giggle. "Your husband is sitting behind those shelves. He was watching you the whole time!"

Your eyes snapped to the shelf where she was pointing and you saw a glimmer of gold and green magic as Loki disappeared. Your lips pulled into a smile as you crouched down to her level.

"You are welcome." you said. "And he is not yet my husband."

"All the boys are saying he is lucky to marry you. I think so too." she beamed up at you before she ran back to her friends at the entrance. You straightened back up and reached for the books.

"We are not yet married..." huffed your fiancée startling you. You turned around with furrowed eyebrows.

"Would you please, not scare me to death everytime we are in the same room?" you asked before you smiled up at Loki. "She is too young to understand the difference. When I was at her age, I just simply thought that people who were kissing or holding hands were married. It was a surprise for me when I first saw two men holding hands secretly. My mother was shocked that I have seen such a thing and forbid me from leaving the palace."

"Your mother seemed to be prudish." he mused walking up to you and picking up the books. Loki carried them back to their places even if you didn't tell him where you got them from. You wanted to facepalm at your own stupidity. He was at home, of course he knew where each book was from.

"She is much more than that..." you sighed. "You must have thought I am like her. That is why you thought I was trying to gain something out of our engagement, no?"

"Just partly, to be honest." he replied walking with you towards the entrance of the library. You wanted to pry farther but you decided against it. He seemed to not want to talk about it and you knew what reaction would you get if you did pry.

"I am glad that you are finally talking to me." you said. "I understand that I am a stranger to you. You are to me also. That is why I am asking only for friendship or at least for you to not despise me so much."

"I acted repulsive last night and I am sorry for that... but in the court... people get used to look behind their backs." Loki sighed.

"I know. I had to watch my back because of my mother." you added as you reached the garden. "About this morning... please, join your mother and I or at least your mother for a cup of tea one of these days. She misses you greatly."

"On the tea parties with the other noble ladies?" he scoffed. "Please, do not make me endure that chattering and gossiping."

"Indeed, it is annoying but no. I meant just us." you said.

"I will think it over." Loki sighed before the two of you were joined by a servant panting heavily because he was running.

"The king requests your presence, my prince." bowed the servant in front of Loki. You saw the irritation on the raven haired prince's face and you put a hand on his arm.

"I bet your mother will be thrilled if I tell her that you would join." you smiled making Loki chuckle before leaving you alone in the garden. You had a lot to think about and even if you were happy for how Loki's behavior changed toward you the doubt was there in the back of your mind. He didn't seem like the type who would change his moods that easily if it wasn't for a purpose. You wanted to trust him to be honest with you and you wanted to have a normal, friendly relationship with him. You would be forced to live your life with him to the rest of your days. You didn't need the fighting and bickering.

You went back to your chambers and occupied yourself with something until dinner which was soon to be started. You ate and conversed with the royal family and even managed to learn a few things about Sif and the Warrior Three who were around Thor. When you returned to your chambers for the night feeling exhausted your maids helped you get ready for bed. You waited for them to leave you alone before you went to the balcony. You loved to gaze out over the capital city which was at peace now that it was night time. You sometimes wished you could have as simple as a life as those people living down there happily with their family not forced into a marriage. They married to one they loved, had children with them and lived happily. Being a princess was something like living in a golden aviary. It was beautiful and shining but still was a cage keeping you in.

Your attention was snapped to a lonely rider in the night with long green cape, golden horned helmet on his head riding a black stallion towards the capital city's heart. You became curious to see Loki leave the palace in the night but you decided to not pry farther and went to sleep.

To be continued...

#loki x you #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #fluff #angst #romance #arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #angst with a happy ending #mutual pining

153 notes · View notes

sweetchup · 3 years ago

Text

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 6

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 3,000+

Masterlist

————————

Cold. That’s the only way you could describe the man in front of you.

Cold as in his eyes were like stone. As if they were dead as they stared down at you. Cold as in that you couldn’t read him, at all. Even as he was covered head to toe in blood, you had no clue what he would do next. Cold as in he was intimidating. Way too intimidating. Like a primal feeling in you was screaming danger at you. It made you want to bolt from the spot.

“Tch…” You instantly freeze as Poseidon finally lets out a sound. He glares down at you in disgust as if you were some dirt on his shoe, “My brother must be losing his mind.”

Scared, you let out a small gulp. Your throat all of sudden feels extremely dry. Brother? Was he perhaps referring to Zeus? So, that must mean this was Poseidon. Right…?

“S-So…” You pause for a moment as you decide if you should dare continue, “…Are you Poseidon?”

You shouldn’t have done that. With a loud bang, you slowly turn your head to look at the Trident he cleaved down in the sand next to you. Its harsh throw sending the sand beneath and surrounding you in the air in a huge rumble.

“Ack!” You spit out as Poseidon suddenly grabs your jaw while you are distracted. His harsh grip on you as he turned your face to look at him felt as if he was trying to crush the bone of your jaw underneath. Even though you knew it was useless, you squirm lightly underneath his grip in hopes to lessen his tight grip.

“Pathetic.” He spits out in a grumble as he watches you squirming. Letting out a small huff, he watches you for a couple of more seconds before finally releasing your jaw. A sore feeling begins to replace the pain you had previously felt. “Humans do not address a god by their name. Especially pathetic mortals such as yourself.”

You feel the need to flinch under his harsh words but thankfully stop yourself. Instead choosing to tighten your grip on Triton who still laid unconscious in your arms. You understood that what Poseidon said was partially true. A mortal such as yourself had no chance against a god, nevertheless one of his stature and power. But he still didn’t have to be so blunt about it. Even Zeus held some sort of common courtesy when interacting with you.

“Ugh…” Startled by the sound, you spin your head downwards to look at Triton who was letting out a loud groan. His face scrunched up in pain as he wiggled around in your hold to get up.

Instantly, you put your hand on Triton's chest to stop him. Worried with the amounts of cuts and blood he was covered in that he could possibly have a fatal injury, “Shh. Don’t move, Triton. It’s okay. I got you.”

Triton seems to thankfully listen to your words and stop moving, relaxing back into your arms. Instead using the energy he had left to open his eyes to look up at you. Though, as you stared down at him with concern, you could tell he couldn’t properly see you. His eyes shrinking and dilating in an attempt to see what was in front of him.

“Triton, can you see meeeE—“

Gasping, you instantly pull Triton closer to your body as you are carelessly lifted off the ground by Poseidon. The blonde male with one arm underneath your knees and the other holding your waist behind the small of your back stands up as if you two weighed nothing. Even slightly throwing you up in the air to adjust his grip. You stared confused at Poseidon whose gaze looked away from you for the first time since he arrived. Instead staring out at the waves of the sea.

As the male began to walk towards the water, you wanted to question what he was doing. Wanted to question why in the world he had picked you up and was currently holding you. Why he hadn’t killed you on the spot. Why he was walking towards the water. But chose against saying the thoughts that were present in your mind. Remembering fearfully the sharp gaze he gave when you not only called his name but also spoke out of turn.

However, you soon regret not speaking your thoughts out loud. Or, at the very least, putting up a fight.

“H-Hey! What are you?!” You screech out as Poseidon travels further into the sea. The cold crashing waves now hitting your feet and soon traveling up to the rest of your body as Poseidon continues further in. “Hey! Stop! We’-I’ll Drow—“

“Shut up.” Poseidon barks out. Even though he doesn’t bother to give you a glance, you still hear the venom in his voice and freeze up. You looked worriedly around you as the water got higher and higher, all the way up til your chest and neck.

“A-Ah.” You can’t help but let out as you see Triton’s head starts to sink underneath the water. Quickly, you fix your grip on the boy and lift his head above the water. Even if he was an aquatic god, you still weren’t sure if he could breathe underwater. However, the only problem with lifting Triton above the water is that it pushed you further under. The waves now crashing against your chin instead of your neck.

“W-Wait—“

As you gasped out your last word, your head went under. You struggled slightly as Poseidon continued to trech forward but couldn’t do much as you didn’t want Triton’s head to drop underneath the water. Even if you knew it was fruitless and Triton would eventually go under, You hoped he would wake up and make an escape.

Stupid human.

As Poseidon's head finally goes under the water and he begins to float down, deeper into the sea, he finally turns his head back to stare at you. You really were pathetic and stupid as the other humans. Lifting his son’s, Prince of the sea, head above the water as if he could actually drown. What a joke.

What in the world did his brother see in you? Making a huge show in the courtroom about how you would be the perfect substitute for Amphitrite. How everyone should at least give you the chance to be Triton’s nanny and take care of him. How you would help the child grow and shit. How you would actually pay attention to him.

Poseidon feels himself freeze for a moment before tightening his grip more on you. Your body had already began to grow limp in his arms. If he so pleased, he bet he could just tighten his grip more on your frame and you would shatter in a million pieces.

Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. Fragile.

Poseidon grunts out in disapproval at the disgusting passing thought in his mind. You were just a pathetic being. One that would pathetically die right here.

Poseidon once again grunts as the feeling of annoyance passes by in his mind. It must have been all those stories Zeus shared at the trial while he secretly observed you two. As a perfect being he shouldn’t be so easily swindled by such thoughts. His son once again was making him weak.

This is why I stayed away in the first place, Poseidon thought as he rolled his eyes.

Slowly, Poseidon trails his hand up from the small of your back to your cheek. He tilts your head that was flopped to the side with his thumb so that you looked at him.

‘The perfect substitute for Amphitrite’. His brother sure was cruel. You were nothing but a small mouse compared to the apex predator that was his, likely, soon to be ex-wife. The minute Amphitrite lays her eyes on you she would surely kill you.

Poseidon gives your cheek a slight stroke around the bruise that was settling there. You really were pathetic, getting a bruise from such a weak grip.

Little by little, Poseidon leaned down closer to your face. His nose grazing yours slightly causes him to pause as he once again observes you. He wondered if what he would do next would end up getting you killed.

You truly were Pathetic after all. Even amongst all the humans he has met over the many millenniums. Though, he couldn’t deny, much better than the venomous Amphitrite.

I’ll just throw you away later when I’m done, Poseidon decides as he finally closes the gap. His lips swallowing yours in a harsh kiss as he brings his palm away from your cheek to wrap around the back of your neck. For once in his life being careful not to snap someone’s spine in half.

Fragile.

That thought once again passes by in Poseidon’s mind as he continues to hold you close to him. Fragile like fine china. Yet also soft…, warm… A contrast to his cold and strong marble like body. The body of a god.

Disgusting.

Finally, Poseidon pulls away, scrunching up his nose in distaste. It seems he’ll have to ‘talk’ to his brother about interfering in his personal life again. Though, it’s not like his brother ever listened to begin with.

What a pain.

—.—.—.—.—

Were you dead?

No, you were definitely still alive. For your body felt like a ton of bricks. So much so that even lifting a finger exceeded all of your energy available.

But how were you still alive?

Did Poseidon possibly save you in the end? Knowing that asshole it wasn’t likely. Perhaps Zeus swooped in at the end or Triton saved you. A possibility…but also still highly unlikely. You guessed you would have to find out for yourself.

“Ugh…” You groan out as you attempt to open your eyes only to shut them again. The light in the room felt all too blinding. That wouldn't work, you couldn’t see anything in front of you but it wasn’t like you had any other options, you would have to try again. “Shit…”

You once again attempt to open your eyes. Your vision was still hindered by the light this time but it was at the very least bearable.

Ah, that’s painful. You can’t help but hiss out as you attempt to lift your arm to cover the light coming into your eyes.

It seems you would have to wait patiently for your vision to… return…

You feel yourself freeze as something blurry comes into your view. It was blue and shiny, seeming to levitate or float towards your face.

“W-what…?” You can’t help but spit out as you stare at the thing approaching you. Blinking and unblinking as you attempt to make your eyes address what was in front of you, “A-A fish…?”

It was in fact a fish. A giant one at that, if you had to guess it was about the length of your forearm. But, how was it floating there in front of you…? Fish can only exist in wa—

“Hello My Lady!”

The…

The Fish…. Just talked.

You stared in horror at the thing in front of you. You had to be out of it, there was no way that a fish had just talked to you. Nevertheless be actually able to breathe air…

“No way…” You gasped out as you finally drifted your gaze away from the fish. Now that your eyes had finally fully adjusted, you could finally see where you were.

You were…

Underwater.

Specifically you were underwater in a fantasy noble-like bedroom: Ginormous in size, able to fit a huge bed, couch, dressers and, of course, still plenty of space to be able to walk around. The only difference from the fantasy-like bedroom that one would see in novels was that it was clearly flooded with water.

“My lady?” The fish calls once again, “Are you okay?”

“How—how? What— You…” You gasp out in confusion, only to suddenly stop and grab at your throat. How were you breathing underwater to begin with?

“M-My Lady please calm down!” The fish shouts out worriedly as it watches you panic. “I promise I’ll explain everything once you calm down.”

You pause at the fish’s words, he was correct. You had to calm down if you wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on with you. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm yourself but quickly scrap the idea as it felt way too odd to you. Instead choosing to just nod your head to get on with the fish’s explanation, “O-okay…”

“Thank you, My lady.” The fish tells you as it somehow bows, at the least what looks like a bow, “My name is Marine and I’m a Servant at Lord Poseidon’s Palace…”

So, Poseidon must have saved you. But,… why… it didn’t make sense with all he stated on the shore. Zeus or Triton must have made some sort of interference to save you.

“…Please do not worry as you are still alive and well. The reason you are breathing underwater and communicating with me is due to the blessing you gain from Lord Poseidon.”

“B-Blessing..?” You ask a gasp as you look down at yourself. Patting yourself in certain places to make sure you were all well only to let out a small groan. It seemed you were still sore and in pain.

“Please be careful, My Lady.” Marine tells you worriedly as pats you with his fin. Seeming to attempt to push you backwards so you can lay back down. Thankfully, once you comply with Marine’s request, it answers your question, “Gods can usually bestow 3 things on humans: Curses, Blessings and Ambrosia. Though this can differ from god to god based on what they can accomplish. Curses are pretty self explanatory but Blessings and Ambrosia are complicated. Blessings are gifts or abilities that are bestowed upon humans by gods. In Lord Poseidon’s case he bestowed upon you the ability to breathe underwater and communicate with sea life like other aquatic folk.”

“I see…”

“Finally, Ambrosia is what happens when a human consumes the blood of a god. If said human somehow survives the consumption, they are bestowed the gift of being a Demi-god. So far only one human has survived consuming Ambrosia and that is Lord Hercules.”

Dangerous. Not just in the way of how powerful Ambrosia is but in how many times you could have accidentally consumed it from Triton alone. Even though a God’s skin is stronger than a human’s it wasn’t by much as they could still bleed just as easily. The amount of times you had to bandage Triton’s scrapes when he tripped or bumped into something proved that.

“My Lady?”

At Marine’s call, you are startled out of your thoughts, “Ah sorry. I—“

“P-please don't apologize! You are my lady, you have nothing to apologize for.” Marine shouts out as he visibly pales, “I am your servant, it is actually my fault for disturbing you while you were clearly thinking.”

“A-ah I wouldn’t say that…” You murmured out, clearly disagreeing with what Marine was telling you. Though… You find yourself pause as a thought suddenly hits you, “Marine, Why are you calling me ‘My Lady’?”

“Why that’s because you are the new lady of the Manor.”

“T-the manor? What Manor?”

“Southern Manor, Of cours—“ Marine seems to pause at his words as he realizes something. “I sincerely apologize, My Lady. I totally forgot that since you are from the human realm that you have no idea what has happened here.”

Marine looks around the room before finally spotting what he was looking for and swimming over to it. A map…? You sit up slightly as you look over at the giant map that mount the wall above a dresser.

“At the Palace, there are 5 Manors that make up its body. Pacific Manor, The main Manor that holds the king and queen of the sea. Arctic Manor, which holds and trains the knights that protect Atlantis. Atlantic Manor, Lord Triton’s as well as any future heirs Manor. Indian Manor, which holds Lord Triton’s classes, storage and other needed rooms. And Finally, Southern Manor…., for Lord Poseidon’s Mistresses.”

“M-mistresses?!” You spit out as you shoot up from your spot. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. In no ways would you bed Poseidon. This wasn’t what you wanted when you accepted to be Triton’s mother. You didn’t want to actually be with his father.

“P-please calm down, My Lady. You aren’t one of Lord Poseidon’s Mistresses. My Lord has never taken a Mistress ever.” At Marine’s explanation, you let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. “The reason I call you My lady is simply because you are now Lord Triton’s official guardian along with Lord Poseidon after Lady Amphitrite was ruled irresponsible for such duties. Due to Lady Amphitrite still not officially divorced from Lord Poseidon, she still lives in Pacific Manor. So you can not live there as of now and the second best place is here in Southern Manor.”

“O-oh…” You choke out. Though you were happy that you were officially Triton’s guardian and can still stay by the boy’s side, you weren’t sure how long you would last. Especially since you were sure that woman was now going to be out for your throat. “…but couldn’t she just come over to this Manor if she so pleased?”

“Not at all, My lady. Do not worry.” Marine informs you as it points its fin to the cluster of three manors at the top. “The Atlantic Manor, Southern Manor and Indian Manor were all originally designed to hold an intricate sea garden in the middle. This idea was later scrapped by Lady Amphitrite but, by the time she denied it, a tall metal fence had already been put up that surrounded the three buildings to keep unauthorized visitors out from the garden. Under Lord Poseidon’s watch, early this morning a sea witch put up a spell that forbade Lady Amphitrite from entering anywhere in the gated area. So she will not be able to get anywhere near you or Lord Triton.”

“Oh. Thank goodness” You mutter out as you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, you and Triton could live in somewhat peace after—

Triton…!

How could you possibly forget about what happened with Marissa? Was Triton treated for his wounds once he got back?

“My Lady, you can’t get up—“

“Marine. Please take me to see Triton. I need to see him at once!”

Author Note: Ooooop— We got a little insight on how Poseidon feels about the reader and still what in the world happened to Triton? I’m just glad Vol. 2 is up and I can’t wait for the next chapter. Yet, Triton… I miss you 😢. Come back soon in my writing, bud. We need you to lighten up the atmosphere.

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #snv #record of ragnarok #bivalve

272 notes · View notes

wifeboys · 3 years ago

Text

Third Time’s the Charm // Wilmon

Summary: Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.

Word Count: ~2600

A/N: A little in-universe fic to tie us over. Based on prompts from this prompt list *shamelessly plugs my prompts blog @deity-prompts *. Also I haven’t written fanfiction is a while so I’m a little rusty.

gif credits: @princewilhelm

Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.

The first time is at Rosh's soccer final. The pair (and Ayub) had gone to every single game of the season, rain, or shine. They stood at the side lines. The night air gripped them through their puffy coats. Flood lights illuminate their breaths. Wilhelm and Simon pressed shoulders to 'help keep them warm'.

The game is intense. The ball is sent over and back again and again. Fouls are left and right. Fights even break out. The crowd hold their breath, each moment electric. Simon is so focused on the game that he forgets where he is. He forgets who he's with and who he is. All he can concentrate on is Rosh.

The whistle blows, once, twice, three times. Rosh punches the air with a victorious scream. The crowd erupts. Everyone rushes onto the pitch. They clutch each other into hugs, exchanging "congratulations!" and kisses on the cheek. Simon sprints to Rosh, grabbing her tightly. She slaps his back and yells something he can't hear. Ayub pushes him out of the way and hugs Rosh. Simon staggers back with a laugh. Wilhelm is in front of him. His eyes sparkle with happiness and Simon can't help but smile. Before he can hug him, Wilhelm places his hands on Simons cheeks and quickly kisses him. The kiss barely lasts two seconds, but time seems to freeze. Simon short-circuits.

Before he can process or kiss him back, Wilhelm is already hugging someone else and Ayub is grabbing Simon. "SHE DID IT! FUCKING YEAH!" The night moves on. Everyone goes out to celebrate, still full of energy until they part in the early hours. As Simon celebrates, he can't help but think about Wilhelm kissing him. Did he kiss him or did he imagine it? No, it definitely happened. He can't imagine the electricity pulsing through him. He can't imagine the rush and heat he felt.

But that doesn't mean Wilhelm wanted to kiss him. It was an intense game. Everyone was celebrating. It was probably just a "hey bro, we did it! let's celebrate!" kiss. Wilhelm would've kissed anyone, Simon just happened to be there.

That's what Wilhelm is acting like. He's hugging everyone he comes across. Simons not sure if that's because Wilhelm is a hugger or because he's buzzed on celebratory drinks. Either way, he's not treating Simon any different. He's still talking to him like they're regular bros who like regular sports and other regular things.

It was nothing, Simon decides.

• ❤︎ •

The second time is at Felice's birthday party. She spares no expense. The common room is decked with streamers, balloons, and stocked with alcohol. Everyone is wearing the most extravagant outfits they have. The birthday girl has braided her hair short as a boys, and wears a purple robe that reaches her heels. Simon wears a black, glittery blazer over his bare chest with waist high black trousers. The lack of shirt was probably a good idea, considering people keep bumping into him and spilling their drinks.

The music is practically deafening. You can't walk two steps without knocking shoulders with someone. Simon keeps to the back of the room, fiddling with the hem of his blazar as the party unfolds in front of him. Sara keeps him company, chatting his ear off about something he can't hear. The only thing he can focus on is a certain prince across the room.

Simon barely notices when Sara tugs at his sleeve. "Si! I'm going to find Felice. Don't just stand here for the whole night. Go talk to someone"

She disappears into the sea of drunk teenagers. There's no way Sara was telling him to go talk to Wilhelm specifically, but that's all Simon wants to do. Actually, he wants to skip the talking and pin Wilhelm against the wall.

But Simon can't do it. He's glued with his back against a wall as people make out around him. He can't mess things up with Wilhelm. He can't scare him off. He can't lose a great friend on the tiny chance he might get a boyfriend. Simon repeats this like a mantra to the beat of the music.

None of this stops him checking out Wilhelm, the crowd acting as a safety buffer. His simple yellow shirt is plain considering the occasion. He made up for it by covering his hair with glitter that has fallen onto his face and shoulders.

He watches as an already tipsy Wilhelm finishes his drink. He's surrounded by people (probably his friends). He suddenly cracks up at some joke they say. Glitter explodes into the air with the quick movement of his head. A shiny halo illuminates his face. God, he's beautiful when he laughs.

"Simon! Simon Simon Simon" Felice nearly falls on top of him. "I'm so glad you're here- and you look amazing"

"Thanks, so do you- and happy birthday" Simon has never been good at taking compliments.

"You're too kind. I'll admit, I can't get enough of my cape. Hey, you should try it on! Purple is definitely your colour"

"Oh no I couldn't-"

"Oh yes you could. Let's swap jackets. I promise I'll give it back"

Next thing Simon knows, Felice is slipping off her cloak-y thing to reveal a white blouse and black skirt. She takes Simon's jacket, even giving him a spin. "We look stunning" she says as Simon wraps her robe around him. It looks a bit weird on him, but it's soft and smells nice. Felice sips her drink, and frowns. "My cup is empty. Can I get you a drink?"

"Uh- sure"

Felice disappears into the crowd. Simon goes back to looking for Wilhelm, but he's nowhere to be seen. He scans the crowd carefully. Wow, there's a lot of people here. A lot of bodies. The air is thick. The music is too loud. The room is too small. Simon needs to get out.

He excuses his way towards the door, not stopping until he's breathing in the night air. He leans next to the door, careful to keep Felice's robe clean. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Simon can only handle parties for a short while before he needs a break.

He stares up at the sky. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The stars are like glitter. The moon shines brightly at him. Deep breath in. He can't find Wilhelm, but at least he can spot the Man In The Moon. Deep breath out.

He's grounded again. He knows he should go home soon, but he figures a bit longer inside wont hurt. He gets up to go inside and find Felice when the door swings open. A yellow shirt stumbles into the night, glitter sparkling in the moonlight.

Simon finally found Wilhelm- or, rather, Wilhelm found him.

Wilhelm finds his footing, looking around. He finally spots Simon by the door.

"There you are!" He exclaims. There I am?

If Simon moves fast enough, he can slip back inside before Wilhelm even notices him. He can grab Sara and pretend he never came to the party. Before he can put his plan into effect, Wilhelm is cupping his face again.

Wilhelm kisses him. Simon is quicker to react this time. He kisses back, his plan to escape already forgotten. Wilhelm pulls back for a moment to tilt his head to the side. Simon holds the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair. Glitter falls around them.

Wilhelm's hands slip behind Simon's robe, pulling him closer. Simon shivers as his hands run up and down his back. He drowns in bliss, finally getting to kiss Wilhelm the way he always wanted to.

When Wilhelm finally pulls back, his eyes stay closed. "Oh" he sighs softly. "Oh . . . I'm about to throw up. Excuse me"

Without even looking at Simon, Wilhelm turns and staggers around the corner. Simon hears retching. His escape plan kicks in. He practically runs back into the party, nearly knocking people over as he finds Felice.

He finds her giggling with Sara, who's cheeks are blushes deep red. They swap their clothes back, re-completing Felice's outfit. She truly looks stunning, tonight more than ever. Up close, her hair is woven more intricately than he realised. It's as short as his but looks ten times better.

Oh God- with the short hair and purple cloak, he probably looks just like Felice. Especially to someone who's drunk. Wilhelm didn't mean to kiss him. He meant to kiss Felice. Now Simon feels like he's going to throw up.

• ❤︎ •

The third time is after Parents Day. Simon spent the days leading up to it avoiding Wilhelm. He probably doesn't remember the kiss at all but Simon wont chance it. He won't give Wilhelm the opportunity to reject him. This doesn’t stop him from looking at him for a little too long from across the room. This doesn’t stop Wilhelm looking back.

His ingenious “if I ignore him he can’t reject me” plan fails, however, when Wilhelm sits with his family as they eat. Simon can't take his eyes off him as he chats with Simon and Felice's family. Wilhelm combs his fingers through his hair, licks his lips, laughs along to jokes. Simon soaks up every minute of it.

Dinner plates empty. Belts are loosened. Waiters come around to collect dishes and Simon starts to panic. Wilhelm has been glancing at him again and again throughout the dinner. He's definitely going to corner Simon and let him down. Tell him to forget all about the kiss (if he even remembers it). Simon pulls out his phone.

Simon I need you to pick me up

Ayub Thought you were at the parents dinner Cant ur mom take u home?

Simon I'll explain later If you pick me up right now I'll be forever grateful

Ayub I'll be outside in ten You owe me one

Simon I love you more than life itself

Simon rests his phone on the table, slightly less panicked. As soon as people start getting to their feet, he bolts. Out the door. Our of the school. He only slows when his feet crunches on the front road's gravel.

Ayub arrives right on time. Simon jumps on his bike before he can ask what's going on. It isn't until the next day that Simon comes to a shocking realisation: he left his phone at Hillerska.

• ❤︎ •

"Didn't think I'd be back here so soon" Ayub says as he drops Simon off.

"I'll be in and out, I promise. Everyone's gone home so I'll be able to find it and grab it"

"Here, call yourself on my phone. You can follow the ringing"

"Where would I be without you"

Ayub tosses his phone and gestures for Simon to go. He pushes open the doors. Hillerska feels haunted without students bustling through the halls. It's like a museum. Simon opens Ayub's phone and calls himself.

It's probably in the dining room where they ate. He walks towards it, listening intently for his ringtone. What he doesn't expect is for someone to pick up.

“Hello?”

Simon stares at the phone for a moment before pressing it to his ear. ". . . Hello?"

“Simon? That you?”

“Wille!" Perfect. The one person he was trying to not talk to. "Sorry, I didn’t recognise your voice”

"Don't worry about it, I don't think you were expecting me to answer"

"Yeah, uh, you have my phone. That's why I was calling it. I must've left it here yesterday"

"Where are you? I can drop it off"

"I'm already at Hillerska so I can just grab it. Want me to come to you?"

"Just start walking, we'll find each other"

Simon decides to go in the general direction of Wilhelm's dorms. It really does feel like a museum. Each alcove is like a display he can't touch. His footsteps echo.

“So . . . what’re you doing with my phone?” Simon asks.

“I actually didn’t know it was yours. It was left on one of the tables, so I took it in case the owner came looking for it”

“And here I am”

“And here you are”

Simon can't help but smile. He's sure he can hear Wilhelm smiling too.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you”

“Talk to me?”

“Yeah. Um . . . it's about Felice's party"

Simon stops. Here it is. Everything has backfired and now the one thing he didn't want to talk about has come up.

"Simon? You there?"

"Yes! Uh yes I am." He rubs a hand across his face. Play it cool. "What about her party?"

"I'm sorry that I was so drunk that night. I figured I'd need some . . . liquid courage but I guess I had too much"

"Yeah. It was a uh, a wild night" Simon feels like he's choking on his own heart. He distracts himself by looking around at the hallway. He's not even sure where in the school he is. He's more focused on not throwing up.

"Do you remember that night?"

Play it cool. "Anything specific you want me to remember?"

There's a moment of silence. Simon can hear Wilhelm's footsteps through the phone. "If you want to forget that night and move on like nothing happened, we can definitely can"

Simon doesn't want to forget. It's all he can think about.

"Do you want to forget about it?" Simon asks, swallowing.

Wilhelm's walking slows as he thinks. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable"

"I don't . . . I wasn't uncomfortable"

There's a beat. "I'm glad. That-that you weren't uncomfortable"

"I'm a little uncomfortable now" Simon laughs awkwardly. His tension eases a little when Wilhelm laughs too.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know how to talk about this" Simon kicks his feet against the floor.

"I have to say, I didn't think I'd be talking to you about this over the phone"

"I didn't think you'd want to talk about this at all. I thought you were going to avoid me forever"

"Hey, you're the one who was avoiding me"

"Yeah yeah I know" Simon smiles.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath and exhales. "I really wanted to kiss you that night. That's why I got so drunk I needed a confidence boost. It uh, it didn't help that you ignored the kiss at Rosh's game"

Simon's jaw drops in a smile. "I didn't ignore it! I just panicked. I figured it was a spur of the moment celebration"

"None of it was spur of the moment. I've wanted to kiss you for a while"

"You have?"

"You didn't notice?"

"Not at all. If I did, I probably would've kissed you"

Simon hears him stop and smile. “Simon, you are the smartest idiot I ever met”

He hangs up. He hangs up? Simon looks at the phone as if it holds the answer. His brow furrow as a hand grabs his shoulder from behind. He turns, that there he is.

"Hi" they say in unison.

Wilhelm's hands are on Simon's shoulders. He holds his gaze with a smile. Simon completely forgets how to breathe. All he can think about his Wilhelm being so close to him and his lips being right there because really they're right there-

"Can I kiss you again?" Wilhelm asks. Simon nods.

Wilhelm kisses him for the third time. It's hesitant- like he's testing the waters to see if Simon is willing to swim. Before he can pull away, Simon yanks him back in. His hands thread through Wilhelm's hair as Wilhelm wraps his arms around his waist. They pull each other impossibly close. It's their third-first-kiss and it is perfect.

#wilhelm x simon #young royals #wilmon fanfiction #wilmon fanfic #wilhelm x Simon fanfiction #wilhelm x Simon fanfic #young royals fanfic #edvin ryding #omar rudberg

140 notes · View notes

arcadejohn127-9 · 4 years ago

Note

Okay, so I'm really skinny. Underweight tbh. And I'm kinda insecure about that, because I'm literary bones and skin.

Could I request Brothers dealing with some lesser demons who were laughing at MC because how small, skinny and "easy to break" they are?

All body types are valid and wonderful; just like some people can't control how much weight they put on, others can't control how much weight they can't gain. It's not always simple with body types - just look after yourself regardless of your size. Eat your 3 main meals, have small snacks or mini meals every 2-3 hours that are more healthy or if you have healthy main meals let your mini meals/snacks be unhealthy

Though too much of anything can be unhealthy so is there really a different between the types?

Also please everyone drink plenty of water even if you have to give it some flavour for it be more enjoyable!

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

"are you sure you're a human? You look more like a reaper to me."

Three demons surrounded you, leaning on the table as you tried to ignore them. Keeping your focus on the the worksheet Infront of you but a demon snatched your pencil.

"Hey, doesn't this remind you of Someone?" the demon laughed, pointing the pencil at you.

But they took it another step, they easily snapped the pencil in half with one hand. Throwing it back at you. You flinched away, covering your face but luckily it landed on the table.

They were all snickering. Prodding at your arms and sides. You squirmed away from them and slapped their hands.

"leave me alone..."

A different male demon grabbed your wrist, inspecting your slim wrist.

"hey don't grab them like that, you might break them! I mean look at them, they're bone!" The female demon mocked concern.

"Aw come on~ can't handle a few jokes? Humans really are weak."

Your wrist was thrown from his grasp; it smacked on the table and you hissed. Just before you could do anything the classroom door suddenly opened. The demons all whispered a fearful "oh shit" under their breath.

Lucifer:

"I see you're living up to the title 'lesser demon', how wonderful for you."

His condescending smile immediately drooped

His hands moved swiftly and a whip appeared in them, he glared at them

The three of them gulped, looking at each other

"How many lashing should I give them, perhaps everytime they insulted you? Every snicker or chuckle - how about everytime they breathed?"

he snapped the whip with a snarl

They looked at you for mercy and you considered letting Lucifer having his way

But you felt a sick feeling in your stomach knowing how vicious he could get

"i just want an apology and to be left alone..."

"You heard them, beg for forgiveness and if i find any of you were bothering them again I won't let them decide your fate."

The three demons immediately got on their knees, legs shaking as they apologized repeatedly for their actions

You knew it was fake but apart of you felt happy hearing their apology

"you can leave now."

On that cue they ran out making sure to dodge the quick whip from Lucifer

The last one Getting caught on the butt and practically jumped out of the room

"They're foolish, love, you are absolutely ravishing and I could never ask for a more wonderful partner, let's go get some ice cream - my treat to help your bad day."

Mammon:

"ya wanna repeat that? Don't be going all silent just because I'm here~ go on, keep insulting the human, see what happens."

He chuckled, hands in pockets

The demons weren't sure how to respond

To test what he'll do or play it safe

Mammon twiddled a playing card between his fingers, a smirk on his face as he stood behind you

One of the demons opened their mouth but he just flicked his wrist, the card sticking itself in the wall just missing the demon

"I ain't very forgiving, ya see so it's best you start apologizing now or things could get abit messy."

You was surprised by how fast they all dropped

Apologizing and begging for you to forgive them

"Please leave, you've apologized enough."

They all ran out thanking you for being so kind

"awww but (Y/N), you could of made them your posse!"

"I just wanted them to leave, I know they aren't actually sorry."

"hfmp, they better be or else I'll get 'em - did I look cool?! I was practising that trick for weeks!"

You chuckled, kissing his cheek

He grinned even wider as he grabbed your hand

"you were real cool, you were like a spy."

"does that make you my stunning partner in crime? Your looks lure in the suspects and I get them? You can't convince me otherwise - you're a real beaut."

Levithan:

"LMAO, your faces~! I can't wait for this to go viral, perhaps even Prince Diavolo will see this, wouldn't that be unfortunate."

He kept filming, pointing the camera at their faces

They looked even more Horrified

A powerful demon was already coming to get them but now the prince could get involved?

"should I post it, (Y/N)? You're in it after all."

"I just want them to leave me alone, I don't care."

Levithan hummed, displeased at the demons

"it's pretty rude you're just standing there and not apologizing, they're the one in charge if you get found out or not."

The demons gasped, staring at you and then back at Levithan

They immediately started apologizing, blaming their actions on just jealousy

You shook your head and they began to sweat

Fearing they're going to put on blast for their actions

Surprised by your defeated sigh

"just go....it's not worth it."

Levi was about to argue differently but the demon had already left

"Wha!!!! I felt like an anime protagonist! Did they say anything else to you?! I swear they can't tell what beauty is-"

"it's fine, they weren't wrong."

"HUUUH???!!!!!! don't listen to them, (Y/N), I think you look just fine the way you are and yo-you should see yourself as attractive too-! because you're awesome and Your loo-looks are even more cool!"

He hugged you, hiding his red face in your shoulder

Satan:

"You're brave to think you're in any position to even breathe in their direction, for all our dignities It would be best you apologize and leave."

They were ready to bolt right there and then

They looked at you and started to apologize but Satan clicked his teeth

"be sincere, we can be here for as long as we want until you feel genuine guilt for your actions."

He slammed his hand down on the table

The lesser demons cowered

You just sat there, frowning

You just wanted to be left alone and let your feelings out

The demons apologized again

Making sure to add sincerity in their voice but Satan kept making them repeat themselves

It got to the point you had to cut him off

"It's fine, they've apologized, let them leave."

He hummed, annoyed but nodded

The demons scrambled out of the room, fearing to even look at the two of you

"if you ever need me to go back at them I'll do just that, I couldn't believe they would say something like that to you."

"thanks for helping, just let them leave instead of using your energy."

"I'll try to but I'll make sure there is no next time, you don't deserve to be spoken to like that and you are far more charming than any of them, I for one, adore how you look."

Asmodeus:

"repeat that again~? I hope I didn't hear you three insulting my darling, it's so ugly to shame others for their body."

The demons tried to utter out a response but he just stared at them

Tilting his head as he smiled

He got closer to them, staring into their eyes

Soon enough they were charmed

"why don't you tell me why you thought it was okay to speak to (Y/N) like that."

They all began speaking; expressing their envy for your relationship with asmo and the other demons

One of them just telling him they saw you as fragile and unlikable

Asmo smiled wider before suddenly grabbing one their chins, a snarl on his face now

"do you feel sorry? Are you ashamed of yourself?"

They all said yes, apologizing to you

"thanks asmo, you can let them go now."

He happily did as you said, telling them to leave

He nuzzled into your body, hands wandering over it as he grinned

"They're just jealous demons who can't handle their own Insecurities, you're not like them, everything about you is good looking - inside and out! I couldn't ask for anything more~"

"Seriously...?"

"yes!!! I'm in love with you and your body is marvelous to look at, i can't get enough of you!"

Beezlebub:

"Apologize and leave or I'll make you my next meal."

Straight to the point

And it was effective

His size was already intimidating but his willingness to devour whatever he wanted was scarier

They apologized to you, Getting on their knees and telling you how gorgeous you were

You felt your mood get worse so you waved your hand

"don't bother, a sorry was enough, you can leave now."

They shot up but Beel bite the air Infront of them when they passed him

They shrieked and picked up their speed

"I can't stand people like that.... they're more clueless than mammon."

He sat with you

Clenching his jaw, you held his hand and leaned against him

"Don't listen to them, I think you look really nice, I like the way you look but I know the important thing is that you like the way you look, I don't mind how you look because you'll still always be you."

Belphegor:

"Hey gorgeous, are these idioits bothering you? What a shame, I was hoping lesser demons knew how to keep in their place."

He wrapped an arm around you

Glaring at the lesser demons, they grew more nervous under his hateful eye

They muttered to themselves for not realising he was there but belphie mocked them, asking them to speak up

"what's with the change of energy? You were confident about your opinions before, what changed?"

They couldn't answer without looking weak

Belphegor only grinned at them

He kissed your cheek

"that's what I thought, scram!"

They ran off, not daring to look at you

They couldn't even hiss or glare, knowing the demon behind you would have their throat for it

They were lucky to not get hurt when he found them

"thanks, sorry, did you come here to sleep?"

"I was looking for you, keep me close, okay? Don't listen to those demons - they wouldn't be able to tell what's good or not even if their lives depended on it, you're perfect the way you are."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me luficer #obey me imagine #obey me x brother #obey me headcanon #demon brother's #obey me swd

279 notes · View notes

wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

Text

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki angst #loki x female reader #loki x reader angst #my writer's block is finally gone and I can write again!#wohooo!#loki oninson #loki laufejarson #loki

124 notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

Text

All For Us Chapter 9

Hey y’all, thanks for being patient with me on this one, but it’s finally done! Not to be the bearer of bad news or anything, but there’s only one chapter left (and maybe an epilogue) on our journey with Mira, Erik, and Cupcake. If you’re just here for Killmonger, I have a couple Erik oneshots heading y’all’s way in the next few weeks. Also, check out The Temple. 😉

As always, don’t forget to look at my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Like, comment, and reblog away! 🥰

CW: a little smut

Word Count: 6,481

Erik’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright through the sand that covered his body in his temporary grave. He was in the heart of the temple where the Black Panther ceremony took place, the City of the Dead. The lost prince pulled himself from the sand and brushed the clay-colored sediment from around his eyes as he climbed the stone staircase leading up into the garden of the heart-shaped herb. When he made it to the top, Erik took a deep breath before stepping into the garden. To his surprise, nothing caught on fire like in his previous dreams. His shoulders relaxed as he took another step into the garden, and another, and another until he was face to face with Bast’s statue. A smile took over his face as he knelt at her feet.

“Took you long enough, Jaguar.”

Erik lifted his head, and her celestial glow nearly blinded him as he laid his eyes on the panther goddess once more.

“Long enough for what?”

“For your senses to come back, obviously.” Bast circled him and laid down, licking her paw. “Pretty soon, you won’t have to be asleep to talk to me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Oh, I had nothing to do with it.”

Erik turned to face her and sat back on his heels.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never took them away. You did.”

“I’m not following.”

“Your guilt blocked your senses, Erik,” she sighed. “You had been holding onto pieces of it, but you finally let it go.”

“I felt guilty for ruining our marriage,” Erik mused aloud.

“But you didn’t, so congratulations,” she said nonchalantly. “That’s not why you’re here, though.”

“Ok, what’s up?”

Bast chuckled at his informality.

“Last time we spoke, I said I would need you to do something for me. I’ve finally made up my mind as to what that is.”

Erik sat with bated breath as he waited for his assignment. For a moment, he was reminded of his military and mercenary days, except this time, he was being given a mission from a goddess. His goddess.

“As you know, Wakanda has never had a Golden Jaguar before. You are an anomaly, but that is a good thing.” She stood up and started walking, making him rush to his feet to follow after her.

“It is?”

“Yes. You know, the good thing about cycles is that with destruction comes rebirth…change. You’ve forced Wakanda to change, and you’ve forced me to think some things over. Truthfully, after the little stunt you almost pulled, I did think about removing your powers. I don’t need to preach about it, though, since you already know all about your wrongdoings, but I heard what you said about your people. We have neglected them, and for that, I have no words of apology that would adequately ease your pain. The Lost Tribe, as my people have come to call you, needs a champion. Wakanda already has theirs, but since you seem to rather enjoy toying with colonizers, I have an assignment for you.”

Erik’s ears were trained on Bast as he hung on every word she said. He walked next to her as they made their way through the catacombs towards the temple’s entrance.

“Before you came to Wakanda, you were involved with Klaue and his hunt for vibranium. Your vast knowledge of African and diasporic artifacts combined with your training makes a great equation for what I need you to do.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to act as the Golden Jaguar on the Lost Tribe’s behalf. I recognize that as just one person, you can only do so much, which is why I will talk to T’Challa about you heading his Wardog program. I would like for you to have an army of spies at your disposal to act instead of just watch and report as they have done in the past.”

“So basically what I wanted to do before but without the world domination?”

“Precisely,” Bast chuckled and stopped walking at the door to the temple.

“Ok,” Erik thought on it as a smile crept up his cheeks. “I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would. I think you’ll like my first assignment. Well, second. First, you need to stop avoiding the City of the Dead in your waking life. You need to go visit the garden.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Erik said, his nerves twisting in his gut at the thought of actually stepping back onto the sacred land.

“Now, my second assignment: artifact reclamation. Instead of searching for vibranium, which you might find, I want you to return items to their rightful owners.”

“So, stealing,” Erik deadpanned.

“Yes, but for a good cause. I will let you work out the details, but the point is to return the power to the people by building them back up, brick by brick. They were separated from their gods, so the Ancestors and the Orishas are working on bringing them back to us spiritually. They are still working on getting other spirits and pantheons on board...alas, my brother and sisters are choosing to take a more passive approach.” She sighed. “The Lost Tribe was taken from the land, so T’Challa has already spearheaded initiatives to build up other African countries that need his assistance and bring the Lost home to the continent. Now, I need you to bring our belongings home. Our thrones, our art, our history. Take it back. Bring it back to its rightful place.”

“I’m with it, but, um...how am I supposed to do this without getting caught? If shit just starts disappearing en masse, somebody’s gonna notice.”

“They won’t disappear. The colonizers won’t even know they’re gone.” Bast flicked her tail mischievously. “Your wife designs kimoyo beads, does she not?”

“Well, yeah-”

“And your cousins are scientific geniuses, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Then I’m sure that between all of your big beautiful brains, you can figure out a way to make replicas of the artifacts.”

“Why does that compliment feel like an insult?”

“I like you, Jaguar,” The goddess chuckled. “Now go enjoy your time with your wife.” She winked at Erik as she nudged him out into the brightness shining from outside the wide-open temple doors. Erik returned to consciousness, and he was shocked by the feeling of Mira’s mouth traveling up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, girl. This how you waking Big Daddy up now?”

She popped her head off his tip, and he groaned at the sight of a bridge of spit still connecting her to him.

“Good morning, baby.”

“Mmmm, good morning to you, too,” he grabbed her loose curls that she had forgotten to tie up the night before. The silk sheets kept her hair soft and bouncy as her hair spilled over his fist while it rested at the back of her head. He pulled her in for a kiss, and then she went right back to taking him down her throat. “You’re gonna make me nut all down that throat, Princess.”

Mira’s hand cupped and massaged his ballsack while she sucked on his bulbous head. Her tongue swirled around the tip, and her other hand traveled up and down his length, making his toes curl.

“Fuuuuck, you remember just what Big Daddy likes. Imma bust a fat ass nut, girl,” Erik groaned through gritted teeth. Mira giggled at her control over him and continued to work his dick. Her nose reached his pelvis as she took him down her throat, and he came with such force that she almost choked. Almost.

When she pulled off of him, she tongue-kissed his tip before sitting back on her haunches and wiping her mouth. “How’d you sleep?”

Erik let out a breathy laugh, “Like the dead.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t feel me moving. You were out cold.”

“That’s because I was talking to Bast.”

“What’d she say this time?”

Erik sat up against the headboard and motioned for her to come to him. Mira crawled up his body and straddled him, sliding down on his dick so that they were connected as deep as they could be. They had always been like this; whenever they needed to have a serious conversation, Erik would set her in his lap and have her take all of him. They both reveled in the connection they had in that moment, and even in their stillness, their united bodies responded to each other as the words fell from his lips.

“She wants me to be the Golden Jaguar officially,” he said as he kissed down from Mira’s ear to her shoulder.

“What does that mean?” Mira asked, barely above a whisper.

“She wants me to be a champion for us, the Lost Tribe. Wakandans have T, so I’ll be protecting the rest of us with the Wardogs.”

“How, though? That’s so many people.”

He came up from kissing between her breasts to look her in the eyes. “Well, remember how I told you about the museum heist to get the vibranium?”

Mira nodded.

“She wants me to steal artifacts from museums and shit and return them to where they were stolen from.”

“That sounds right up your alley,” Mira snarked, and he tickled her sides, making her pussy clench around him, and he let out a groan at the feeling. He grabbed her hips and moved them back and forth.

“It is. I can’t do anything until I visit the garden of the heart-shaped herb, though.”

“Why?” she moaned.

“I’ve been avoiding it,” he sighed.

Mira pulled him into a kiss and cycloned her hips as she wound on him. “Do you need to go alone, or do you want me to come with you?”

He connected their foreheads as he pushed his hips forward into her, and she called out his name.

“I need to go alone.”

Their hips ground into each other as the sexual energy inside them built up slowly and erupted through their bodies. Erik placed kisses all over Mira’s face and neck as she caught her breath from the intensity of her orgasm.

“How about I make breakfast?” Erik asked, and Mira simply nodded and kissed him. She moved to get up, but he held her down. “Nah, I didn’t say right now.”

After another round, the two of them separated from each other, if only because of the rumbling of their bellies. They showered together, and Erik couldn’t help himself from bending her over and eating her pussy and ass from the back. Pretty soon, he was balls deep inside her again, and when he came all over her cheeks, he about keeled over from the way the orgasm shook through his body.

“Aight, I need a break,” Erik said, and the two of them shared a laugh as they finished their shower without any more funny business.

“Can I have one of your t-shirts?” Mira asked as they slathered themselves in shea butter.

“You can have anything you want, Princess. MIT or Navy?”

“MIT please,” she cheesed at him.

“Coming right up.”

Erik left the room and returned with his maroon-colored MIT t-shirt. The same one she wore the first time she stayed over at his apartment back in the day. He knew it was her favorite and the look on her face when he handed it to her was priceless. She quickly shimmied into it while he slid on a pair of sweatpants that left little to the imagination.

The two of them relocated to the kitchen, and Mira toyed around with her latest kimoyo design on her tablet while Erik got to work on breakfast.

“That a new one?” he asked, nodding towards the design hovering over the counter.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten it to work right, though,” she grumbled as she stared at it. “I want it to be able to apply cloaking tech to whatever it touches, but so far, I can only get the bead to disappear.”

Erik listened to her complain about her failed design for a little while, and when she was done, she turned off the tablet and hopped up on the counter.

“Anything I can do?” Mira asked

“Mhm,” he came over and stood between her legs, placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. “Just sit there looking fine as hell.”

“I’m serious,” she smiled.

“So am I,” he said incredulously with a hand over his heart, making her chuckle at his dramatics.

“Fine, I’ll be your muse.”

“And my guinea pig. Here, try this.”

Erik lifted the spoon to her lips so she could taste the yam hash he had been working on, and her eyes bugged out of her head.

“I forgot you turn into Top Chef after sex.”

“Gotta feed my woman,” he kissed her cheek and cracked a couple of eggs sunny-side up in the skillet.

Mira giggled, and an idea struck her. She reached back for her tablet again and pulled up her latest work in progress, a story about a decades-long whirlwind romance that she had gotten stuck on. All she needed was a little inspiration, and Erik ended up being just what she needed.

He watched his wife type away with a smile on his face. Erik loved watching her work; the look of determination on her face was always so endearing to him. She’d bite her lip and squint her eyes as she tried her best to focus on the task at hand. Erik always thought it was adorable.

The smell of fresh vegetables coming in contact with hot oil filled the air, and Mira’s mouth started to water. She looked up from her work to see what Erik was doing but got distracted by his body. She watched his sinewy muscles moving beneath his textured skin, and a chill went down her spine.

“What the fuck is that?” Erik sniffed the air, following the sweet scent that had just wafted from out of nowhere.

“What’s what?” Mira asked, swinging her legs back and forth.

He turned to face her, and his pupils blew wide as the smell hit him again.

“It’s you,” he turned off the burner and stalked over to her, standing between her legs again and placing his nose in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent and let out a growl.

“What is that?”

“My bodywash?”

“Nah, it’s you. What-” he cut himself off when it dawned on him. When he was king for a day, he only smelled fear from those around him. Fear smelled like decay, it smelled rotten, but this was the exact opposite. It was enticing, like the most beautiful forbidden garden, and Erik knew exactly what it was. Her arousal. He bit into her neck, making her moan out as he ground his hips into hers. The aroma grew, and Erik’s composure slipped away the more he inhaled it.

“E-erik, the food.”

He took a deep breath as he stood to his full height. “I can smell when you want me.”

“What?!”

“I wonder if it’s different for every person...shit, I wonder if I can smell other people. I hope not-”

“What are you saying? You can tell when I’m horny?”

“I guess so. I only smelled fear before, but it makes sense. I’m just caught off guard because it hit me out of nowhere, like last night.”

“What happened last night?”

“I could hear your heartbeat.”

Mira’s face lit up, “That’s good, though, right? It means your senses are coming back!”

“Yeah, I’m just surprised by that one. I wasn’t expecting all that,” he laughed.

“So...I smell good?”

“You don’t know how good, Princess,” he grumbled as he finished cooking. Mira crossed her legs, making him chuckle. “That’s not helping. It’s all over you.”

“Damn...what else can you do?”

“I need to test out my strength and speed, but my sight was different, too. Everything was brighter, more vibrant. And my brain moved faster...I don’t know how to explain it. Bast said my guilt was the blockage, so they’ll probably slowly come back over time. After they’re back, I’m supposed to start on my mission.”

“You still felt guilty?”

“I thought I broke us. I mean, I did, but I felt like it was unfixable, you know?”

Mira nodded, “Yeah, it felt like that sometimes.”

Erik pulled the dishes out of the cabinet and set them down next to her.

“Mira, I’m-”

“Erik, if you say you’re sorry one more time, so help me, Bast,” Mira said, making a dimpled smile appear on Erik’s face.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They fell into a comfortable silence while Erik plated the food, and when he handed Mira hers, he left a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and hopped down from the counter to sit at the table. When she sat down, she couldn’t help but stare at Erik as he walked over. Her man, her formerly violent man was really chosen by a goddess to protect Black people around the globe.

He noticed the look on her face and couldn’t quite place it. “What?”

“Nothing, just...look at you, doing the work of gods now.”

“I bet you never thought you’d say that about your mercenary husband,” Erik winked at her.

“Sure didn’t,” Mira laughed, “but it fits. You always had it in you. You know, I’m glad I came out here. I wouldn’t get to see this new side of you otherwise, and so far, I like it.”

--------

A couple of hours later, Erik found himself in front of the City of the Dead with his palms sweating and his breath shaking. He wasn’t sure why the temple unnerved him so much, but it did. Erik knew he had to do what Bast told him, though, and took a step forward. He climbed the stairs to the ornate stone doors and waited as they slowly opened for him. Erik was met with the sight of a surprisingly calm woman in purple robes. He recognized her as the woman he had choked out, the new head priestess.

“My prince,” she saluted him. “Welcome. I have been expecting you.”

“You have?”

“Of course. Come in.”

He hesitantly stepped forward again and entered the temple. A chill went down his spine as the doors shut behind them, and he looked around the space. He had only been there once before in his waking life, but this time it felt different. It probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t scared of him this time around.

“What’s your name?” he asked nervously.

“I am Zaya, my prince.”

“You don’t have to do the whole ‘my prince’ thing. Especially since I...you know.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I’m sorry about that. I should’ve never put my hands on you.”

“I have spoken to Bast about it, and I forgive you. Just don’t let it happen again,” she warned.

Erik put his hands up in defense, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Now, you are here to see the herb, no?” She started walking, and he followed behind her.

“How’d you know?”

“I spoke to Bast, remember?” She quipped with an eyebrow raised.

“Heh, yeah,” he chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “I don’t know why I’m so anxious.”

“I assume that is a normal reaction when reckoning with your past.”

The two of them traveled deeper into the temple, and when they reached the door that led to the garden of the heart-shaped herb, he froze. Zaya looked back when she no longer heard his footsteps and smiled warmly, reaching out her hand to him. He took it, and she led him through the doors. Erik almost wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he had to face his past actions head-on.

He looked around, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw there were dozens of tiny glowing purple buds just begging to become full-grown flowers. He laughed in disbelief at what he was seeing. He had burnt the garden to ashes, but now here it was, thriving in spite of him.

“It took us a while to get them to grow again, but thankfully we were able to put out the fire before the roots were harmed,” Zaya spoke as he wandered through the garden in awe.

“And these...they still work?”

“The princess took a sample and tested it in her lab. According to her, this new batch might be a little different, but they should still work. Bast has given them her blessing, so that is enough for me.”

“So, I didn’t ruin Wakanda’s future like I thought...”

“No, just a bump in the road,” she smiled.

Just as he was about to respond, the strangest thing happened. His eyes were trained on one of the buds, and suddenly he could see every little vein in the leaves and the detail of the curled-up petals. The color became brighter and even more purple than most people could comprehend, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he smiled.

He could see again.

“Are you ok?” Zaya asked tentatively.

Erik cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just my senses are coming back, and...they’re beautiful.”

“And resilient.”

He laughed and wiped the tear from his face.

“How about I give you some time alone?”

“Thanks, Zaya, that’d be great.”

She bowed her head in deference and went back the way they came. When she was gone, Erik let out a sigh as he took in the sight before him.

“They really made it…”

“Of course, they did. Did you think I would leave my people defenseless?” Bast’s silky voice rang out through the temple, and he turned around to see her standing there in her mostly-human form. She was a statuesque and curvaceous woman with the head of a panther and locs that spilled over her ebony shoulders. Erik dropped to his knees as she walked towards him. “No need for all of that. Stand up, Jaguar.”

He laid eyes on her once more as he rose from the ground. Her glow was almost blinding, but his eyes adjusted quickly.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you in person.”

“Get used to it. I like to pop in on my champions every now and again. Sometimes in dreams, sometimes in your thoughts, and sometimes in person. It all depends.”

“On what?”

“On you and what you need, or what I need from you.”

“Ok, so what do you need from me?”

Bast chuckled. “Truthfully, nothing this time. I just needed to see you face-to-face.”

“You don’t have an assignment for me?”

“Not yet. I know how much you enjoy the sanctuary, so I’ll let you stay there a little whille longer. Plus, you are just now mending your marriage and need time to spend with your wife and child before I call you away.”

“How much time?”

“Enough,” she winked.

“You’re so cryptic,” Erik chuckled.

“Yes, your cousin thinks so, too. However, I prefer ‘mysterious.’”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you long,” she sighed. “You have some party planning to do. They grow up fast, don’t they?”

“Especially when you miss a couple of years,” he murmured.

“Which is why I’m giving you at least a year before I call on you. Make good use of it, Erik.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing, Erik.”

“Yeah?”

“Try running back to the palace,” she winked again as she shimmered away, leaving him alone in the temple.

Erik tried to contain himself as he left the garden and ran into Zaya.

“Was your ‘alone’ time fruitful?” she asked knowingly.

All he could do was beam at her with his megawatt dimpled smile.

“Very.”

Erik said goodbye and ran back through the forest to the city, his heart beating out of his chest in excitement. His superhuman speed carried him back in no time as the wind whipped against his body. A smile was plastered on his face the whole time, even when he slowed down as he reached the outskirts of Birnin Zana. He hurried to the palace as inconspicuously as he could and happened to run into Mira just as she was leaving. When she saw the look on his face, she couldn’t help the grin that took over hers.

“So, how did- Erik!” She squealed as he picked her up and twirled her around with barely any effort.

“They’re back!”

“Your powers?”

“Well, yeah, but the heart shaped herb is coming back!” he peppered kisses all over her face and neck while she giggled. “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you could be.”

“So I take it your vision came back, and you’re super strong again?”

“And fast. I ran here in like twenty minutes.”

“From the CIty of the Dead?!”

“Mhm,” he nodded as he set her back on the ground.

“Damn, baby, that’s...that’s amazing.”

“I need to test them out some more, so I’m gonna see if T has some time to spar. You going to the lab?”

“Shopping, actually. Okoye and Ayo took Imani so I could get some last-minute party stuff.”

“Need someone to carry your bags?”

“Oh, hell yeah. Especially since you got that jaguar strength again.”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

--------

Early that Saturday morning, as the sun crested over the trees, Mira and Erik stood on the tarmac watching as the Royal Talon descended from the sky. Mira was almost shaking with excitement as the doors opened and T’Challa stepped out, followed by some of her favorite people in the whole world.

“Titi!”

SJ ran down the ramp past the king and flung himself into his auntie’s arms. She held him tight and rocked him from side to side as Stef and Ana approached, with Daveed teetering between the two of them.

She looked up at them and gasped, “Oh my god, he can walk now? How long have I been gone?”

“Girl, too long,” Havana complained as she wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law.

Stefan was next to greet her, and his eyes stayed glued to Erik the whole time as he enveloped his sister in a bear hug, “We missed you, Sammy.”

“No, you miss my cooking,” she laughed as she crouched down to say hi to her littlest nephew.

“You remember Titi Mira?” Ana asked him, and he shook his head, hiding behind his dad’s leg.

“That’s ok, we can get to know each other while you’re here,” Mira smiled at him and stood back up.

“Who are you?” SJ asked when he finally noticed the man standing behind his aunt.

“SJ, this is your Uncle Erik. You might not remember him but-“

He thought about it for a moment before it dawned on him. “Do you still have all those bumps on you?”

Stefan tried to hold in his snickering, and Havana hit him in his chest.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Heh, thanks, lil man.”

“So, brother in law…It’s good to see you,” Stef deadpanned. He was clearly not feeling Erik anymore.

“You, too, man,” Erik went to dap him up, and he stared at his hand in contempt.

“Stefan, behave,” Havana said with a roll of her eyes. “Hi Erik, how are you?”

“Much better since I’ve been here.”

“Good, good…”

T’Challa had been standing to the side while the family reunited but decided to intervene when things got awkward.

“Stefan, Havana, let us show you to your quarters.”

“Oooh, our ‘quarters,’” Ana sang excitedly. “Sounds so fancy.”

“It’s a palace, Ana. Of course it’s fancy,” Stef grumbled.

She cut her eyes at him. “Don’t act out in front of company.”

Mira chuckled. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing their playful bickering.

As they made their way through the place, Stef and Ana stared slack-jawed at their surroundings while SJ ran ahead of the group.

“You live here?” Ana asked.

“Mhm. It’s gorgeous, right?!” Mira bragged.

“That’s not even the word…”

T’Challa smirked as he listened to them compliment his home.

“So, where’s the birthday girl?” Stefan asked.

“She is with my mother and Ororo.”

“Ororo?” Stef stopped in his tracks. “Munroe?!”

“The one and only,” T’Challa grinned proudly.

“Holy shit…”

“Language,” Havana chided her husband as she covered SJ’s ears.

“What is it with these men and cursing around children?” Mira shook her head at her brother.

“Girl, I don’t know, but let’s get back to Storm. How’d y’all meet?”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Erik nodded towards his cousin.

“Dang, how’d you get her? I mean, I know you’re a king and all, but- Wait, are you a mutant, too?” Stef asked.

T’Challa and Mira made eye contact, and she nodded for him to continue. They were family and would most likely be seeing a lot of Wakanda, so they’d find out eventually.

“I am enhanced, yes.”

“Like Steve Rogers?” SJ chimed in excitedly from a few feet ahead.

“He wishes,” T’Challa complained under his breath as they stopped in front of the door across from Erik and Mira. Both of them chuckled at the king’s arrogance.

“So...you’re enhanced. Why, though?” Stef asked.

They entered the suite, and the interrogation was cut short when the Greenwoods saw how beautiful their temporary home was.

“Holy shit…” Ana mused as she covered SJ’s ears.

Mira gave them a quick tour while T’Challa and Erik hung back in the living area.

“So, you and Stefan-”

“He never liked me, and I made things worse by disappearing,” he shrugged.

T’Challa nodded as he changed into his suit.

“Oh, so you’re coming all the way out?”

“They will find out eventually, so I might as well get it over with.”

Erik nodded as Mira rounded the corner and saw T’Challa in his suit. She smirked and called SJ. He ran back into the room and froze when he saw Black Panther standing there next to his uncle. Ana was next to round the corner and looked at her son questioningly before she looked up and saw what he was staring at with his mouth open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said with a hand on her hip.

“About what?” Stef came next, and T’Challa’s mask disappeared into his necklace. “This place is insane.”

SJ couldn’t move. He was looking at his favorite hero in the entire world, right there in the place he’d call home for the next week. His mind could barely wrap around what he was seeing, and he couldn’t process his emotions. Tears started flowing down his face, and a sob wracked his body.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok, baby,” Ana crouched down and wiped his tears as Stef came over with Daveed on his hip.

“You’re not excited to see Black Panther?” He asked his eldest son.

SJ shook his head, and T’Challa deflated. Erik kept his snickering to himself, but Mira shot him a look anyway.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“He’s just in shock. It’ll wear off eventually,” Ana said as she brushed SJ’s locs out of his face.

————

It took way longer to wear off than they thought, and by the time they arrived at the party venue in the palace’s botanical gardens that afternoon, he still hadn’t said a word. T’Challa tried to speak to him a couple of times, but he shied away behind Mira or his parents. Eventually, Erik convinced him to give the kid some space and pulled the dejected king away to the other side of the garden. While the other kids and their parents arrived, SJ kept looking at T’Challa out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, he doesn’t bite...or scratch,” Mira leaned in and said to her nephew as she sat down next to him at the kid’s table. “In fact, he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.”

“Does Imani know?” he spoke up for the first time in hours, and Mira was happy to hear his voice again.

“Oh, yeah. He told us when we got here, but it’s a secret so she pinky promised not to tell. You know, I screamed when I saw him.”

“You did?!”

“Mhm. He really needs to learn how to ease people into it, huh?” she asked as she poked at his side, making him giggle. Stef and Ana watched from a few yards away and smiled with him while they kept a watchful eye on Daveed as he waddled around the flowers.

SJ nodded in response, and Mira kissed his temple before getting up and leaving him to ponder her words. Right when he had worked up the courage to speak to his hero, Erik announced that Imani was on her way with Ororo and Ramonda.

“I can’t wait to see my baby girl!” Ana squealed.

Mira excitedly grabbed Erik’s hand, and he kissed her knuckles, making Stef narrow his eyes as he and his family hid behind a mango tree.

Imani appeared with her auntie and future cousin, and T’Challa recorded as she squealed excitedly at seeing everybody. A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, Ade, and all her other friends from school greeted her with a loud “Happy birthday!” The newly five-year-old’s tunnel vision made her almost ignore her parents and other adults completely until Erik picked her up and gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Happy birthday, Cupcake!”

“We have a surprise for you,” Mira sang.

“What is it?” Imani asked excitedly.

Erik set her down and turned her around as Mira motioned for her family to reveal themselves. SJ ran out from behind the tree and nearly tackled his cousin to the ground while her aunt, uncle, and baby cousin took a calmer approach.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Stef exclaimed while his eldest son continued to squeeze her tight. SJ let her go, and she ran into her uncle’s arms. Ana crouched down next to him, and Imani threw her arms around her neck.

“We’ve missed you so much!” Ana said as she fought tears.

“I missed you too. Wakanda is so cool! I can’t wait to show you everything,” Imani babbled.

“Did you know about Black Panther?” SJ asked, still a little nervous about meeting his hero.

Imani nodded, “I promised to keep it a secret, or I would’ve told you. It’s so cool, right?”

SJ nodded, and Imani dragged him off to meet her friends.

Erik couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried as he watched his little social butterfly play with her friends and cousin. It wasn’t until Mira came up and nudged him that he even realized he was staring.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “Just reliving some things.”

Mira looked at him curiously and he continued, “One of the few good memories I have from childhood that we talked about in therapy was my seventh birthday party. This kind of reminds me of that.”

Mira smiled as they stood there and watched Shuri, Ororo, and T’Challa play with the kids. The king regaled them with stories of his adventures, and Shuri let them ride on very slow hoverbikes while Ororo harnessed the wind to lift them up and let them fly a couple of feet off of the ground. The kids were having a ball, and their parents seemed to enjoy themselves as well. Okoye, M’Baku, and a couple other people gravitated towards each other and fell into conversation about being single parents. However, the rest of them spent most of their time ogling the royal family.

Eventually, it was time to eat and the parents were able to corral the kids into sitting down at the table. After stuffing their faces with an array of Imani’s favorite foods, Mira led the “happy birthday” song as she and Ayo carried out a huge Doc McStuffins birthday cake. Imani and SJ were the only kids who knew who she was, but everyone enjoyed the cake nonetheless. Erik couldn’t help the tear that almost came to his eye as he listened to his wife sing to their daughter, just like his mother had done to him. Loudly and slightly off key. Next, Shuri led the group in a Wakandan birthday song, and Imani blew out the huge number five candle in the center of the cake.

Mira kept stealing glances at Erik as he sliced it up and handed out pieces to everyone. He looked so happy. Even when one of the kids tripped and got icing all over his pants leg, he just kept on smiling.

Even Stef noticed the change in his brother-in-law’s demeanor and brought it up to Ana, “He smiles too much now. It’s weird.”

“It’s weird that he’s happy?”

“No, it’s just weird to see. He used to be so…”

“Surly and unapproachable.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Maybe you should get to know him?”

“Hmph,” he grunted in response. Ana decided to leave it alone for the time being and left his side to go talk to Erik.

“You think you can handle the sleepover?” she asked him.

“Thank Bast it’s not all of them.”

“It’s not?”

“Hell no, just her little crew,” he pointed to A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, and Ade. “I’m not taking care of all these kids.”

Ana laughed, “Understood.”

“So...your husband still doesn’t like me, huh?”

“Can you blame him?” Ana deadpanned.

“Nah, I’d be the same way in his shoes.”

“He’ll come around eventually...maybe,” she said as she placed a comforting hand on his arm before being pulled away by her son to watch the Black Panther and Storm show off their powers some more. SJ still couldn’t bring himself to speak to T’Challa, but it was a start.

As the party wound down and most of Imani’s classmates went home, the few that stuck around relocated inside to the Stevens’ suite in the palace. Even with a handful of screaming children in his home, Erik was on cloud nine. He loved to see a smile on his Cupcake’s face, and he wondered if he looked that happy when he was a kid. He concluded he probably did, and as the kids watched an animated movie, he and Mira curled up on the couch behind them. While the rugrats were distracted, he pulled her chin up to plant a kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” she smiled.

“I’ve just been thinking…”

“About what?”

“About making more good memories, you know? Some of the happiest times in my life were times just like this…and time spent with you.”

Mira looked down with a smile on her face and he brought it back up to look in her eyes.

“Marry me again.”

Her eyebrows damn near reached her hairline and a Grinch-like smile crept up her face as she nodded.

“I’d love to.” Next Chapter

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #all for us

72 notes · View notes

nikkoliferous · 4 years ago

Text

Phase One: Avengers (Part One)

With everything being about the LOKI series right now and me dreading it, I figured I'd distract myself by finally posting my thoughts on the Phase One: Avengers novel, which I seem to recall somehow being way worse than the Thor novel? I'm not completely convinced this thing wasn't ghostwritten by Taika Waititi; that's all I'm saying. Anyways, here we go.

(Quick note: please be aware that this overview is significantly Thor-critical. If that sort of thing bothers you, I do not recommend proceeding. You've been warned. Lol)

Let's start off with a friendly reminder that SHIELD had four hours to evacuate before Loki showed up, shall we?

Dr. Selvig read an energy surge from the Tesseract four hours ago,” Coulson was saying.

“I didn’t approve going to testing,” Fury said.

Coulson nodded. “He wasn’t testing it. He wasn’t even in the room. Spontaneous event.”

So either they're grossly incompetent or grossly negligent, but either way those deaths are on them at least as much as they're on Loki. If not more so.

“It just turned itself on?” Hill sounded skeptical. Fury, as usual, was less interested in how they’d gotten there than in what they were going to do next.

[...]

Selvig acknowledged him briefly and then returned his attention to the monitoring equipment. “Director, the Tesseract is misbehaving.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, it’s not funny at all. The Tesseract is not only active, she’s… behaving.”

Fury didn’t comment on the doctor characterizing the Tesseract as female. He also wasn’t interested in Selvig’s notions about its personality. It didn’t have a personality. It was a cube containing energy, and all Nick Fury wanted was to know how to control that energy. “I assume you pulled the plug.”

Fury having no intellectual curiosity explains a lot, tbh. Like how he thinks Loki "kills because it's fun", even though nothing about their prior interaction indicates that. Like, at all. Loki killed only the agents who were attacking him. Because he felt threatened. If he indeed killed for the fun of it, he would have taken them all out and been done with it. Doing so would have both entertained him and made for a much smoother getaway.

“She’s an energy source. We turn off the power, she turns it back on. If she reaches peak level—”

“We prepared for this, Doctor. Harnessing energy from space.”

“We’re not ready. My calculations are far from complete. And she’s throwing off interference radiation.”

Fury watched the Tesseract in its circular containment shell. Eight separate energy sensors built into a frame supporting that shell were designed to measure and conduct that energy. Those sensors in turn rested on stainless-steel support scaffolding. The whole setup sprouted cables and conduits. These were there to supply energy to the Tesseract in a controlled fashion so Dr. Selvig could analyze its reactions. Now they were all shut down, as Dr. Selvig had said, but even so, the Tesseract glowed with a fierce blue energy. It was starting to spill onto the sensors, arcing like electricity. But it wasn’t electricity. It was something much more exotic.

I also find it curious/amusing/something that Fury later accuses Loki of "stealing a force [he] can't hope to control". YOU'RE DESCRIBING YOURSELF, NICK. YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CAN'T CONTROL IT AND HAS BEEN ARROGANTLY PRETENDING YOU CAN.

The man looked up at them and smiled as he stood. He was not a large man, not remarkable in any particular way. He had long black hair and wore black leather clothing, similar to what Fury was wearing. However, he wasn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Fury didn’t know where he had come from.

I beg to fucking differ lmao

Fury had the Tesseract in a steel carrying case and was taking a step toward the door when the stranger turned to him and said, “Please don’t. I still need that.”

Kudos to Loki for not forgetting his princely manners even while completely off his rocker. Lol

“This doesn’t have to get any messier,” Fury said. He glanced quickly around, trying to figure the fastest way out.

“Of course it does,” the stranger said. “I’ve come too far for anything else.”

TELL US WHAT YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH, LOKI. INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW.

“Loki?” Dr. Selvig said. He stood up from helping one of his fellow doctors, who was barely conscious. “Brother of Thor?”

“We have no quarrel with your people,” Fury said.

Loki acknowledged Selvig and then returned his attention to Fury.

By "acknowledged", the author means he rolled his eyes so hard he saw his own brain lmao

“I come with glad tidings,” Loki said. “Of a world made free.”

“Free from what?” Fury asked.

Turning back to him, Loki said simply, “Freedom. Freedom is life’s great lie. Once you accept that in your heart…” As he spoke the word “heart,” he turned and touched Selvig’s chest with the tip of his scepter, just as he had with Hawkeye. Selvig gasped, and the same change came over his face that Fury had seen in Hawkeye’s. “You will know peace.”

He's not simply deranged, you know. For Loki, this is actually true. He has never been free in his entire life, and won't be at any point after this either. Yes, there was also the torture and the mind control at play, but even underneath all that, is it any wonder he was vulnerable to the Thanos cult's brainwashing?

Hawkeye had been looking around the complex. Now he stepped up to Loki. “Sir, Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us.”

Loki looked back at Fury, who said, “Like the pharaohs of old.”

“He’s right, the portal is collapsing in on itself!” Selvig called out from the monitors. “We’ve got maybe two minutes before this goes critical.”

Friendly reminder, once again, that Loki wasn't even aware the PEGASUS facility was on the verge of collapsing—let alone the cause of it.

“Well then,” Loki said. He glanced over at Hawkeye.

Without a word, Hawkeye drew his gun and shot Nick Fury once, dead center in the chest.

Two things:

1) Every time I see this scene in gifs, all I can think of is, "Pull the lever, Kronk." 🤣

2) So how does the direct mind control of the sceptre work anyway? Because Loki never actually gives Barton a command here. So does he sometimes communicate with his minions telepathically (sort of like The Other does with him), or does Barton just intuit his intent here, or what?

Maria Hill saw Hawkeye come out of the lab into the garage with Selvig, a liaison officer, and a stranger carrying a spear. He looked more like one of the people they’d been recruiting into the Avengers Initiative than an ordinary technician or S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. “Who's that?” she asked.

*sigh* In a just MCU, this would have been foreshadowing.

She jumped into a jeep and headed after them. Other S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles followed, filled with agents. They roared along the underground access road that led up to the surface in the New Mexico desert. She was gaining on them and firing as she drove. Sooner or later, she’d be close enough to have a good shot at the stranger.

He had other ideas, though. When he saw the pursuing convoy get too close, he pointed his scepter at them. The tip of it flared bright blue, and a bolt of energy lashed out from it, striking the vehicle in front of Hill and shattering the right side of its passenger compartment. The vehicle slewed around and flipped, rolling and landing sideways across the road. They were blocked.

Interesting of Loki to go for the passenger compartment instead of the driver. Was anyone even sitting there? Just one more example in a long string of Loki being inexplicably merciful to his enemies, I guess. 🤷

They got around ahead of the truck, and Fury leaned out of the helicopter’s side door. He fired, emptying his clip. He could tell from the sparks that some of the bullets had hit, but he was too far away to see if they’d done any damage.

His real target was Loki, but he was protected by the cab of the truck. Fury couldn’t get a good shot at him.

Did Fury already forget that Loki is bulletproof, or...? I mean, I guess that's fair. Earlier, Hawkeye goes to draw his sidearm only minutes after the narration points out that the bullets already fired at Loki had bounced away harmlessly.

Leaning over the truck’s roof and keeping low, however, Loki could get a good shot at the helicopter. A blue bolt lanced out and struck the helicopter’s rotor assembly. All the control mechanisms went haywire, and the helicopter spiraled down out of the sky. The truck drove underneath them as they were about to crash, close enough that Fury could see the gloating expression on Loki’s face.

Haha, good for him.

“Coulson, you know that Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me,” she said.

“Oh, I’ve got Stark,” Coulson said. “You’ve got the big guy.”

Oh, Natasha thought. That big guy. She said something in Russian. It wasn’t polite.

This has nothing to do with Loki. It just made me laugh.

Nick Fury had called an emergency meeting of the World Security Council. They needed to know what had happened with the Tesseract, and they needed to know what he planned to do about it. He brought up holographic images of all the WSC members, with their faces and locations hidden. He did not know who they were, but S.H.I.E.L.D. reported to them.

Well, that doesn't sound problematic at all, does it?

“The Avengers Initiative was shut down.”

“This isn’t about the Avengers.” That wasn’t strictly true, but Nick Fury was no idiot. He wasn’t going to show all his cards to the World Security Council when he didn’t even know who they were.

I'm glad he at least recognizes the stupidity of working for people he doesn't know, but uh... debatable, otherwise. Lol

“This isn’t about personality profiles anymore,” Coulson said. He wasn’t giving up, and that irritated Tony even more than the fact he’d showed up right when the celebration of Stark Tower was supposed to be starting.

*cough*DIVA*cough*

Loki watched Dr. Erik Selvig work, preparing the Tesseract for the next phase of his plan. Technicians and soldiers scurried about on various errands. Loki did not know the details and did not care. They were beneath him. He had his eye solely on the greater prize. It was time to consult with the Chitauri and begin the next phase of the preparations.

Really? You expect me to believe that Loki, the master tactician with "a cunning mind far exceeding Thor and Odin’s", couldn't be bothered to know the details of his own plan? Um, how about no?

Deep space and a field of stars surrounded this rocky world. Pale blue lights glowed where the Chitauri had built their fortress. They gleamed in a set of stairs that climbed to the topmost tower. That was where Loki had made his bargain with the Chitauri: They would be his army and he would open a path to Earth for them. Once Earth was his, and Asgard as well, he would turn the Tesseract over to them.

At least that was what he had promised.

1) Who said anything about Asgard...?

2) Indicator that Loki never planned on actually turning over the Tesseract? I don't know why you'd include this line otherwise.

“Let them gird themselves,” he said. “I will lead them in glorious battle.”

“Battle?” the Chitauri warrior snorted. “Against the meager might of Earth?”

“Glorious,” Loki repeated. “Not lengthy. If your force is as formidable as you claim.”

He had intended to anger the Chitauri, and he had succeeded.

Personally, I saw this less as intending to anger and more as "Loki has no self-preservation instinct and literally cannot help himself". What's to be gained by intentionally pissing off The Other here?

“You don’t have the Tesseract yet.” The Chitauri leader rushed at Loki and stopped just short of him, claws raised. Loki did not move.

“I don’t threaten,” he said, though he was doing exactly that.

LOL

The Chitauri leader backed down but only a step. “You will have your war, Asgardian,” he growled. Then he too decided to make a threat. “If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.”

Loki flashed back into his awareness of Earth. He took a deep breath. The Chitauri did not frighten him… but he would have been a fool if he had not possessed a healthy respect for their leader, the mad Titan known as Thanos. For it was Thanos who had given Loki the scepter, and Thanos who had rallied the Chitauri to Loki’s cause… and Thanos who wished to possess the Tesseract for his own monstrous ends. One did not bargain lightly with Thanos—and one certainly did not fail to meet the terms of such a bargain.

Love how this book just repeatedly glosses over the obvious fact that Loki was tortured. In the first chapter, it makes zero mention of his stumbling or other signs of being weakened. Here, it completely omits the pain WE ALL SAW The Other inflict on him. Fuck this narrator, seriously.

Steve had a moment to look around. The commanding officer appeared to be a woman with short dark hair reeling off orders from near the center of the bridge. “S.H.I.E.L.D. Emergency Protocol 193.6 in effect,” she was saying after a series of status orders and acknowledgments. Steve didn’t know what protocol that was. At the moment, all he knew was that he was on a flying aircraft carrier… and wasn’t that enough? Amazing.

[....]

The Helicarrier disappeared from view. From the inside, it didn’t look any different, but Steve saw monitors from satellite feeds, and on those, the Helicarrier had simply become invisible. He corrected himself: He wasn’t just on a flying aircraft carrier. He was on an invisible flying aircraft carrier. The future was pretty… cool, was the word everyone used now.

I'm not the biggest Steve fan, but I will admit to finding his childlike awe over the Helicarrier slightly adorable. Lol

Side note: is someone on this thing coordinating with Air Traffic Control? I... really hope so.

“What did it show you, Agent Barton?”

Barton turned to look at Loki. “My next target,” he said.

Loki nodded. “Tell me what you need.”

Barton took one his bows out of a case and snapped it into shape with a flick of his arm. “I need a distraction,” he said. “And a biometric ID.”

Why the change from "eyeball", I wonder? Seems random. Lol

Inside, Loki had been mingling with the crowd, taking on the appearance of an ordinary man with a walking stick. But as the president of the museum, one Doktor Heinrich Schäfer, began his welcoming speech, Loki decided it was time to make a dramatic entrance. He tapped the walking stick on the floor and it became his scepter. Immediately, to get the crowd’s attention, he aimed it at the nearest museum security guard and fired.

This... didn't happen?? At all??

Loki strode the rest of the way down the stairs and manhandled Schäfer over to a stone altar that was one of the museum’s prized ancient Norse relics. He slammed Schäfer onto his back, forcing a machine over his face. Schäfer cried out in pain and surprise as the machine shone blinding light into his face, holding his eyes open.

On the one hand, confirmation that Loki did not actually shred this dude's eye and he's probably fine. On the other hand, the author completely made up what just happened literally two sentences ago, so their credibility is a little suspect at the moment. Lol

A police car, alerted by the commotion, raced toward him. He blasted it with his scepter, and it spun out of control and crashed.

ACAB!

The crowd froze. Slowly the crowd knelt, and Loki reveled in their submission. “There,” he said. “Is this not simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.”

He's talking about himself here. We all get that, right?

An old man in the middle of the crowd stood. Loki paused in his speech to regard this individual. Around him, all the copies of himself also looked at this old man.

“Not to men like you,” the old man said.

“There are no men like me,” Loki said.

No lies detected.

But Loki was tougher than he looked. He struck back with the scepter, forcing Captain America to parry until Loki found an opening and slammed the butt of the scepter into Captain America’s midsection, knocking him down. Captain America threw the shield again, but this time Loki was ready. He knocked it aside. It fell ringing to the stones of the plaza, and Loki had the tip of the scepter against the back of Captain America’s neck before the soldier could get back to his feet.

Correction: If he'd actually been trying to win, he would have used the tip. (Narrator: he was not trying to win).

A sudden storm rose around the Quinjet. Natasha looked at the instrument panel. There’d been no warning of heavy weather. “Where’s this coming from?” she wondered out loud.

At first, she thought that Loki was responsible. But that didn’t appear to be the case. He looked more nervous than anyone else on the jet.

Loki has Thor-induced PTSD. Understandable, tbh.

Thor let Loki fall well before they got to the ground.

Because Thor is an asshole.

So hey, as long as we're here, let's review how each member of Loki's family responds to the realisation that he's survived his suicide attempt.

Thor- manhandles him, angrily demands to know where the Tesseract is

Odin- refuses to even use his name, implies he should have either slaughtered him as an infant or left him to die

Frigga- tells him not to make things worse (fucking rich coming from the woman who exacerbated his trauma immeasurably by thrusting the throne upon him when he was at his most vulnerable)

Wild, man. I wonder why Loki's convinced his family doesn't give a shit about him. They seem like such loving people to me.

“I remember a shadow,” Loki said bitterly. “Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss. I who was and should be king!”

Because you would have destroyed Asgard, Thor thought. Just to impress our father, you would have annihilated all the Nine Realms. “So you took the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights? No. The Earth is under my protection, Loki.”

1) Actually, he was trying to save Asgard... from a war that YOU started, numbnuts. He went about it all wrong because he was having a fucking mental breakdown, but at no stage did he even really endanger Asgard, let alone come close to destroying it.

2) Um, what? Where the fuck in Loki's plan was annihilating anything other than Jötunheim? I see Thor shares his friends' impressive conclusion-jumping skills. Not surprising.

3) Thor, I mean this truly and without reservation: go fuck yourself.

Loki chuckled. “And you’re doing a marvelous job with that. The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idly fret. I mean to rule them, and why should I not?”

He... has a point.

“You think yourself above them?”

“Well, yes.”

At least Loki is honest about his condescension, Thor. You should try it sometime.

Suddenly furious, Loki raged at Thor. “I’ve seen worlds you’ve never known about! I have grown, Odinson, in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield it—”

“Who showed you this power?” Thor interrupted. “Who controls the would-be king?”

And he will never bring this up again. Ever.

Stepping right up to his brother, Thor shouted back. “Not here! You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream!” Then he softened. “You come home.”

“I don’t have it,” Loki said. Furious, Thor brought Mjolnir to his hand, ready for battle.

Thor's sort of a one-solution kind of guy, huh? Somebody help me out here, because he's "changed" but his first instinct when he's not getting his way is still to react with intimidation and violence. Funny how that works.

Tony braked and skidded to a halt as the Asgardian rolled away from him, tearing up trees and brush as he went. He got to his feet and extended a warning hand. “Do not touch me again,” he said.

Oh, what's the matter, Thor? Do you not like being manhandled? That's weird because you sure do seem to enjoy doing the manhandling. 😕

“If he gives up the cube, he’s all yours. Until then…” Tony’s faceplate clamped back down. “Stay out of the way.”

He turned to walk back to a place where he could make a clean takeoff. “Tourist,” he muttered.

That was the last straw, apparently, because the next thing Tony knew, the Asgardian’s hammer had hit him about as hard as he’d ever been hit in his life. The force of the blow carried him through the trunk of a tree and laid him out flat in the dirt.

Please note that Thor was not being attacked. He once again used offensive violence against someone who hurt his feelbads. "Changed", my rear.

“Then prove it,” Cap said. “Put that hammer down.”

“Uh, no, bad call,” Iron Man said. “He loves his hammer—”

The Asgardian interrupted Tony by smashing him out of the way with a backhand swing. “You want me to put the hammer down?” he roared, and leaped high into the air, bringing his hammer down toward Captain America.

And again—not in any immediate danger, simply reacting with violence to something that made him angry.

“Oh, I’ve heard. A mindless beast. Makes play he’s still a man. How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?”

“How desperate am I?” Fury echoed. He walked slowly over the catwalk to stand in front of Loki. “You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can’t hope to control. You talk about peace, but you kill because it’s fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.”

This is called 'projection', kids. Projection, and making up stories about your enemies so they're easier to hate. Fury needs to show his work.

Loki knew he had been heard throughout the ship. He could hear the echoes of the speakers, and even if he had not, he always knew when people were listening to him. That was part of his power, to make them listen… and to make each of them hear something just a little different. Just what he wanted them to hear.

This doesn’t mean anything, does it??

Perhaps he was in a cage right now, but he had been in cages before. Not once had one been able to hold him for long.

This... has to be a reference to his time with the Black Order, right? There's certainly no basis for such a statement pre-2011.

Or the author is just on crack. That's very possible.

Thor took a step toward Bruce. “Have a care how you speak,” he warned. “Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard… and he is my brother.”

“He killed eighty people in two days,” Natasha pointed out.

Citation needed, please.

“Well, I promise a stress-free environment. No tension, no surprises…” As he spoke, Tony walked behind Bruce and gave him a little zap with an electrical instrument.

“Ow!” Bruce said.

Tony looked closely at him. “Nothing?” He’d been testing Bruce to see how well he controlled the Hulk. The little shock hadn’t provoked any kind of unusual reaction, which Tony seemed to find a little disappointing.

Ok, but what exactly was Tony's plan if Bruce had Hulked out here? lmao

“Steve,” Bruce said, “tell me none of this smells a little funky to you.”

Cap looked back and forth between the two scientists. Bruce could tell he was struggling with something… but he also wasn’t going to share it. He was too much of a good soldier for that.

🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

“Yeah. I’ll read all about it.”

“Or you’ll be suiting up with the rest of us.”

Bruce shook his head with a regretful smile. “No, see, I don’t get a suit of armor. I’m exposed. Like a nerve. It’s a nightmare.”

Bruce has BPD. Lol

No, you guys don't understand. That's literally what it feels like.

Thor watched over Coulson’s shoulder as the agent showed him S.H.I.E.L.D.’s current files on Jane Foster. When he had learned that Loki had captured Erik Selvig, his first thought had been of Jane. Thor had destroyed the Bifrost to save the Nine Realms, but he had also cut himself off from her… or so he had thought. It was a terrible decision to make, sacrificing love for duty—yet Thor had done it. If necessary, he would do it again. He hoped it would not be necessary, though, and that was one reason why he had asked Coulson about Jane.

Oh my god, Thor. You spent like, three days with her, max. And people call Loki the dramatic one...

Thor looked out into the sky, gathering his thoughts. “When I first came to Earth,” he went on, “Loki’s rage followed me here, and your people paid the price. Now, again. In my youth, I courted war.”

“War hasn’t started yet,” Fury said.

1) Correction: when your daddy threw you to Earth like a sack of trash down a cosmic garbage chute. You were not here on vacation, bro.

2) No, Loki's rage followed your treasonous friends.

3) LAST YEAR. YOUR 'YOUTH' WAS LAST YEAR.

4) *committed mass murder over an insult

“You think you could make Loki tell us where the Tesseract is?”

This possibility hadn’t occurred to Thor. “I do not know,” he said. “Loki’s mind is far afield. It’s not just power he craves. It’s vengeance, upon me. There’s no pain that would pry that need from him.”

1) Opposing Thor = being crazy. Noted.

2) Not everything is about you, buddy. At the risk of repeating myself, this is the guy I'm supposed to believe learned humility? Really? Where?

3) Please note that Thor does not object to torturing Loki because it's immoral or because the thought of hurting Loki pains him. He objects because he doesn't believe it will work.

Thor held Fury’s gaze. It was not the first time he had looked at a one-eyed man who posed him a difficult question. “What are you asking me to do?” he asked, wanting Fury to be clear and to own his words.

“I’m asking what you are prepared to do,” Fury said quietly.

“Loki is a prisoner,” Thor said. He thought Fury was testing him, seeing if he would violate his ideals to find out something they all needed to know. But Thor would not.

"I'm okay with physically assaulting prisoners if they make me mad, but I suddenly draw the line at torture. Even though my 'ideals' didn't appear to be a concern two sentences ago."

If I feel like being generous to Thor, maybe he initially hoped Fury would back off if he just said torture wouldn't work, and then Thor wouldn't have to risk appearing... soft? Weak? I don't know.

“But you figured I’d come,” she said.

“After,” Loki said. “After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate.” It was a typical approach. Cause misery, and then let someone appear as a friendly face. The miserable person would say anything to keep this friend. Loki had seen strong men break this way, many times.

I'm not sure why the author felt the need to depersonalize this by talking about other men. Loki knows this experience intimately. It's what he's endured his entire life at the hands of his "loving" family. The torture just wasn't physical then as far as we know.

An interesting story, Loki thought. She has much to atone for. He could hear some of her memories, from before her first encounter with Barton. Little girl, he thought, you’ve done some very bad things. And now you think you owe Clint Barton your life… but there is more to it. Loki could tell there was something in her mind that he was not quite uncovering. He pushed a little more.

Is... is this text implying that Loki can read people's minds/memories even without touching them?

“Can you?” he asked. “Can you wipe out that much red?” He listed for her some of the things he knew she had done. “Dreykov’s daughter… São Paulo… the hospital fire? Barton told me everything.” This was a lie. Barton had told Loki certain things about Romanoff, but he was also guessing some others.

He... guessed the details of these very specific incidents? What? lmao

He pushed ahead. Now that he understood her, he could break her. “Your ledger is dripping, it’s gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? Pathetic. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are part of you and they will never go away.”

He's talking about himself again. 🥺

For some reason, this book skips right over the part where Loki threatens both Barton's and Natasha's lives. Not sure why; the author clearly has no problem depicting Loki as an unhinged psychopath most of the time. Oh well, whatevs.

Loki couldn’t understand how she had gathered her composure so quickly—and then he did understand. She was a superb actress! Or not even an actress, for he could see through a conscious performance. She was something else. She had been broken down and remade so many times, with so many identities, that she could put them on and take them off at will. And Loki had gotten lost in those emotional costume changes.

He had been outwitted by a mortal. Unthinkable.

Yeah, phew, it's a good thing Natasha figured it out in time. Otherwise, something terrible might have happened—like Bruce Hulking out and rampaging through the Helicarrier. Oh, wait...

“I was wrong, Director,” Cap said. “The world hasn’t changed a bit.” He looked angry and disappointed. Captain America was a big believer in shooting straight and telling the truth. He didn’t like spies and he didn’t like lies, and now he saw he was knee-deep in both.

This novel's hero worship of Steve Rogers is going to kill me. 🙄

“I’d like to know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction,” Bruce finished.

“Because of him,” Fury said, pointing at Thor.

“Me?”

“Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town,” Fury said. “We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned.”

Has anyone figured out yet how this line doesn't conflict with Captain Marvel? Is Fury lying to hide her existence for some reason? Or is this just one of those things that we're supposed to shrug and pretend wasn't retconned?

“A nuclear deterrent,” Tony said. “Because that always calms everything right down.”

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark,” Fury said coldly.

On the one hand, yes, good point. But on the other hand, he... stopped making them? So clearly, he no longer thinks they are a good thing?

And also, not to gloss over his past sins, but wasn't Tony born rich? Lol

“I thought humans were more evolved than this,” Thor commented.

Tony turned on Thor. “Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?”

Didn't Fury say this in the movie? Why did the author give the line to Tony instead? There are all these... weird changes in the story that are so minor I have no idea why the author made them. Very confusing.

Just like that, all of them were arguing. Cap and Tony were nose to nose, while Bruce and Natasha fired remarks back and forth. Thor stood off to the side, contempt plain on his face.

'Cause he also thinks he's superior to humans. 🙃

Tony and Cap squared off over an argument that they couldn’t even remember starting. Tony was still mad about the last thing Cap had said to him… whatever it was.

In case there was any doubt about the sceptre being the reason everyone starts losing their shit with one another.

Cap stood his ground. “Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?”

Tony had an answer ready for this one. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

Hey Steve? You know he invented the suit, right? Like. The suit is literally him.

“Put on the suit,” Cap said. “Let’s go a few rounds.”

Steve putting out big Joe Biden, "listen, fat..." energy here lmao

Thor laughed. “You people are so petty… and tiny.”

Thor, my dude. You literally started a war over being emasculated in front of your friends. I don't think you get to judge other people for being petty.

Fury could see things were spiraling out of control. He started trying to get them all back on track. “Agent Romanoff,” he said, “would you escort Dr. Banner back to—”

“Where?” Bruce interrupted. “My room? You rented my room.”

Nobody had said it out loud, but they all knew the cell currently holding Loki was designed for the Hulk.

What was their plan for containing the Hulk if necessary after sticking Loki in his cage, anyway? Did they even have one?

“Dr. Banner,” Cap said. “Put down the scepter.”

Bruce looked down. He hadn’t even known he’d picked it up.

Why does that sound familiar...?

Even though he could see what was going on, the hostility in the air was still thick enough that Bruce didn’t know whether he could back everyone down… or whether he could back himself down. He could feel tension rising inside him. He could feel the monster trying to get loose.

And yet none of them so much as considers the idea that the sceptre might be having a similar effect on Loki? Ok then.

But even though he was now refocused on the mission, the others still bickered. Loki had gotten into their heads, sowing discord and setting them against each other.

lmao I'd just like to note that Loki didn't actually do anything. This was all them and the effects of just being near the sceptre. #ThanksLoki

“The Tesseract belongs to Asgard,” Thor said.

Why, though?

“I’ll go after it,” Tony said.

“No you don’t,” Cap said, stepping into his way. He wasn’t ready to forget the way Tony had insulted him.

Ok, first of all, you started it. But also, seriously, Steve, that's your number one priority right now? Earth's mightiest heroes, ladies and gentlemen... lol

I have apparently managed to hit the paragraph limit, so we'll return after this short break, I guess. 🙈

↪️ On to Part Two

#there is a lot of salt here please remember to drink plenty of water #loki meta #loki #thor #tony stark #steve rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #nick fury #avengers assemble #mcu #phase one: avengers #thor critical

68 notes · View notes

hysterialevi · 3 years ago

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 21

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT DAY

THRYMR’S TOMB

“They’re here, my lord.” The messenger said from the doorway, awaiting his king’s response.

Kjotve chuckled and lounged in his chair, allowing his feet to rest on the war table before him.

“Of course they are. It was only a matter of time.” He went quiet for a moment, sliding a rock along the blade of his battle-axe. “...Is Gorm with them?”

The messenger’s gaze shifted to the floor. “N-No, my lord.”

The other man didn’t seem surprised. “I expected as much. That boy was dead the minute he allowed himself to fall into their hands. They’ve likely hammered his head on a pike already.” Kjotve sighed and set the rock down, leaning forward in his seat. “No matter. We’ll manage without him. How many people are we dealing with?”

“It’s an army, my lord. Both the Raven and Bear clans are here. They’re attacking the fort from the southern half of the island. Sigurd Styrbjornson is leading the charge. Dag is nowhere to be found though.”

Kjotve nodded to himself, quickly formulating a plan in his head. “He’s probably dead. I knew something was amiss when Dag’s reports came to a sudden halt.”

He rose from the chair and stretched his arms, resting the axe’s hilt on his shoulder. “Tell our men to prepare for war, and make sure everyone is ready. If Sigurd loses this battle, the power of the entire kingdom will shift, and his family will lose their claim to the throne. He won’t accept defeat easily. We’ll have to throw everything we have at him.”

The messenger bowed. “Of course, my lord.”

Kjotve began striding towards the door. “In the meantime, I think I should get a look at this ‘army’ for myself. I’ve never known The Raven Clan to be a formidable opponent, but they’re not an enemy to be underestimated. Keep your eyes sharp, and your axe at hand. This isn’t going to end smoothly.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

THRYMR’S TOMB, SOUTHERN HALF

“Heave!” Sigurd bellowed, his voice towering over all the commotion.

The Raven Clan let out a unanimous shout and rushed forward with the battering ram, gripping the mechanism so tightly that their knuckles turned white. The wooden planks of the bridge groaned underneath their weight as they charged towards the fort, trembling from the footsteps of a hundred warriors.

Meanwhile, the Bear Clan marched alongside them and formed a shield wall around their allies, taking the brunt of any arrows that came raining down from the battlements. A series of thunderous war chants echoed from the sea of raiders flooding the gates, and within moments, they were already bashing it down.

“Heave!” Sigurd commanded once again, urging them to charge. The warriors took a few steps back and pulled the ram into position, holding it in place before letting it swing.

The front of the mechanism immediately broke free from their grasp and soared into the braces holding the gate together, causing an array of splinters to fly from the surface.

A few of the supports could be seen bending in the face of the ram’s power, and by now, a unit of Kjotve’s men had gathered on the other side, preparing to welcome the incoming horde of enemies.

Before Sigurd could carry out a final charge however, the shadows of multiple archers blotted the ground beneath his feet like phantoms emerging from the night, drawing his attention to the line of arrows growing above. He gazed upwards into the sun’s blinding light, and yelled another command.

“Shield wall!”

Upon hearing the order, the Bear Clan instantly got into formation and locked their shields together, creating a shimmering shell above their companions. A wave of arrows came bolting down soon after, and rapidly buried the army below under a hurricane of metal.

A number of Sigurd’s warriors were shot dead within seconds despite their attempt to deflect the attack, and much to his dismay, the battering ram suddenly found itself short of some men. The surviving raiders pushed on with any energy they had left and stepped over the handful of scattered corpses now littering the bridge, bringing the ram one step closer to success.

Taking advantage of the opening that followed the archers’ assault, the Raven Clan drew the ram back to its starting point and awaited their prince’s command, keeping the mechanism raised with a Herculean amount of strength.

“Heave!” Sigurd ordered one last time, signaling his men to rush forward. They tightened their grip and practically hurled the ram into the gate, shattering the remains of the barricade into pieces. Shards of wood violently erupted from the site of impact, and shortly after, the Raven Clan was storming the entrance.

“Find Kjotve!” The prince roared. “And send that argr dog into the jaws of Garmr himself!”

Barreling into the fort with a symphony of war cries, the Bear and Raven Clans began tearing through Kjotve’s men like a legion from Hel, cutting down anything in sight as if the spirit of Thor had possessed their very minds.

The sound of axes clashing rang across the battlefield like the shrill voice of a valravn and colored the air with mayhem, drowning out the agonized shrieks echoing from Kjotve’s army.

Meanwhile, Sigurd took hold of his longsword and jumped into the tempest swirling around him, butchering foes left and right in a haze of fury.

All of his bottled-up rage, grief, and pain came pouring out in every strike, and soon enough, he resembled the man who visited Ingrida in her dreams. His eyes practically glowed with the sparks of a vengeful flame, and it didn’t take long for the god of war to start shining through his actions.

He no longer felt any fear; any doubt. The only thing that guided Sigurd’s axe now was the desire to honor those who had fallen. Thora, Dag, Ulfar, Eirik -- this was for all of them. This was to ensure that their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. This... was for his clan.

“Aarrgh!” A familiar voice shouted, causing Sigurd to glance to his side.

In the distance, he spotted none other than Eivor himself burying an axe into the chest of an enemy raider, baring his teeth like a feral beast on the hunt. His eyes had been pried open by claws of adrenaline, and it was clear from the blood splatters staining his armor that he had already taken down his fair share of Kjotve’s men.

What the young warrior didn’t notice however, was the raider sneaking up from behind him.

“Eivor!” Sigurd exclaimed, dashing in his direction. “Behind you!”

The prince raised his sword in the air and slammed it downwards with an adamant amount of force, practically knocking the enemy’s head right off their shoulders. They dropped to the ground in an instant, and sank lifelessly into the mounds of snow.

Eivor took a moment to catch his breath, still processing the swift chain of events.

“...Thank you, Sigurd,” he said through labored breathing. The older man offered his hand and helped the blonde viking up to his feet, keeping an eye out for anymore men that may have been skulking in his blind spot.

“Don’t mention it.” He flicked his eyes around a bit. “Have you seen any sign of Kjotve?”

Eivor shook his head. “Not yet, and I doubt he’ll reveal himself anytime soon. He’s probably somewhere in the fort, using his men as a shield.”

“Then let’s make sure he has none to hide behind.” Sigurd stepped away from his lover, gesturing to the rest of the battlefield. “I’ll stay here and fight alongside our warriors. You focus on finding Kjotve. We cannot let him escape a second time.”

“Of course. Oh, and Sigurd?”

The prince paused. “Yes?”

Eivor’s expression softened with affection. “...Please, be careful.”

Sigurd returned the sentiment. “You as well, love. I’m not leaving this fort without you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

Sprinting across the reddened snow like a madman, Eivor charged through the war-weathered fort as he searched for Kjotve, trying to ignore all the chaos surrounding him. Everywhere on the battlefield, the young man saw nothing but men and women from both sides falling to their knees in defeat, quivering in the presence of death.

Their anguished cries blurred together in Eivor’s ears, and their bodies began to topple over like trees being cut down. Not a shred of honor or bravery graced the morbid scene before him, and instead of finding glory, he found no more than a desperate desire to cling onto life.

It reminded him of when he was a child. Everything was identical to that horrid night when his parents died, and the sound of Kjotve’s name only enhanced the vividness of the awful memories he carried. He felt like the exact same boy who had fled from that ruined village -- only this time -- there was no one to save him.

He was alone... and so was Kjotve.

Taking a moment to gather his composure, Eivor strengthened his resolve and firmly held onto Varin’s axe, marching directly into the hellish atmosphere ahead. Foes of all sorts blocked his path with a multitude of threats -- including arrows and fire -- but none were enough to scare him off.

No matter how vicious their bite, or how large their shadow, Eivor refused to waver. He had spent so long trying to find Kjotve in this realm of ice and blood, that absolutely nothing would stop him anymore.

He came here to put an end to this war, and he would.

“Where are you, Kjotve?!” Eivor roared, prowling through the embers. “Come out and fight me! I know you’re there!”

Stomping through bedlam, the young warrior wildly swung his axe at the raiders standing in his way and struck them down one by one, stopping at nothing to find the man who had hunted him for all these years. His thoughts raced with the struggles he had endured to reach this point, and the voices of those he’d lost continued to sing in his head, urging him to keep going.

A primitive fear of death wracked the very core of his soul, but even then, Eivor couldn’t bring himself to retreat. A newfound defiance had been bred in his heart despite the dangers ahead, and in a strange way, his fear pushed him further.

“I will find you!” The Wolf-Kissed bellowed at the top of his lungs, lodging his axe into an enemy’s neck. “You think you can hide forever? You’ve taken my home, my parents, my sister, my honor! You no longer have any power over me!”

He carved his way through yet another group of foes and let out a ferocious shout, bashing his axe with so much force that sparks danced off the blade upon impact. By now, there was nothing but a trail of corpses lying in Eivor’s wake, and in the distance, he could see an all-too-familiar silhouette gazing down at him from the battlements above.

They didn’t move a muscle, nor did they say a word. They simply stood there in silence, watching as the tension in their kingdom finally reached a breaking point. The battle-axe on their shoulder was enough to tell Eivor who it was, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop when they made eye contact with each other.

They both knew why the Wolf-Kissed was there. They both knew what he wanted. Even though they had spent decades straying from the fire Kjotve sparked all those years ago, they had finally found their way back to one another, ready to guide this saga to a close.

Strolling away from the battlements, Kjotve turned on his heel and began heading down the stairs, beckoning Eivor to follow him outside the fort. It didn’t look like he had any additional men in his company, and for the first time since their initial encounter, the younger man didn’t get the impression that this was a trap.

They were both eager to bid farewell to this lifelong rivalry. The Nornir had planned for this day all along, and soon enough, the ending to their story would be scrawled in blood. The only question that remained -- was who would provide the ink.

~~~~~~~~~~

OUTSIDE THE FORT

THRYMR’S TOMB, NORTHERN HALF

Treading carefully through the gathering storm, Eivor approached Kjotve from behind as the older man awaited his arrival, quietly taking in the view of the crumbling fort. Despite being outside its walls, the two of them could still hear the sounds of battle seeping through the cracks of its weathered stone, howling from beyond the veil of snow.

It was like a different world out here. Not a single soul disturbed the barren landscape, and the merciless weather had almost wiped out the scene of the war entirely. Only Eivor and Kjotve stood on the icy plates of Thrymr’s Tomb, and if they listened hard enough, they could practically hear the gods calling out to them, whispering in a tongue that evaded their comprehension. They were alone in this place, and somehow, the idea of that brought comfort to Eivor’s nerves.

They had an arena all to themselves, and that was just the way Eivor liked it.

“Here I am.” He announced, stopping in his tracks. The island’s river lay not too far away from him, filling his ears with the sound of rushing water.

Kjotve turned around at the greeting, giving his opponent no more than a glance. “...Here you are.”

The Wolf-Kissed took a few steps closer, careful not to provoke him just yet. “You waited for the enemy with your back turned to them? I can’t tell if it’s courage or hubris that drives you.”

A chuckle fluttered from Kjotve’s lips. “For all your flaws, Eivor, I know how much you value honor. You wouldn’t attack a man from his back.”

Eivor’s brow furrowed in anger. “...But you would.”

“A trait of mine that many look down on, no doubt. And yet, here I am, one step away from conquering the entire kingdom. There is no honor to be found in war, so I don’t bother with it.”

Kjotve took hold of his weapon. “But enough. We didn’t come here for idle chatter. You’re here for one thing and one thing only. Aren’t you, Varinsson?”

Eivor felt something spur inside him at the sound of his father’s name. “...Let’s bring an end to this, Kjotve. Enough running. Enough fighting. Just you... and me.”

“Eager as always. So be it. You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough. I’ll gladly send you to the Corpse Hall. It’s just a shame that you won’t be able to see your father again, isn’t it?” He displayed a small smirk. “The price of honor, I suppose.”

Gripping the hilt of his axe with both hands, Kjotve slowly readied his stance and locked eyes with Eivor, watching him like a beast studying its prey. Meanwhile, the younger man began circling his opponent and held his weapon out in front of him, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The world around them was still with a deathly silence.

It seemed as if the very heavens had come to a halt to witness the grand spectacle, and even the ocean itself had fallen into a trance-like serenity. There was nothing to distract them, or divert their senses, and the battle at the fort had long since departed from their minds.

The gods had finally granted Eivor his chance to reclaim Varin’s honor, and he didn’t intend to waste it.

Lunging forward with a sudden surge of vigor, the young warrior landed a number of blows on Kjotve’s armor before springing back and evading the counter-attack that followed, forcing him to roll across the ground.

He pushed himself off the ice and quickly returned to his feet, whirling around to face the giant striding towards him.

In the blink of an eye, Kjotve heaved his axe above his shoulders and slammed the bearded weapon down onto the snow, missing Eivor’s head by no more than a few centimeters.

The blonde viking jumped to the side and used the opening to swing his axe at Kjotve’s face, causing the blade to slice straight through the lobe of his ear. Blood instantly came pouring down from the wound and onto the fur of the king’s cape, painting the hairs with a vibrant layer of red. A handful of droplets also plummeted to the ground beneath, marking Kjotve’s every move with a fresh trail of blood.

As for Eivor, he carried on with his assault and relentlessly threw one attack after another, refusing to give his enemy the chance to breathe. Unfortunately for him, a man of Kjotve’s stature was not so easily bested, and the Wolf-Kissed soon found himself on the receiving end of a direct hit from the other man’s weapon.

The gargantuan axe bludgeoned Eivor in the stomach and sent him soaring backwards, causing the wind to be knocked out of his lungs. Thanks to his armor, the blade didn’t make contact with his flesh, but he had still been struck with enough force that his abdomen now writhed in pain.

He stumbled for a moment due to the sensation and attempted to regain his footing, only to be kicked back down when Kjotve jabbed the tip of his boot into his gut. The king then proceeded to bash Eivor’s axe out of his hand by punting it from his grasp, allowing it to slide across the frozen terrain.

“Heh,” Kjotve said with a laugh. “Is that the best Varin’s son has to offer? All these years of tracking me down, and you’ve already been rendered defenseless.” He tilted his head in a patronizing manner. “I almost pity you.”

In spite of the soreness now spreading throughout his body, Eivor simply responded to the taunt with a feral war cry and yanked a dagger from one of the sheathes on his back, plunging the blade into Kjotve’s foot.

The king instantly roared in agony and toppled to his knees, unable to ignore the newfound pain now clutching his leg. Eivor tackled him to the ground as soon as he was staggered and climbed on top of him, desperately trying to press the dagger into his throat.

Due to his lighter physique however, Kjotve easily shoved the weapon away from his neck and pushed Eivor off of him with a punch to the cheek, creating a small distance between them. Eivor took this opportunity to retrieve his axe and returned to his feet, assuming his original stance. Not too far away from him, Kjotve did the same -- only now -- he had been cursed with a limp.

“...You won’t kill me that easily.” Eivor panted out, his breath turning into mist. “I’ve fought for too long to let you walk away now. Even if I die for it, this war will end today. You won’t leave this island alive.”

Kjotve sighed and approached the wounded viking, using his axe as a support.

“Ah... just like your mother. Fighting til the very end. An admirable mindset to have, but one doomed to end in futility nonetheless.” He straightened his posture, clenching his jaw in pain. “You’ll fall, Eivor. You, your clan, your king... you’ll all join Varin and Rosta soon enough. And then, Norway will be united under one crown -- mine.”

Trudging in Eivor’s direction, Kjotve carried on with his pursuit despite the injury he had just sustained and prepared to finish the other man off, prowling towards him with bloodlust in his gaze.

Just as the two of them resumed the fight however, a sudden growl reached their ears, leading them to come to a pause. They diverted their attention to the blizzard surrounding them and fell silent, trying to peer through the wintry fog.

For a while, there was nothing. No footsteps, no figures, no movement. Not even a shadow.

The environment appeared just the same as before, and after a few moments of waiting, Eivor began to wonder if the disruptive sound had just been a trick of the mind.

Before his doubts could fully settle in though, the sound of a raven’s caw abruptly pierced through the air, echoing across the land like a summon from the gods. Synin herself emerged from the sky and started gliding down towards her companion, rescuing him just like she did when he was a child.

Perplexed by her arrival, Eivor stared at Synin in shock and watched as she soared over his head, vanishing into the storm beyond. At first, he didn’t understand the meaning behind her intervention or what she hoped to accomplish, but once she departed from the island, it all made sense.

Out of nowhere, a pack of white wolves leapt out from behind the fog and charged towards the barbarian king, allured by the scent of his blood. Their fangs glimmered viciously with ropes of saliva, and their eyes swelled at the sight of their next meal.

“What the--?!” Kjotve exclaimed in surprise, brandishing his axe at them. “Where’d you come from? Stay back!”

Pouncing on Kjotve, the wolves overwhelmed the colossal king in spite of his attempts to fend them off and immediately started tearing at his flesh, thrashing him around like a rag doll. The growing discomfort in his foot caused him to collapse to the ground, and before he knew it, the feral beasts were feasting on him without mercy.

Initially, Eivor felt a sense of relief upon seeing the wolves finish his job for him, but after a while, there was a certain emotion building up in his chest that he just couldn’t suppress. The sheer amount of agony behind Kjotve’s screams was enough to shake him to the core, and surprisingly, he found himself beginning to pity the man.

Eivor hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be attacked by a wolf. Despite the fact that he had carried his scar for over a decade, the terror of that night still remained vivid in his head.

He may have hated Kjotve with every fiber of his being, but even then, it was difficult for him to condemn someone to such a torturous death. Humanity was a trait often lost during war, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to lose his own.

He had come here to reclaim his father’s honor. To restore peace.

The suffering of others was something he wished to end -- and it all started now.

Rushing towards the wolves, Eivor waved his axe at the beasts and threatened them with a series of shouts, hoping to distract them from Kjotve. At first, they merely challenged his actions and growled in response, but were easily scared off once it became clear he wasn’t backing down.

Waiting for them to clear the area, Eivor guarded Kjotve until the wolves disappeared from his sight completely, and kept his eyes sharp for any other animals that may have been roaming around. The wolves didn’t show any signs of coming back to finish their meal, and for the time being, it was just the two of them again.

As for the fallen king, he had been transformed into nothing but the mauled scraps of an abandoned feast, and left in a pool of his own blood. Bits of bone could be seen peeking through his skin, and his hands trembled both out of shock and pain.

Eivor gazed down at the ghastly sight, unable to hide his disgust.

“Your breath hasn’t faltered yet.” He said, admittedly impressed by Kjotve’s survival.

The other man whimpered, croaking out a short reply. “...You... you saved me. Why? D-Didn’t want the wolves... to claim your prize...?”

The young warrior shook his head. “You mistake my mercy for malice. I may despise you for everything you’ve taken from me... but it is not my place to carry out your judgement.”

Kjotve scoffed. “...Then... whose is it?”

Eivor knelt beside his enemy, looking directly into his eyes. “Wherever you go from here, it is the gods who will determine your fate. The only thing I can do... is send you to them. You’ll die as you lived. Without honor.”

He positioned his axe under Kjotve’s chin, eager to finish this once and for all.

“Goodbye, Kjotve. This world will be better off without you.”

Yanking the blade across his throat, Eivor executed the king in one swift move and freed him from his suffering, watching as the life drained from his soul. His body fell limp soon after the killing blow, and a final breath escaped from his lips.

...Eivor could scarcely believe it.

Kjotve was dead.

Kjotve was actually dead.

After countless years of grief, loss, and sacrifice... the war had finally come to an end. Just like that.

There were no cheers of excitement, or horns of fanfare. There was only the deafening silence that had been left behind by the dead.

Was this truly what victory felt like, Eivor wondered? Was this that glorious moment that had been spun in so many tales, and sung by every bard?

He didn’t feel like a hero, nor did he feel any pride. All he felt was a blossom of relief like none other, and the crushing weight of endless regrets.

A beam of contentment was starting to shine in his heart now that Kjotve had officially been slain, and Eivor didn’t wish to spend anymore time on this forsaken island. The only thing he longed for was the warmth of Sigurd’s embrace... but he didn’t even know if the man still lived.

Wandering away from Kjotve’s corpse, Eivor left the king buried in the ice and allowed the gods to take him from Midgard, not even sparing a second glance. A wave of memories flooded his head as he drifted back to the fort, and for just a second, he could’ve sworn he saw his parents watching him from across the river.

Eivor had no doubt that their appearance was merely a result of the battle’s ordeals, but even in his dazed state, he was able to make out the faint figures of both his parents.

They were standing side-by-side, wrapped in each other’s arms and observing Eivor as he made his way back to the clan. They didn’t move, they didn’t speak -- all they did was gaze at him from behind the curtains of snow.

It was almost as if they wished to tell him that their spirits were finally at peace. They had endured a lifetime of torment trapped in Helheim’s depths thanks to Kjotve’s betrayal, and now, they could sleep, forever in each other’s company just as they were in life.

Eivor’s job was done at last, and he could move on from the grief that had burdened him for so long.

“...I did it, father.” He whispered, watching as the mysterious figures faded from his vision.

“You’re free.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #male eivor #eivor varinsson #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

12 notes · View notes

aidemint · 4 years ago

Text

Messenger - Zuko

Word Count: 3.2k !

Warnings: None!

Note: This is a plot I’ve been wanting to try for a while! For the sake of the story, Mai and Zuko broke up indefinitely. As much as I love them, I can’t have things get too “complicated.”

It started as an ordinary day. Perhaps one that began too well. I woke up to the sound of turtle-ducks quacking in a nearby pond as a colorful array of birds lined the canopy, chirping to the melody that the trees gave off when they shook in the light breeze. I yawned and rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands as I woke up from my resting state underneath a large oak. Shaking my head a few times, I blinked and got my eyes to focus on my surroundings, and patted my side to make sure that my bag was still there.

Ah, the familiar feel of leather and sturdy cloth.

After the reassurance, I took the time to stretch a bit before getting up to get ready for the day. The morning procedure was conventional -- extremely so. Brush your teeth, bathe, dry, then scavenge for some food. Berries or nuts weren’t exactly rare to come by anywhere, so it wasn’t hard to find a hearty meal.

A day in the life of a messenger.

Humming as I stripped down, I discarded my clothes, shoving them into my messenger bag, then brought the satchel with me to the riverbed to decrease the risk of theft. The impact of my feet on the ground made the grass quiver and specks of dirt come flying into the air, tickling my soles and upper-ankles. When I finally set my belongings down, I sighed in content and watched as the surface of the stream glimmered, reflecting the sunlight. It certainly looked inviting.

Finally, it was time to bathe.

Shivering as I tip-toed into the cold water, I wrapped my arms around my chest and hoped I didn’t catch some sort of disease. I wasn’t used to such a different climate, as I’d normally opt for some hot springs when they were available, but I was in the valley and didn’t have the time nor the energy to make that trek all the way up the mountain.

I groaned and plunged shoulder-level into the river, feeling the running water push lightly against my figure. The sensation was surprisingly calming, considering that I was initially cringing at how frigid it was. As the edges of my lips upturned and my eyes fluttered shut, my body relaxed and I was able to enjoy the sweet empathy that nature provided me with.

After soaking for what felt like a few minutes, I heard a rustling in the bushes. Assuming that it was either some wayward badger skunk of platypus bear, I paid no attention to it until there came voices from that general direction.

“Zuko, I told you we shouldn’t have come this way. Privacy is a big thing around these parts.” There was an old man and his presumed nephew, wandering around the forest of oak trees and through a few bushes. I couldn’t get a clear view of the uncle, but I noticed a small clearing that the younger boy could step out into for me to peer at him. Hoping that he’d move according to plan, I craned my neck to get a glimpse at him.

“Privacy? In a valley? What, are we gonna run into a couple of naked mole rats?” Once the brunette emerged from his place hidden in the bunches of leaves and into an open spot, I got to recognizing him. My eyes widened and my lips parted, truly not expecting the company. Prince Zuko, the “traitorous” son of Fire Lord Ozai, was in Fengfu Valley, and I was right under his nose. It shocked me how little perception he had of his surroundings. Feeling the urge to laugh, I clamped a hand over my mouth to hide my presence and stooped lower into the water so my nose was right above the surface.

I couldn’t help but want to exploit his careless nature -- it seemed like it would be a lively addition to an otherwise boring morning.

Teasing him would be fun.

“I don’t appreciate being called a mole rat!” I watched on as Zuko shouted in surprise, then sent a bolt of fire my way. Narrowly avoiding it, I swam to the side and watched as the flame dissipated as soon as it reached the spot where I previously resided. Turning my head so I faced him, we locked gazes as I feigned offense.

“Seriously?” When the prince’s face morphed into one of surprise, I burst out laughing, almost getting swept away by the river at the effort. My howls ceased as I stumbled a bit and felt the rapids churn in an attempt to carry me down its bed, but I regained my footing and remained in my original place.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I once again directed my attention to the brunette, who just stood with his hands clasped over his eyes. Snickering at the sight, I slipped to hide behind a bush as I dried myself and put on my clothes. Stepping out into the open once I was finished, I gave Iroh a small salute while walking towards the pair, which he returned with a fond grin.

“You should listen to your uncle more often, friend!” I exclaimed, stopping in front of the Prince with my bad slung across a shoulder, “Don’t come across mindful people in these parts very often. It’s mostly populated with bandits, so most are pretty wary.” Noticing the pair’s interesting Earth Kingdom getup, I raised my eyebrows, impressed with the guise. I didn’t have long to admire their getups, however, as Iroh took the initiative to start a conversation in the midst of my thinking.

“Since we can’t avoid an interaction any longer, we might as well introduce ourselves. My name is Mushi, and this is my nephew Lee. We’re simple travelers, so it’s nice to meet a local from around these parts.” I nodded at him and smiled at Zuko, who still seemed a bit on edge from our unconventional introduction.

“I’m (Y/N). I work as a messenger for the international mailing system. I deliver letters to and from different nations, but I’m stationed in the Earth Kingdom most of the time, helping to run mail through the city, manually.” Iroh, or Mushi, nodded in understanding,

“An honorable profession.” I smiled, then thanked him for his kindness. Glancing at “Lee,” I noticed that he didn’t seem very eager to respond, so I just left him alone and continued to talk to Iroh.

“Well, Mushi,” I began, “Do you have a place to stay?” Iroh was quick to respond, but not without a sudden shift in his demeanor. His shoulders suddenly caved inwards and his eyebrows became furrowed, giving his face a worn, wrinkled look.

“Unfortunately not. My nephew and I don’t have anywhere to go, either.” I bit back a smile at his overbearingly dejected tone and the sudden slump in his posture when trying to evoke some sense of pity from me. Covering my mouth with a hand, I sucked in a breath to calm down, coughing a bit to disguise my laughter.

“W-Well,” I said, clearing my throat, “You can stay at my camp for the time being. I’ll show you the ropes, but you have to hunt your own food.” To my complete and utter surprise, Iroh’s posture and mood had suddenly improved upon hearing this. His eyes seemed to sparkle as a grateful grin spread across his face.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you for your offer.” I waved it off, then beckoned for the two to follow me to camp, where I had a tent set up and a couple of logs for a campfire. Though I didn’t have much, the former General’s reaction made me feel like some kind of saint for agreeing to take care of them out of common courtesy.

Perhaps his methods of persuasion had more of an influence on me than I originally thought.

Evening had come, and Zuko and I were currently out foraging for berries and nuts while Iroh was back at camp, tending to a fire in order to brew some tea and to hopefully get the pot hot enough to be able to cook the nuts.

At the moment, the Prince and I had stumbled across an undergrowth that housed a variety of different bushes and trees, all filled with berries and fruits, respectively. The silence of nature overtook us as we worked to fill the baskets we carried with the bounty -- a sound that was familiar to me, but seemed to be uncomfortable for Zuko, so much so that he decided to pipe up for the first time today.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” I whipped my head around to face him with an amused expression.

“You finally wanna talk, huh?” He sighed and rolled his eyes in the other direction, setting his basket down, but not knowing what to do with his hands. Curling them into fists, then letting go again, the cycle repeated for half a minute before he found the right sentence to say.

“I’m usually not this awkward, I promise,” he commented, rubbing the nape of his neck. I laughed, noticing the Prince’s bright red face, flushed from embarrassment.

“I can tell,” I replied, digging into a bush and pocketing some wild blueberries, “So don’t worry too much about it. I don’t mind the silence -- I hear it all the time.” He stiffly nodded and picked up his basket again to collect some pears from a tree overhead.

“Thanks.” The world then went silent for a few minutes until Zuko spoke again, his voice more relaxed this time around.

“And sorry about the naked mole rat thing. I didn’t really expect anyone to be there.”

“Don’t sweat it. I wouldn’t expect a naked person to be in a river in the middle of a valley either.”

“Okay… thanks.” I chuckled quietly to myself, finding hilarity in how uncoordinated Zuko seemed to be in the realm of speaking. It was almost endearing.

After a good twenty minutes had lapsed, it was safe to say that both of us had deserved a break. As I plopped down onto a moss-covered section of the floor, I patted the ground next to where I sat, motioning for Zuko to rest alongside me.

“Sit down with me, Lee.” He hesitated for a moment, but ended up sitting next to me anyways. While we rested, I admired the way the canopy of the forest blocked the sunlight, so that the rays would cast themselves in dappled patterns across the ground. Fluttering my eyelids shut, I took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, enjoying the forest’s energy and the rejuvenating effect it had on my spirit. As I opened my eyes to see the world again, I sighed in a mix of disappointment and appreciation. The tranquility was pleasurable, but always too brief.

I didn’t notice Zuko until I felt his hand nearing my bag, to which I responded to with a sudden pull away, not letting him even graze the satchel. He seemed alarmed by this, as his eyes immediately went dark and his body tensed up. Panicking as I noticed this, I tried to explain as quickly and as simplistically as possible.

“People’s letters are in there,” I said, “I can’t let you touch them without a license. It’s illegal.” Zuko glowered at me. His eyes bore into mine, golden, glaring irises seeking the truth in the myriad of lies. He leaned in closer to me, his scowl deepening.

“There is no need for mailing by foot in the Earth Kingdom. They have their own postal service with the rock cart system.” I sucked in a sharp breath as I prayed that he wouldn’t connect the dots, as hopeless as my wish was.

Zuko pointed at my bag.

“Those aren’t really letters, are they?” The prince’s question challenged me, yet it was laced with so much hidden curiosity and an element of certainty pounded into each and every word. I sighed as I realized that the jig was up. I had to tell him the truth, or he might become unstable and try to pull something with me. Taking out the envelopes, I unwrapped them, then showed the Prince the contents inside.

“You got me,” I admitted, handing Zuko the sheets of paper I held in my hand, “They’re not letters.” The brunette’s eyes scanned over the folio, gradually widening in disbelief. Once he was done reading, he handed the documents back to me and looked at me with such incredulity.

“What are those papers?” he demanded, “They have the Fire Nation seal on them.” I shrugged indifferently while putting the sheets back into their envelopes.

“They’re stolen Fire Nation Official documents,” I responded casually. The Prince seemed so caught up in this order of business, while I admittedly did not want to continue this conversation for much longer. His infatuation irked me, but it was natural, given his background, so I had no other choice but to endure it.

“How did you even get them?” he demanded, “Who are you?”

“I should be asking you the same question, Prince Zuko,” I snapped, not willing to take any more of his attitude. He looked taken aback yet flustered at the same time. I assumed that he didn’t realize that someone would recognize the guy with a very noticeable scar on his face. I scoffed at the thought.

“Do you really expect me not to know who you are, Mr. ‘Esteemed Prince of the Fire Nation?’” He grew increasingly bewildered, looking at me as if I had two horns growing out of my head, and as if he wasn’t the son of the most notorious tyrant in all the four nations. “Sure, most people in the Earth Kingdom have no clue who you guys are, but I might have a clue, you know? Given the documents and everything?”

“But why… How did you even get these?” Zuko stammered, “This is classified information.”

“I looted them from Fire Nation officers.”

“Why-” he began, “Why are you-” As he looked to me for some form of help, I motioned for him to continue thinking on his own. He furrowed his eyebrows and kept at it. A few moments later, something seemed to click inside his mind.

“You’re…” Realization dawned on Zuko as his expression morphed into one of vulnerable understanding. “You’re part of the Resistance. Against the Fire Nation.”

“Bingo.” He furrowed his brows and brought a hand up to point at me following my confirmation.

“You’re the one responsible for the missing contract for the Huo act.”

“Yeah.”

“You stole a cart filled with bills that lowered the minimum age for recruited soldiers.”

“Mhm.”

“And the papers for Baron Hu Jiao’s coal mines.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re-”

“You’re making me sound like a saint here, Zuko,” I interrupted, chuckling, “I’m just doing what any normal person would do in the face of tyranny.” He paused, creased his eyebrows and slightly pursed his lips, then looked away, as if contemplating some serious matter. I cocked my head and laughed softly at the sight, entertained by the Prince’s reaction to my words.

“You seem confused.” I turned to him. “Is there anything you want to ask me?” He huffed, contorting his face into an expression that was strangely reminiscent of one at a loss for words, though he spoke after my inquiry.

“Why did you even join the rebellion? Why would you risk your life for something so… so dangerous? So...” I felt a burning sensation in my chest as Zuko’s breath ran out before he could finish. He made no attempt at restating his two-word sentence, feeling as if it was best to just leave it there, as is. I sighed.

“Were you going to say futile?” Zuko scratched his head and nodded. I huffed.

“Why do people join the army, then? Just to die in trivial combat?” I challenged coyly, the edges of my lips curling into a smirk, “Why do people join task forces if they’re not worth fighting for?”

“Because they’re forced to.” The prince’s tone was cold. His words were hardened by some experience I knew not of, and it was only then I realized that I had been wrong.

I folded my hands in my lap and spoke in a much quieter voice from there on.

“I apologize.” Zuko paused for a moment to recollect himself, taking a deep breath in and letting it gradually come out.

“It’s okay.” I smiled at his comment.

“Do you want to hear more of my story? Of the resistance?” Zuko hummed.

“Okay.”

“I only knew of the Resistance from the propaganda that was set up in the middle of the Capitol. I’d see the faces of those men and women and wonder what they had done to earn their titles as ‘savages,’ ‘freaks of nature,’ and ‘traitors.’ I’d always ask about them. But I’d always never get an answer.

“The first time I ever had personal contact with them was after my fathers perished in the army. I went through a lot of grief, in the early stages. I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t socialize, probably because of the trauma. When nobody wanted me, when the Fire Nation threatened to kick me out for not being a valuable citizen, they took me in. Treated me well, taught me a lot of things that I’d originally been brainwashed to ignore by propaganda. They gave me hope and a reason to live. It was more than I could ask for, at the time.

“And I realized what I wanted. I knew that I wanted out of this dystopian society so I rebelled against it. I stole papers and caused as much of a ruckus as I could, fueled by this opportunity for revenge. I wanted to tear the place down.” I laughed sadly at the thought.

“But, as you said, it’s futile. I can’t go against so many people. None of us can. The numbers have always been dwindling.” I looked down, at the forest floor, embarrassed to admit the notion. “But we try.” The soft sounds of crickets chirping in the grass were the only noises that could be heard when I finished talking. Zuko just sat there, seemingly dumbfounded by the information that was relayed to him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he spoke, awkwardly glancing at my face, trying to morph his features into an expression of comfort. I chuckled at his behavior.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Quietness settled in the atmosphere once more after I uttered the last phrase. I tilted my head up at the sky and admired the blend of colors it had become. Lavender hues mixed with vermillion tints to create a wondrous sight to sit under and enjoy.

Zuko and I sat together for what seemed like forever, simply enjoying each other’s company.

After the purple and red sky had passed and the stratosphere held a darker red and orange coloration, I decided that it was best to haul ass and go back to camp based on how little day we had left. I offered a hand to Zuko, helped him stand up, and picked up my basket, preparing to go back to camp. The brunette did the same with his basket and started to follow me back.

“Thank you for listening,” I suddenly said, turning to face him, “It’s been a long time since I could open up to someone like this. I really enjoyed this evening.” Zuko’s expression remained indifferent, but there seemed to be a new, small glitter within his irises.

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips lifted just a bit. “I did too.”

67 notes · View notes

chimchimsauce · 4 years ago

Text

XS (V - Honesty)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Yoonji doesn't say anything as she helps YN out of her dress and YN isn't sure if she feels relieved or even more terrified. On one hand, she's grateful for the silence, not wanting to be bombarded after such a stressful encounter. But on the other hand . . . Yoonji doesn't say anything to imply that things will get better or that Taehyung - the man who is to become her husband in just a few short hours - isn't as violent and terrible as he seems.

"Yoonji," YN begins as the other woman begins to run a tub of warm water in the beautiful bathroom, "Can you be honest with me?"

Yoonji doesn't turn away immediately, instead finishing her task. When she turns to YN, her face is blank.

"Honest about what?" she asks, helping YN undress entirely.

YN wants to be embarrassed but she doesn't have the energy to.

"What is my life going to be like?" she asks, wincing as she steps into the bathwater.

Her stomach hurts like crazy and she will absolutely have an ugly bruise in a few days.

Yoonji scoops a pitcher into the milky water, pouring it over YN's head. YN coughs, choking on the unexpected water.

"Do what he says and you'll be fine," Yoonji says, unbothered by YN's coughing, "As long as you do what's expected of you, he won't hurt you . . . probably."

Yoonji dumps water over YN's head again and the woman leans forward, trying to get away from Yoonji's grasp.

"Stop moving," Yoonji says, poring some product into her hands and raking it through YN's hair.

YN wipes her face, water clinging to her eyelashes. She can't help but think that Yoonji is upset at her for some reason. Her stomach twists uncomfortably. YN had been hoping that in the very least she'd have someone who didn't terrify her to keep her company but it seems like that won't be the case.

YN sniffs, lungs hurting from all the coughing. Her eyes tear up and she can't tell if it's from pain or emotional distress. She doesn't ask any more questions as Yoonji scrubs her down with brown sugar and massages oils and cocoa butter into her skin. Yoonji dresses her in a silky nightgown and leaves her alone, closing the door with a simple "Good luck."

YN sneaks out of the bed and tries the door but to no one's surprise, it's locked. Sighing, YN crawls back into bed, grabbing one of the down pillows and cuddling it close to her. She wonders how her parents are doing. Are they okay? Were they able to clean the kitchen? Have they buried the family dog yet?

But most importantly, did Taehyung keep his word? Are they still alive?

YN's grip on the pillow tightens. She feels no peace, no ability to fall asleep. All she can do is stare at the ceiling, the hours passing by in the blink of an eye and no time at all.

Before she's ready, the lock on YN's door clicks and swings open, and a procession of women in the same simple uniform Yoonji wears file in.

"Good morning, Madam," one of the ladies says, "Master Taehyung has sent us to prepare you for your wedding."

YN just blinks at them, sighing. When it's clear that YN isn't going to move on her own, one of the other ladies moves to her bedside and pulls the cover off of her frame. Someone brings a silken robe and glides it over her skin, tying it tightly around her waist.

YN winces as the silk digs into her sore spot but no one notices. They all crowd around her, bringing her into the massive closet and sitting her down in from of a giant vanity. They buzz around her like worker bees, discussing lipstick colors and hairstyles with fervor. YN doesn't pay them any attention, doing to her mental happy place.

In her head, she's back at university, studying for her degree and blissfully unaware of just how cruel the world can be.

The women move her face side to side as they pluck and wax and moisturize before applying what feels like a pound of makeup to her face. A few of them work on a manicure and pedicure while one picks out some lacy lingerie.

"Oh, Master Taehyung picked a beautiful one," the main lady says.

"You're so lucky, Madam," a different one says, "Master Taehyung is so handsome. Money, power, and good looks? What more could a girl want?"

She is dusting eyeshadow over YN's eyelids with a featherlight touch. It would be relaxing if YN wasn't about to marry a psychopath.

"Would you like to take my place then?" YN says before she can stop herself.

Bitterness overflows as they talk about YN's upcoming marriage as if she's a princess who's fallen in love with a charming prince.

The women fall quiet and an awkward silence blankets the room. YN opens her eyes and looks into the mirror, locking eyes with a very unamused Taehyung. He's hovering in the doorframe with a deadly look on his face. He stalks deeper into the room and places a hand on YN's shoulder, his expression brightening up as he looks at his workers.

"I love YN's sense of humor," he says, chuckling, "Isn't she so funny?"

Everyone joins in with superficial laughter but YN is petrified with Taehyung's hand on her. He doesn't squeeze or dig his nails into her as she expects but she doesn't trust him whatsoever.

"Would you mind leaving me alone with my fiancee for a few moments?" Taehyung says, "I want to say a few words to her before the wedding."

Despite the pleading look in her eyes, all of the women leave the two of them alone, even going so far as to shut the closet door behind them.

Taehyung lifts YN's face to look at her, reveling in the look of terror in her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, YN," he says, "When you stupidly burst into your parents' kitchen like a fool, I just knew that I wanted you. You're going to be so fun to destroy."

His touch is deceptively gentle.

"Why are you doing this?" YN asks, unable to look away from his deep gaze.

"Because I can," he says, "Because you don't want this. Any of the women affiliated with this gang would bend over backward for the position you're about to be forced into and yet here you are, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. What's life without a challenge?"

"I hate you," YN snaps, "I'll always hate you."

"That's perfectly fine by me, darling," Taehyung says, "Hate me as much as you want. Love doesn't exist here. As long as you do as I say, I don't care what you feel. As long as you know that you're mine, you can let your little heart turn black with hate."

He sinks his teeth into the lobe of her ear, causing YN to wince. He pulls away, a cocky look on his face.

"Piss me off and you know what happens. But don't worry, I'll never hurt you somewhere where other people will see."

He pushes away from the vanity and begins to walk back out of the closet.

"I'm sure you'll look beautiful in the dress I picked out, YN. I'll see you at the alter."

Taehyung is gone as quickly as he came and the annoying workers are back again, this time notably less chatty than before. They finish up her makeup and hair, smoothing away the small mistakes Taehyung had implemented and don't give her a stitch of privacy as they tie and buckle her into the most uncomfortable lingerie she's ever seen. The dress they pull out of a garment bag is not her taste whatsoever but she doesn't say anything. In a way, she's kind of glad. This wedding has nothing to do with her. All of her childhood fantasies seem a million miles away from this disaster.

The dress doesn't even fit. It's at least a size and a half too small but that doesn't stop them from shoving her into it, pulling on the laces until she can barely breathe. She can't even bend over to pull her shoes on.

Jungkook appears when they are all finished, wordless and stoic. He leads her out of the room and through what feels like a million hallways, YN's feet hurting in the incredibly tall heels she was put into. YN tries her best to memorize the map for future use (or maybe escape) but she gets so confused that she gives up. Something tells her that it's exactly what Jungkook was going for.

Surprisingly, they don't end up in some gigantic room in this mansion. Jungkook takes her to a garage, assisting her into the backseat and sitting beside her.

"Where are we going?" YN asks.

Jungkook doesn't answer.

For a moment, YN considers jumping out of the car. She knows she wouldn't even make it to the door before Jungkook snatches her. YN's eyes flick up to the front seat and she notices that the man driving is the same one as from before. She doesn't know his name but she doesn't have anything else to look at so she finds herself studying him through the rearview mirror. Unlike Jungkook who looks tough and stoic with his filled out form and dozens of tattoos, the driver looks soft - nearly pretty.

YN wonders how he ended up here. Is he just another wolf in disguise? Or maybe he's here in a similar situation to her, working off debt with labor.

As if he feels her eyes on him, the driver lifts his gaze and smiles at her ever so slightly, the very first inkling of kindness anyone has given her since this nightmare started. YN returns it, a small smile gracing her face.

The car pulls over in front of a small church, something much more subdued than she would have expected given the ridiculous place Taehyung and his family live in.

Jungkook helps her out of the car with an iron grip, preventing her from bolting. There's a small waiting room inside and a single woman in uniform is waiting for her with a beautiful bouquet that she shoves into her hands.

"Don't fuck up," Jungkook says again.

The church doors open.

Chapter Six

Want to read chapters early? Check out Early Access or Patreon

Tag List

@dorerenjun @veronawrites @nervouskiwi @tatastaetae @naaji @sunshinechim-98 @hopefilledtrash @heystobitbeach @queensavage1245 @kofikats @lilacdreams-00 @naajix

#yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere taehyung #bts mafia au #bts gang au #bts angst #taehyung is a fucking narcissist

129 notes · View notes

thelittlesttimelord · 3 years ago

Text

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 9

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 9 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 9/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

“In the contest for the golden arrow, after ten rounds, the battle is betwixt our Lord Sheriff and the stranger known as Tom the Tinker!”

Robin stepped forward and the crowd cheered.

“Take your places!”

“Shall we make the contest a little more interesting, my Lord? The targets seem a little close. What say you? Another twenty paces?” Robin asked the Sheriff.

“Why not?”

The target was moved further back and the Sheriff fired a black arrow from his bow. It hit the bullseye.

“Now, Tinker. Let us see thy true face,” the Sheriff said.

Robin’s white arrow split the Sheriff’s.

“Ye Gads! He has split the arrow! Truly, he is the finest archer in all England. Come forward, Tinker. And claim your prize!”

Before Robin could grab the golden arrow, a multicolored feather split Robin’s.

Elise rolled her eyes, although she was rather impressed.

“He still loves showing off, doesn’t he?” Clara asked.

“I'm the Doctor. My skills as a bowman speak for themselves. I claim my reward.”

The herald knelt and the Doctor took the golden arrow. “A mere bauble.” He tossed it to the side. “I want something else.”

“Name it,” the Sheriff said.

“Enlightenment.”

Robin split the Doctor’s arrow with another one of his. The Doctor fired an arrow that ricocheted off the armor of a guard and split Robin’s. Robin fired an arrow without looking and split the Doctor’s arrow.

There was something stirring in the back of Elise’s brain. This situation was familiar to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She knew the memory was there, but her brain wouldn’t let her access it.

“This is getting silly,” the Doctor grouched and pointed his sonic screwdriver at the target.

It went up in a fiery explosion.

“Fascinating. Seize him!” the Sheriff ordered.

Three knights drew their swords, while Clara grabbed what looked like a spear and tried to swing, but it was obviously too heavy for the small brunette.

“What are you doing? Put that down!” the Doctor told her.

“I'm fine. I take Year Seven for after school Tae Kwon Do.”

Robin ran over to their small group. “Don't worry, fair lady. I'll save you.”

It took a moment for Elise to realize he was talking to her. “Hold on! I don't need saving!”

“Your honor is safe then.”

“My honor?”

Clara hit Elise lightly on the arm. “He’s flirting with you!”

“By implying I can’t take care of myself? I’m a Timelord.”

“Well he doesn’t know that!”

Robin whipped off his hat and everyone cheered. “For I am Robin. Robin Hood!” Robin sliced off one of the knight’s arm, but instead of blood spurting from the wound, it sparked.

The Doctor ran over and picked the arm up. “Robot.”

The knight’s visor opened to reveal a metal face.

“Now we're getting somewhere.”

“Take them. Kill the rest. Kill them all!” the Sheriff ordered.

The robot knights fired energy bolts from their forehead.

“He surrenders!” the Doctor yelled.

“What?” Robin asked.

The Doctor knocked Robin’s sword from his hand.

“You miserable cur. I had them on the run. Flee, lads, flee! Live to fight another day!” Robin yelled to his Merry Men.

“To the dungeons with all of them,” the Sheriff said.

The knights grabbed them.

“What are you up to?” Clara asked.

“Quickest way to find out anybody's plans, get yourself captured,” the Doctor told her.

Elise scoffed. “We always end up captured.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They were taken to the castle dungeons.

Again, this situation felt too familiar to Elise, but the memory wouldn’t come to her.

The four of them were chained to posts in the room.

Clara and Elise were chained to one together.

“Splendid. Enchained,” Robin complained.

“Yep,” Clara said.

“Trussed up like turkey-cocks. Thanks to your friend.”

“Shut it, Hoodie. I saved your life,” the Doctor snapped.

“I had the situation well in hand.”

“Long-haired ninny versus robot killer knights? I know where I'd put my money.”

“If you had not betrayed me, I would have been triumphant.”

“You would have been a little puff of smoke and ashes.”

“Oh, ha!”

“You'd have been floating around in tiny little laughing bits in people's goblets.”

“Balderdash. Ha!”

“Oh, right, here we go. It's laughing time.”

“Well, you amuse me, grey old man.”

“Guard! He's laughing again! You can't keep me locked up with a laughing person.”

“Oh, I find that, I find that quite funny. Do you know, I feel another laugh coming on. A-ha-ha-ha!”

“Guards, I cannot remain in this cell. Execute me now.”

“If you two keep it up, I’ll execute you both!” Elise yelled at them, but the two men ignored her.

“You heard him. Execute the old fool.”

“No, hang on. Execute him.”

“I do not fear death, so execute away.”

“Execute him. I'd like to see if his head keeps laughing when you chop it off!”

“Oh, Robin Hood always laughs in the face of death.”

“Yes, rolling around the floor laughing, I would pay good money to see that.”

They both started yelling for the guard.

“Will you two, shut up!” Clara yelled, “Do either of you understand, in any way at all, that there isn't actually a guard out there?”

“Oh,” the Doctor said.

“I did, in fact,” Robin insisted.

“No, you didn't.”

“I said, shut up,” Clara snapped, “The Doctor and Robin Hood locked up in a cellar. Is this seriously the best that you can do? You're determined to starve to death in here squabbling.”

“Well, I'll tell you one thing. I'd last a lot longer than this desiccated man-crone,” Robin said.

The Doctor snorted in amusement. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, you know what? I think you'll find I have a certain genetic advantage.”

Clara yanked on the chain attached to his wrist.

“It is not a competition about who can die slower,” she told them.

“It would definitely be me, though, wouldn't it?”

“There was supposed to be a plan. Do either of you two have a plan?”

“Yeah, of course I have a plan.”

“I too have a plan,” Robin said.

“Okay. Robin, you first,” Clara told him.

“Why him?” the Doctor asked.

“Doctor, shut up. Robin, your plan.”

“I am biding my time.”

“Thank you, Prince of Thieves. Last of the Time Lords?”

“Yes, I have a plan,” the Doctor said.

“Can you explain your plan without using the word sonic screwdriver? Because you might have forgotten the Sheriff of Nottingham has taken your sonic screwdriver, just saying. It's always the screwdriver. Elise, you got anything?”

Elise sighed. “No. There’s nowhere to put my screwdriver in this dress.”

“You used to have a holster for it,” the Doctor said.

Elise’s eyes widened. “I what?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Never mind. Let's hear Robin's plan first.”

“Oh, for God's sake,” Clara groaned.

The door opened.

“See? There was a guard. There was guard listening the whole time, I knew it. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Robin said.

The guard was a man with no teeth, only rotten stumps. “The Sheriff himself commanded me to listen, to find out which of you is the true ringleader.”

“Ah, so he can do the interrogating. Very wise,” the Doctor said.

“Excellent. He will get nothing from me,” Robin insisted.

“No, no, no, no. no. He will get nothing from me, because interrogation, that's where I always turn the tables. You see, that's my plan.”

“Just hurry up and take me to him.”

“No, no, chop-chop, come on.”

The guard unlocked Clara’s chains.

“Seriously?” Clara asked.

“Come on,” the guard said, pulling her along.

“Take your hands off her!” Elise yelled, “Oi! I’m talking to you!”

“No,” the Doctor breathed.

“What are you doing?” Robin asked.

“Don't be ridiculous!”

The door slammed shut.

“If something happens to her, I will never forgive you,” Elise told her father.

“Clara will be fine.”

Elise laughed.

“What?” the Doctor asked her.

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s just…reminds me of the Pandorica is all.”

“The first time you spoke. ‘Course I’d heard you speak before…”

“Before what?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Robin said, “I need you to moan.”

“I'm sorry?” the Doctor asked.

“Beat your breast. Moan. Groan as though twenty devils possessed your guts.”

“What for?”

“So as to attract the attention of that gargoyle-faced guard.”

“It's your plan. You moan.”

“No, no. No, it won't work.”

“Why?”

“Oh, because you're clearly more advanced in years and you have a sickly aspect to you.”

“I have a what?”

“You're as pale as milk. It's the way with Scots. They're strangers to vegetables.”

“Oi!” Elise snapped. She would not stand by and let him insult the heritage of the woman who influenced this regeneration in both herself and her father.

“I'm not moaning. You moan,” the Doctor told him.

“Fine. If you want something doing...” Robin moaned loudly. “Can I rely upon you to do the rest?”

“Yes, yes, I know the drill.”

“What is this din?” the guard asked.

“No business of yours, cur.”

“Speak up. I can't hear you,” the Doctor muttered at Robin.

“What ails him?” the guard asked.

“None of your business.”

The guard entered the cell. “I said, what ails him?”

“Well, if you must know, he's having a nervous breakdown.”

“A what?”

“He's like this whenever he's in any kind of danger. He just can't seem to cope. He gets so afraid. He goes into a kind of fit. I honestly believe that he may die of sheer fright, like some tiny, shivering little mouse. Oh, God, I think he's soiled himself.” “Let him die. It will save us the trouble of executing him.”

“And what will happen to the reward?”

“Reward?”

“Oh, God, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Tell me!”

“He carries a vital message. The Prince has promised a bounty.”

“A big one?”

“An enormous one.”

Robin mumbled something.

“What’s that? Say again?” the guard asked. He leaned in towards Robin.

“Come closer. Your breath stinks like a serpent, has anyone ever told you that?” Robin head-butted the guard, knocking him out. “Soiled myself?” Robin asked the Doctor.

“Did you? That's getting into character. Okay, keys.”

The two of them started fighting over who was going to get the keys.

“I'll get them.”

“No, no. I'll get them.”

“I'll get them. I'll get them.”

“I'm fine, no, no worries. I've got them!”

“I've got them! I'll get…”

They ended up kicking the keys down a drain.

Elise groaned and slammed her head into the post. At this rate, they were never getting out.

“Well, there is a bright side,” the Doctor said.

“Which is?” Robin asked.

“Clara didn't see that.”

#Twelfth Doctor #twelfth doctor imagine #twelfth doctor fanfiction #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #clara oswald #clara oswald imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: the new doctor #robots of sherwood

14 notes · View notes

the-sympathetic-villain · 4 years ago

Text

You Belong With Me - Chapter 34

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.

Word Count: 6972

Chapter Warnings contain major spoilers so they’re at the end of the post, but please scroll down to check them if you need to! This chapter gets a bit heavy <3

Logan inhaled slowly as he cast one last glance down the empty corridor behind him. He could feel Dee's impatience growing behind him as he took another step towards the fae's cell. Still, he felt himself pause, subconsciously doubting his choices as he turned to to face the wall outside Dee's cell. A dim, amber light fell from the small sconce burning on the wall to his left. He quickly reached up to the thin torch, wrapping his fingers around the wooden base. With a light shove, he dislodged the lit torch from its holder and turned to step through into the grey light of Dee's cell.

He slowed, holding the torch out in front of him as he ducked through the doorway. He turned his body, edging carefully along the back wall, scanning the cell in front of him to catch sight of Dee's shadowy figure. The hairs on the back of his neck started to raise as continued to search the dim cell for the hostile fae. He barely kept the fear that his enemy had escaped at bay with the knowledge he’d heard the man's voice only a moment before. Logan could feel his energy. He had to be here.

Finally, his heart jumped in his chest he caught the subtle glimmer of his torchlight reflecting in Dee's eyes at the back of the cell. Logan straightened upright with a questioning glance. Dee’s restraints appeared to be pulled taut and Logan could only guess the fae was as far back into the cell as the chains would allow. Logan continued to hold the torch out in front of him, crouching defensively as he quickly glanced up and down at the thin silhouette standing in the dark abyss of the back of the room.

“Well, well,” Dee's dry laugh sent chills down Logan’s neck. “I almost didn’t think you had enough of a spine to ditch the prince's lap dog—”

“Don't.” Logan gritted his teeth as he cut off Dee's attempt to get under his skin. He kept he gaze trained carefully on the billowing figure as he reached upward to place the torch in his hand into the empty sconce across from Dee's cell. The thin torch barely illuminated a small radius in front of him, barely keeping the shadows close to him at bay. “I'm not here to talk about Virgil. Refrain from insulting my friend or I’ll—”

“Or you'll what?” Dee's wry grin stood out starkly against the shadows around him as glared threateningly at Logan. “Leave? If you had a shred of common sense, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Dee scoffed as Logan's expression soured. “Unfortunately for you, you’re the one here who wants something. So, I think you'll find I can speak about your friends anyway I damn please.”

Logan stood against the far wall, rigid with irritation at the truth of Dee’s statement. He clenched his jaw as his eyes shot daggers across the room at the faint silhouette of Dee leaning against the wall at the back of the cell in front of him.

“That’s what I thought. You’re as weak as I expected.” Dee sneered. A slight hiss escaped his lips as he struggled to contain the disdain in his voice. “I may be the prisoner, but you’ll never hold power with me. You’re merely a pawn in the bigger game I'm playing.”

Logan paused, blinking in surprise. His careful, guarded expression faltered briefly as the air wavered with an emotion he didn’t recognize. He parted his lips slightly, subtly tasting the unfamiliar feeling in the air. He stared into the dark blankly for a moment, trying to parse out some meaning to Dee's quickly shifting emotions before bitterly swallowing back the urge to comment and moving on.

“Well, clearly you wanted me here, Dee. The pawn moved where you expected, and now it's your move.” Logan pulled his shoulders back, not allowing his emotions to breach his carefully neutral expression. “So, are you actually able to tell me what happened to my parents or was this merely a ruse to get me alone?”

The silence hanging in air between them would have been deafening if Logan's heart wasn't pounding in his chest as he waited for Dee’s answer. He stared rebelliously into the subtle reflection of light in Dee’s unblinking eyes for what felt like an eternity, willing himself not to show that even without access to his power, Dee’s cold gaze sent a chill down his arms. Eventually, he couldn’t help but take a step back. His arm brushed the surface of the wall behind him and he jumped, almost missing the words that left Dee’s lips in that moment.

“You really don’t know anything. Do you?”

Logan paused, slowly glancing up in the cell as he processed Dee’s words. “What?”

“You don’t have parents.” Dee stated dryly. “You had Tara. “

The light Dee’s eyes flickered as he blinked and Logan tensed as he waited for Dee’s to continue.

“Actually, come to think of it. Tara wouldn’t have been able to resist my invitation either." Dee mused quietly. "It was easy to tempt her with knowledge. I would have pitied the fool who dared stand in her way of what she wanted to know.”

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as the name seemed to resonate with familiarity in his mind. “T-Tara?”

“That was your—” Dee snarled with disgust. “—your mother's name. Her full name was Taranis of the Southern Sky, but she went by Tara.”

“Taranis of the Southern Sky?” Logan spoke slowly tasting unfamiliar words as his mind race. He almost found himself stepping forward in curiosity, but immediately halted, remembering whom he was speaking. With a twitch of a frown, he glared across the line of the cell bars. “Like the planet?”

Dee’s scoffed at Logan’s timid question, and amusement radiated out of the cell. “Yes. Though in the interest of being entirely accurate, the planet was named after her, not the other way around.”

Logan narrowed his eyes into the dark, taken aback by the sudden lack of malice in Dee’s voice. “What do you mean?”

“Humans are nothing but parasites on this land.” Dee drew out his words thoughtfully. “They’re disgustingly cruel, but even I will admit their tendency to connect two completely separate ideas by a mere thread is endlessly amusing.”

Logan stood motionless, listening to Dee as he reflected nostalgically. He held his breath not wanting to draw Dee out of his seemingly peaceful state by reminding him of who he was speaking to.

“The planet you’re referring to glows a brilliantly bright blue, just like Tara's lightning.” Dee mused quietly. “That's all the connection humans needed to connect her power to the celestial body in the southern sky. She even added it to her own name in appreciation of the connection.”

Logan stared into the darkness, nearly paralyzed in disbelief at what could only be sadness in Dee’s voice. “I-I thought—” Logan paused, staring nervously as Dee's eyes turned up to him. “—I ‘ve read extensively about the mythology associated with Taranis. Everything I’ve read implied that it had been named after a god of thunder.”

Dee was silent for long time and Logan couldn’t help but jump when he finally let out a deep sigh. “One of humans’ less endearing tendencies is their absolute inability to recognize the value of all of their own members. Some of them may even be tolerable if their leadership wasn’t worthless.”

Logan was quiet as Dee’s eyes flickered dangerously in the dark.

“She was a goddess in her own right, though thunder was far from her only claim to power. Humans have oh-so-kindly altered her myth to fit their own narrow view because they’re threatened by someone perceived as feminine having power.” Dee muttered bitterly. “Such petty cowards.”

“Was?” Logan struggled to keep his voice steady as he stared into the shadows at Dee. Dee started to move, pacing the back of the cell, but Logan forced himself to continue to speak. “You keep using the past tense to refer to her.”

“Well, I’m shocked.” Dee hummed condescendingly. “Maybe you’re not as much of an idiot as you look.”

Logan subconsciously took a step back into the wall at the venom that dripped from Dee's words, jumping as his back struck the wall behind him. He gulped, feeling the air shift back to the familiar aura of Dee’s hostility.

“You heard me correctly, Logan,” Dee’s eyes flickered in the torchlight as he snarled at Logan. “because that traitorous leech condemned her entire race to suffer and then left her only kin to pay her debt.”

Logan’s heart dropped as Dee stepped forward. His eyes glowed gold as he stared threateningly at Logan as he stuttered out a response. “W-what?”

“I don't have time to repeat myself, so get this through that thick skull of yours. She bolted. Well over a century ago, she took whatever reward the human king offered her, and fled the country, leaving you to the mercy of the human king. It's really no wonder you grew up to be the prince’s loyal pet.” Dee growled. Logan felt chills creep his neck as Dee’s anger turned to a smug satisfaction. “Not all is lost though. Fortunately for the Fair Folk, in her absence, the debt she owes passes to her next of kin and at the very least, she left us that.”

“D-debt?” Logan trembled. Even standing in the heat of the flames of the sconce above him, he felt his blood run cold.

“Surely, your dear prince told you what your mother did,” Dee replied in a disinterested tone. “though clearly he didn’t see fit enough to tell you who you were. I don't imagine you’d be here if he'd simply had the guts to tell you the truth.”

“What are you—” Logan muttered defensive, feeling his hands start to shake.

“Tara’s lightning is unmistakable. There's no way our dear prince didn't know exactly who he was speaking to.” Dee continued unempathetically, barely deigning to look at Logan as he started to crumble.

Blue lightning.

Dee's words trailed off as a loud ringing filled Logan’s ears. He slumped clumsily back into the wall behind him. Roman had reacted to his power and the air had flooded with regret.

He knew.

Roman knew.

Logan swallowed, almost choking on the lump in his throat as he slid down the wall. His muscles strained painfully as he became rigid, forcing down a vocal reaction to Dee's words. He squeezed out a few weak words, desperately needing confirmation of his thoughts.

“She was the Elder Fae.”

“Finally,” Dee growled impatiently. “Maybe there is a brain cell rattling around in that empty head of yours.”

“How—” Logan nearly retched as his stomach twisted and he curled closer to the ground. “That was a century ago. How is that—"

“Stop babbling.” Dee snapped. “Fae live for centuries. We simply age how we choose.”

"But that can't—" Logan choked on his words as he clenched his hands into fists. “I don't remember anything. I grew up normal—”

“Please,” Dee sneered. “I definitely don’t have anything better to do than refresh your memory.”

Logan shivered, barely functioning as he curled his knees to his chest. One thought seemed to keep resurfacing in his mind as grief racked his body.

Roman knew.

“Fine. You worthless—” Dee growled derisively, cutting himself off. His eyes narrowed on Logan as he hissed out his words. “She left you in the hands of her master, the human king. We only assumed she took you with her when she fled the country, but it seems she lost no more love leaving you than the rest of us. You were held by the royal family for two generations before we even realized they still had you."

Logan tilted his head up slowly. Dee’s silhouette stood out slightly against the wisp of moonlight from the narrow window behind him.

“We knew only Tara's magic could end the curse, so once we realized there was a solution to the Fair Folk's suffering, we set out to take you back. Unfortunately, our mission was ill-fated from the start and before we ever reached you, you disappeared. I personally mesmerized and interrogated every knight and guard in the castle. I even got my hands on that foolish king, but you were gone without a trace.” Dee paused, tone dropping as he grew deadly serious. “So, congratulations. You got two more decades of freedom out of disappearing, but it's time to pay up.”

“It's all my fault—” Logan dropped his gaze to the ground bitterly, feeling numb to the tremble in his limbs. “An entire generation gone—for me.”

Dee was silent for a solid minute as he stared at Logan curled against the wall. His gaze drifted up to the torch above Logan, pondering curiously. “I must admit I didn't expect you to take the blame so easily.”

Logan sucked in a breath as his stomach clenched. “They killed her.”

Dee blinked in shock. “What?"

“She died—” Logan dug his nails into his arms at the realization. “She died protecting me.”

“No—That’s not possible.” Dee whispered and Logan looked up, barely catching sight of the fae's eyes before they disappeared into the dark.

“The spell—or curse—” Logan whispered quietly. “Whatever term you prefer to use for the enchantment they forced her to cast.” Logan swallowed, casting his eyes to the ground. “R-Roman said that was the last request the king asked of her and it was too much for her to handle.”

“That’s a lie.” Dee hissed threateningly. “Tara was nothing short of a god. She knew her limit. She would have backed out, if she thought it would kill her. They couldn’t force her hand—”

“They had me.” Logan whispered quietly, running his fingers through his hair. “They took me from her and threatened to—Gods, it's my fault.”

Dee sucked in a sharp breath and was quiet as Logan's breath became rapid. When he finally spoke, his voice strained as he attempted to hold back his seething anger. “I don't mean to rain on your pathetic pity party, but no. If that spell killed her, it was because the king drained her dry of all her energy. I told her—I told her it was too much, and she cut me out. I tried to tell her but I never thought she'd take it that far.”

“She didn’t have a choice. The king left her with no other viable alternatives that would also keep me safe.” Logan felt his stomach unclench slightly at the soft regret in Dee’s voice. He put his hand down, pushing himself up of the ground curiously. “You knew her?”

“I considered her a friend,” Dee scoffed in disbelief. “though she was clearly a wonderful friend, running off to be some human’s lapdog and cutting off contact with the only people that could have helped her."

“The choice clearly wasn’t in her control.” Logan muttered defensively.

“Right, because choosing between her entire race and the allies she'd kept for centuries and you—” Dee sneered condescendingly. “would be a difficult decision.”

Skin prickling with anger, Logan's gaze narrowed into a glare. “Perhaps she made the right choice cutting you out, if this is how you treat your late friend’s only son.”

“You hold your tongue or I'll tear it out.” Dee snapped with a guttural growl as he took a step forward. “You may be her creation, but you’re not her son.”

Logan growled. “You’re the one who called her my mother—”

“I needed your attention, you pesky nitwit.” Dee’s voice dripped venom as he glared at Logan down the dark. “You are not worthy of her name. She was a goddess who was able to pluck the rain from the sky and the dirt from the land and she bind them together to make you. You are no more her son than the wind and the rain.” Dee's teeth almost illuminated in the dark as he bared his teeth at Logan. “You're simply a ragdoll she breathed a wisp of life into. Nothing more.”

“Clearly, she didn’t feel the same.” Logan growled, unable to hide how deeply Dee’s words cut.

“She was a fool.” Dee's sharp disdain cut through the air as his eyes flickered gold in the dark. “Even if she considered you her child, do you even know how many children have disappeared from their parents over the last century? Do you know how many were orphaned because their parents weren’t strong enough to fight off the humans who were hunting the Fair Folk?”

Logan swallowed painfully, breath catching in his throat. “I know—"

“No, you don't.” Dee hissed venomously. “Don’t pretend you have even a shred of understanding of how many lives were sacrificed to spare yours. Fae disappear and are smuggled over the border to be used for whatever power they have left. They drained of their will to live. They—”

“She didn’t know.” Logan whispered quietly, guilt rising in his throat as empathy welled in his chest. “R-Roman said even the king couldn’t have predicted the destruction—"

“What a comfort for the families whose lives were destroyed by their negligence.” Dee spat. His voice gradually raised in volume as emotion crackled in the air around him. “Who could have possibly predicted that humans would take advantage of the weakened fae?”

Logan looked up suddenly as a gasp escaped Dee’s lips. The sound of metal clanging filled the air as Logan tipped his head up to see Dee’s dark silhouette bent over staring at his wrist.

“Dee?”

Dee's eyes shot up to him with a feral growl as Logan suddenly scrambled back to the wall behind him. Dee hissed as Logan rushed to dislodge the torch from the wall and crouched back into the dark as Logan spun back around to rush the metal bars.

“Dee, you’re hurt.” Logan whispered breathlessly. He bit his lip, stomach twisting in empathy as the torchlight revealed streaks of red on Dee’s wrists.

“Keep my name out of your mouth.” Dee snapped. “I don’t want your pity.”

“You need treatment—” Logan muttered, ignoring Dee's hostile remarks. “I'll get Roman—”

“If you bring that prince anywhere near me, I'll tear out his pretty throat with my bare teeth—”

“Virgil, then.” Logan pleaded, suddenly growing frantic as blood dripped from his wrist."

“No.” The wounded fae snarled, baring his teeth at Logan as he paced the bars.

“I can't open the door without assistance—”

“Then, don't.” Dee snapped with a menacing step forward. “I didn’t ask you for help.”

“I don't accept that.” Logan's mind raced as stared at figure of Dee crouched over in the dim light of the back of the cell. His eyes widened as he noticed dark pools at the fae's feet. “I'll be back in a moment.”

“Where do you think you’re going, Logan?” Dee stepped forward, metal clanging as he rushed the bars. "We're not finished here."

Logan bit his lip, feeling a wave of guilt as he took in the full extent of Dee's injuries. A mixture of dried blood mixed with fresh as it streaked down his arms. He softened his expression. “There is a medical kit near the guard's quarters that I was able to raid for supplies for the antidote for Roman's poison. It was well stocked.”

Dee gritted his teeth silently, unable to stop Logan as he turned to place the torch back in it's holder.

“I'll only be a minute.” Logan whispered apologetically, briefly glancing back at Dee's deathly glare he ducked through the archway.

Getting to the medical kit proved to be as little of a challenge as it had been the first time he'd raided their stash of supplies for ingredients. Fortunately, they seemed to have restocked from his last encounter and even added to their extensive supply. His face twisted in disgust. Realistically, he knew he should be grateful he hadn’t needed to go far for supplies, but the sight of the growing collection sent bile rising in his throat.

Logan knew all too well the supplies were kept stock for when Remus pushed too far on his victims. There's no mistake that this was here to keep the prisoners comfortable. There had been many instances where he'd been left to bleed in the dirt without concern for him to believe that, but the few times he'd been truly afraid he may not survive the night, Remus had allowed one of the guards to haphazardly treat his wounds. The unforgettable experience of his wounds being treated so roughly sent shudders down his body, but he'd survived, perhaps thanks to the clumsy treatment he'd been granted. Still—He clenched his jaw, refocusing his energy away from the uncomfortable memory.

Subtle, colors filled the air as he quietly dug through the various pouches of herbs and oils, trying to guess what he might actually need. He’d only gotten a cursory glance at Dee’s injuries and hadn’t dared ask the already seething fae for a closer inspection.

What am I doing?

I mean, he knew he couldn’t just leave Dee to bleed out. He didn't have that cruelty in his heart, but nothing was stopping him from grabbing Roman or Virgil at this point. He'd walked away unscathed, and he knew they'd certainly help him if he asked, but he couldn't bring himself to break the small amount of trust Dee had placed in him letting him walk away.

Not that he'd had a lot of options.

Logan clenched his jaw and quickly hooked the waterskin he'd swiped from the guard's supplies on to his belt loop and shoved the rest of the bandages and a collection of salves and oils into his bag. He groaned and pushed himself back up toward the door, quickening his pace. Subtly, he gave a brief pause at the door, listening quietly at the door. He paused before pushing himself through the crack and making his way back to Dee's cell. Logan edged along the shadows near the walls as he deftly avoided the unobservant guards patrolling hallway of cells. His anxiety started build, creeping across his skin as he approached the figurative lion's den once more.

Logan slowed as he tiptoed into the hallway with Dee’s cell. He could see a subtle cloud of colors drifting out of his bag carried by the wind back the way he'd came. He could taste the herbs on the air as he stopped quietly in the hall outside the door, listening intently.

He heard a subtle whisper as he crept across the threshold toward Dee. Listening intently, he peered around the corner as the whispers stopped. Logan looked into the dark corners of the cell as he turned the corner, immediately spotting Dee’s eyes glowing their usual bright gold.

Logan stared curiously at Dee, who seemed to be too distracted to notice Logan re-entering the room. He carefully traced Dee's line of sight to the far corner of the room as he let out a distinct hiss while he appeared to stare at nothing. Logan froze in place, miscalculating a step as Dee's cold stare turned to him.

“Oh, good.” Dee snipped. The glow of his eyes flickered with exhaustion as he watched Logan slowly unfreeze and move quietly to the cell door. “My daring hero has returned from his harrowing journey that was absolutely not pointless—”

“Shut up.” Logan muttered in an exhausted tone as he grabbed the torch out of it's holder and turned to scan the walls of the cell. “You need treatment.”

“You can't get to me.” Dee spat coldly. "Therefore, this venture was pointless."

“I can, actually.” Logan stated dryly.

Dee paused, staring at him suspiciously. “How?”

“You'll see soon enough.” Logan’s chest tightened nervously as he turned to face the wall behind him. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the lockpicking set Virgil had given him. He hesitated, fidgeting with the tools in his hand as he cautiously kept the picks out of Dee’s sight. Picking the lock to the cell door would certainly easy enough. Virgil had implied that the locks in the dungeons were of amateur design, but doing so was as good as showing his hand to a man who seemed determined to prove himself Logan’s enemy, and Logan certainly couldn't see how that was a wise course of action.

Logan sighed, defeated. He couldn’t knowingly walk away while Dee was in his current condition, not even to fetch Roman. So, he steeled his stare and turned to move to the cell door fiddling with his picks.

“What are you doing?” Dee hissed the demand, staring at him..

“I think it is very apparent what I attempting to do.” Logan growled back. “Unfortunately, if you have questions, they will have to wait as I need to focus.”

Dee seemed to bite back a sour retort as Logan slid the first pick into the narrow lock. He glared silently at Logan, but allowed him to work in peace as he got a feel for the pins. Logan glanced up at Dee’s unblinking stare as he manipulated the last pin into place. He knew he could simply pop the lock open, but he let the pin fall out of place, but Dee’s injuries didn't appear to be an immediate threat to his life. To be perfectly fair, if he was being forced to show his hand on his new skill, he still didn't have to reveal to Dee that he was good at it. A few minutes passed as Logan played up his lack of skill, smiling subtly as Dee grew frustrated.

“Why don’t you give up? You obviously don’t—"

A single pop from the metal of the cell door stopped Dee’s statement in it's tracks. Logan couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across his face as Dee watched him slowly push open the cell door.

“Stay away from me.”

“I think we've established that's not going to happen.” Logan chided softly as he stepped forward. He kneeled down in front of the fae and held out his hand to Dee expectantly. “Give me your wrist.”

The scales on his face glowed a dull yellow as Dee hissed threateningly at Logan as he kneeled beside him, but much to his surprise Logan simply hissed back at him. Anger burned in Dee's eyes at the response. “Don’t treat me like a feral animal.”

“Don’t act like a feral animal.” Logan grunted as he gestured sternly for Dee to extend his wrist. He felt a small surge of empathy as he met Dee’s gaze. His scales dull glimmer gave away the exhaustion he was so clearly trying to hide.

Dee's heated glare would have withered his willpower away in any other circumstances, but right now, he had a job to do. His focus narrowed as Dee reluctantly held out his wrist. The wounds were not immediately apparent under the layers of dried blood, so Logan reached into his bag, pulling out a cloth to wet with his waterskin.

“Tell me if this hurts.” Logan muttered, not looking up. "I can be more gentle, if I need to."

“Like you’d care.” Dee hissed back, flinching at the feeling of the cold water as the cloth brushed his skin.

“I do care.”

Dee paused, staring at Logan uncertainly. “Why?”

“I simply don’t glean pleasure from seeing others in pain,” Logan whispered as he gently began to work away the layers of blood.

Dee scoffed quietly. “Well, I certainly have not extended you the same courtesy, so surely some part of you enjoys the reversal of power.”

“I want to help you, Dee. Any power you claim I have over you exists purely in your own perspective.” Logan stated without glancing up. He examined Dee’s wrist closely, knowing he couldn’t proceed with the cuff around Dee’s forearm in the way. He tilted his head up to Dee’s golden eyes. “I’m going to take your bind off, but I expect for it to go back after I've finished.”

“Starting to give commands already,” Dee muttered. “How noble our sweet ragdoll is.”

“I don't enjoy seeing you bound either, but I'm no fool.” Logan pulled out his tools and started to slide the pick into the lock, allowing his focus to drift from Dee’s intense stare. “You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear and I'm not interested in being a willing target of your rage.”

Dee was quiet as the first cuff popped open and Logan froze as it revealed several deep gashes underneath the cuff. Large, red welts raised on his arm around the cuff, an indicator of the powerful fae’s reaction to the metal. The welts and irritation were to be expected but Logan couldn’t deny the cuts looked more purposeful.

“The guards haven’t noticed your injuries?” Logan whispered, gently rolling Dee’s wrist to get a better look.

“You know firsthand they simply don’t care, especially since I’m not human to begin with.” Dee growled avoiding his gaze.

“But they should have reported it so that Roman could have done some—”

“Your idiot prince has no idea about my injuries. I can assure you of that.” Dee replied bitterly.

Logan swallowed, not wanting to admit the relief that washed over him at the thought that Roman had not been the one to be negligent of the fae's injuries. He bit his lip as he dropped his gaze. “Still, surely the guard would’ve approached Remus, given your relationship.”

“Bold of you to assume that Remus was not the source of my injuries.” Dee whispered tiredly.

Logan paused, looking up at him in horror. “I thought—"

“You thought wrong.” Dee cut him off, and Logan looked up to see him staring distantly over Logan’s shoulder. “I told you there was no affection between us.”

“Still,” Logan whispered. “I didn’t imagine he would hurt you.”

“It's my own fault really. I should have predicted he would become destructive if left to his own devices. He can't resist the temptation of hurting someone powerful when they're helpless in front of him.” Dee whispered quietly, still staring absently over Logan’s shoulder. “I’ve been his keeper long enough to know it's the way he was created.”

“His keeper?” Logan asked, his voice carefully neutral as he listened curiously.

Dee seemed to tense with the realization of what he'd said, but Logan remained patient. He kept working at Dee's injuries gently applying the soothing salve to his irritated injuries. The methodic movements seemed to lull Dee into speaking the words he seemed to desperately want to say.

“You may be the key to undoing the curse that Tara placed on us, but that doesn’t mean that the Seelie and Unseelie courts simply rolled over and gave up when you disappeared.” Dee started tiredly. His voice hung heavy in his throat as he watched Logan begin to wrap his arm. “There was a plot. When Roman and Remus were born, the courts were reeling with grief from the loss of our chance at redemption. You were gone, and with your disappearance, the courts lost all hope of lifting the enchantment. It was a dark time for our people, and in their grief, for the first time in nearly three centuries, they made the choice to create a changeling."

Logan paused as pinned off the end of Dee's bandages and moved to the next arm. He hung his head as he listened, pulling his lockpicks out of his pocket as he started on the second cuff

“They wanted to fell the humans from the inside out, create a kink in their rule that would destabilize their monarchy and maybe give us a chance to survive their systematic destruction. Unfortunately, as had been the case so many times, the universe seemed determined to foil our attempt at salvation.” Dee watched absently as the second cuff fell off his wrist, barely reacting as Logan set to work on clearing the blood off of the deep cuts. “Despite popular belief, changelings can't be created on a whim. They take seven years to grow and nurture for the right traits before they can be switched. Continuing our stellar streak of luck, on the night of their birth, a lock of hair was taken from the kings' son and the process of creation had begun. No one realized until later that twins had been born and we had created a changeling of the wrong child.”

Logan gently lifted his head as he worked the blood on Dee’s wrist, glad to see a slight glimmer to Dee's scales. “Why not simply correct the mistake and start over?”

“The lock of hair must been taken before the moon sets on the night of their birth.” Dee voice hung heavy in the air as he leaned against the wall. “We didn’t learn about the twins until weeks later. So, we had a choice. Work with what we had created or wait another generation to try again.”

“So, why you?” Logan asked quietly as he returned his gaze to the salve he was spreading on Dee's wrists. "How did Remus end up in your hands?"

“I have acted as the Seelie court’s ambassador to Unseelie court for well over a century.” Dee whispered sadly. “Actually, Tara had acted the Unseelie ambassador until she disappeared.”

“She was a dark fae?” Logan whispered.

“Dark and light have different meaning to the Fair Folk.” Dee growled in discontent. “Neither is good nor evil. They simply exist to balance the other.”

Logan looked up at the serious expression on Dee's face and nodded slowly, still processing the new information. He reached to his bag, pulling out a new strip of bandages.

“Remus was created to spread misery. He was meant to fell a kingdom, but we knew he'd need guidance. Tara’s replacement had led the mission to collect you, so the representative of the Seelie court became responsible for Remus.” Dee sighed. “I became responsible for him. Still, nothing we seemed to do was enough, and once Roman acquired his pet—” Dee stalled as Logan glared at him. “Once he acquired Virgil, he was untouchable. He overrode every bad decision Remus threw at him. We thought the game was over when Remus' bored attempt to murder the prince somehow turned up you.”

Logan pinned the end of the bandage in place and glared up at Dee defensively.

“Your eyes glowed while he was having his fun with you in the dungeons. That's how he knew. Honestly, you probably could have fried the little bastard if it weren’t for the shackles so conveniently placed on your wrists.” Dee snipped as he pulled his wrist back from Logan. "Fortunately, you weren't so lucky."

“You seem as determined as ever to hate me.” Logan whispered quietly, shoving his supplies into his bag. He glanced down at the shackles on the ground, but made no attempt to force Dee to replace them.

“I can't afford to believe that any piece of her lives in you. If I did, I may not have the willpower to finish what I started.” Dee replied coldly. “You have a debt to pay and if you won’t own up to it—”

“I will.”

“What?”

“Whatever it takes, no more lives will be sacrificed in my name.” Logan whispered, looking up at Dee’s subtly shimmering scales. “Show me what I need to do.”

Dee scanned his face, taken aback by Logan’s words. He watched curiously before testing Logan’s truthfulness. “Fine. Let me go.”

“I can't. Not yet. ” Logan added as Dee's eyes stare distrustfully up at him. He brushed himself off, glancing out the cell door. “I’m going to fetch Roman.”

“What?” Dee hissed, his mouth hanging agape.

“I'll do whatever it takes to end this, Dee. I give you my word.” Logan promised, holding his wrist tightly. “My life is in your hands, but I want Roman there. Whatever happens to me, I want him there.”

“I can’t let you do that, Logan.” Dee warned with a growl. "Don't walk out that door."

Logan took a step backwards towards the exit, holding up his hands in reassurance. “I promise I’ll return. My word is goo—”

A grunt escaped Logan lips as a body slammed into him from behind. Instinctively, he moved to slip out of his attacker’s grip but their grip was iron tight. He struggled for a moment, blue sparks erupting from his arms until he was forced onto his chest with a painful thump. He gasped a metal shackles latched around his wrists and his lightning vanished. He gasped, feeling his power dissipate as a familiar giggle sounded behind him.

“Oh, pretty boy.” Remus chirped happily in Logan’s ear. “For a second there, I thought Dee wasn’t going to let me out to play. He gets awful sappy when he talks about his dead friend—”

“Get off him and give me the key, Remus.” Dee ordered, not looking up at Logan as he shamefully hung his head.

“Dee, please.” Logan begged as Remus pulled him to his knees. He watched helplessly Remus tossed a brass key at Dee’s feet. “I said I’d do whatever you asked.”

“Gag him.”

“No—” Logan started to squirm, but Remus was prepared. He held him easily as he slipped a piece of cloth between Logan’s teeth.

“You had to have known I'd prepared for your visit, didn't you?” Dee drawled lazily as the binds around his neck and legs fell free. Immediately, he took a deep breath as the light from his eyes glowed brighter and a bright shimmer passed down the scales on his face and hands. “Nothing I've done has been left to chance. I kidnapped your prince and forced your hand on learning to use your power on your friends. I offered you the temptation of knowledge and tricked you into prying a confession out of that oaf of a prince. This was all planned for you to end up here understanding exactly why this is your burden to bear.”

Logan glared at him, shivering as Remus’ hands grasped his shoulders. Dee stepped toward him, raising a finger to trace the scar on his face. He nearly collapsed to the ground at the reminder of the last time he’d spent helpless with Remus.

“Our dear Remus has the unique ability to become undetectable when he needs to and fortunately you stepped right into my trap as predicted.” Dee smirked as his finger slid down Logan’s face. “The only thing I didn’t predict was your willingness to sacrifice yourself to make things right. Truly, that was a noble offer and one that won't go unnoted." Dee grinned as Logan's head shot down to the ground. "Maybe there truly is a glimmer of Tara behind those bright eyes.” Dee whispered as Logan hung his head to his chest as tears blurred his vision. “I don't want you to think this is personal, Logan. I’d be much happier walking you into this willingly, but I can’t take a chance that your prince wouldn’t be so honorable, so I'm sorry." Dee smiled sympathetically as Logan struggle in Remus' grip. "Truly I am, but too many people are relying on me to finish this for me to take chances.”

Logan slumped back, defeated in Remus’ grip. Dee's gaze only lingered on him for a moment before he tore his gaze away and looked up to Remus.

“Get him out of the castle. I will meet you at our rendezvous point,” Dee order sternly. “and Remus?”

Logan shivered as Remus’ hand brushed his neck. He resisted the urge to retch as Remus grip on tightened on his shoulder, but the feeling only lasted a moment as Remus' hand was immediately yanked away from him. He flinched, expecting a blow to the side of his head, but when none came, he timidly looked up to see Dee holding Remus’ hand away from him. Both the men's eyes glowed brightly in the dim light as they stared at each other. Logan froze watching as power radiated through the air between them. An uncomfortable minute passed before Remus’ glowing green eyes flickered and returned to their normal color. Dee continued to stare at the changeling, voice dripping with power as he continued.

“Not one hand on him that’s not absolutely necessary.” Dee hissed threateningly as Remus bowed his head submissively. “If even one hair on his head is out of place when I retrieve him from you, I will make you regret existing. Do you understand?”

“If control’s what you’re into, I’m not objecting," Remus quipped with a chuckle. "but I really think we should talk about these thing beforehand—”

“Answer me, Remus." Dee growled impatiently.

Remus glared at him petulantly, but eventually he turned his head down with a snarl. “Fine. Pretty boy stays in good condition until you come to fetch your toy.”

“Good, then go. I'll meet you as we planned,” Dee ordered sternly, shamefully avoiding the horrified look in Logan’s eyes as he pulled his sleeves over the bandages on his arms.

“Alrighty then, pest.” Remus’ high pitched chuckle sent shivers up his spine. “Time for a nap."

Logan’s cry was muffled to a whimper as Remus pressed a cloth against his nose and mouth. He struggled in Remus' grip. The corners of his vision darkened as his movements weakened. He fought to remain conscious, but the battle was already lost. Regret flooded over him as his muscles stopped reacting and he drifted restlessly into an uncomfortable sleep.

---

Chapter Warnings: Restraints, Anger, Angst, Death Mentions, Lashing Out, Mentions of Kidnapping, Medical Treatment, Injuries, Blood, Guilt, Very brief unintentional self-harm, mentions of genocide, Drugging, Actual Kidnapping, Unsympathetic/Questionable Janus/Deciet

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

You Belong With Me Taglist:

@cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname @ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @imbadatnames8d @croftersphoenix @optimistic-violinist @chronicallynervouschild @croftersjam15 @actitus-hypoleucos @unbefuckinglieveable @justthatamount @eeveeeclair246 @taxicabinmemphis @theoddkidnextdoor @dwbh888

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts logan #ts janus #unsympathetic deceit #unsympathetic janus #You Belong With Me #villain writes

57 notes · View notes

random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Boy (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff, and a lil spice ;), No quirk!AU

Summary: You finally get to see your childhood friend Shouto after years of being separated only to find out he’s completely changed.

BGM: “Younger” by Ruel

Word count: 2,781

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: God this photo fucked me up good when I first saw it.

I saw this picture on my search for images for my last Todo post aaaaand yeah, pretty self explanatory. I got to thinking, what if this poor baby finally snapped one day and was like "FUCK ENDEAVOR AND HIS ENTIRE PROGRAM, IM NOBODY'S MASTERPIECE" and he went the complete opposite direction. So enjoy a little bit of OOC Todoroki and a bit of a longer post than my usual stuff!

I’m really really sorry about not updating in the past few days. I was really swamped by college work and studying, and I was mentally exhausted and physically tired every day. Today wasn’t my day and I almost had a breakdown because a lot of things piled up in me, but I had to pull myself together somehow. Hopefully, after this week, I’ll go back to a somewhat regular posting schedule. Thanks for being patient with me guys, I really appreciate it :)

When my mom told me Shouto will be going to the same high school as me, I was expecting the same buttoned-up, shy, good boy from elementary school. Oh boy, was I wrong.

The boy I bump into in the hallway definitely looks like Shouto, but the only thing that's the same is his mismatched hair and eyes. Everything else about him was much different. His entire energy was different, even from the fraction of a second I focused on his face.

"Shouto?" I call when he's about to brush past me.

I don't think he's expecting someone to know him on the first day, pausing and looking down curiously.

The most shocking feature of all is the scar on his left side, a red blotch that covers the left side of his face, starkly contrasting his brilliant turquoise eye; a single ray of light in a scarlet sky.

As I'm gaping at the puckered skin, his eyebrows furrowing at my face as recognition slowly dawns on him. "(Y/n)?"

I'm relieved that he at least remembers me. "Yeah, hey." I don't really know what to do now. My first instinct is to hug him, but something tells me he isn't a fan of that sort of thing anymore. There's a coldness between us that's thick as a knife. "How have you been?"

"Fine," he answers curtly. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, leaning back in a way that seems uncharacteristic of him and more like a ruffian.

Does his not want to talk to me? I don't blame him, I haven't been in his life for a good eight years. "How are your parents?"

His jaw clenches. "Fine."

Oh. I struck a nerve. "Do you wanna catch up at lunch? What class are you in?"

"1-A." Overjoyed that we share the same class, I'm about to open my mouth, but he interjects, "But I don't think we should talk." That was the last thing he said before he strolls past me.

I'm stunned, following his receding back through the sea of students. I guess I shouldn't have brought up his parents when I know it's a sensitive topic, but I didn't know what else to say. And it's probably awkward to see someone you used to be close to talk to you again, but the least he could've been is polite. That's saying something, because Shouto was always the polite child.

Something is terribly wrong here.

Shouto has definitely changed since we were younger. He's become a delinquent.

He never even shows up to class. After our little encounter, he was slumped in his seat until the teacher finished role call, then he just got up and walked out in the middle of class and never came back. In all the days after that, his seat remained empty even at the beginning of the day.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. What if he happened to get sick and had to stay home? Then I saw his signature mismatched tuft of hair walking back home in the school yard, and I knew he was skipping.

After a whole two weeks passed of him skipping, I had enough. The Shouto I know would never cut class even if his life depended on it. During lunch, I went looking for him in the group of other delinquent kids in the back of the school.

"Todoroki?" the ash-blond ringleader ruffles his hair and scoffs, "Idiot must be off somewhere by himself like the damn loner he is. He picked a fight with me and I almost beat his ass into oblivion!"

I ball my fists up, more angry at Shouto than the group of boys eyeing me like a pack of wolves. "You guys are useless," I mumble, about to turn away from them.

"Aww, is he your boyfriend, sweetie?" the honey blond with a black streak in his hair smoothly wraps an arm around me. "He probably doesn't care about you, you deserve someone else who'll give you his time."

"Fuck off, who said you can touch me?" I shove his arm away and step back.

"Calm down there," the red head with sharp teeth taunts with a smirk, "You're getting a bit defensive. You sure you don't need help looking for your little prince?"

"I'm fine on my own, thanks," I huff, turning around to go look for Shouto elsewhere.

"Maybe I'll come with you," the overly-friendly boy blocks my way again. "If he's not your boyfriend, maybe we can get together sometime?"

"Not interested. Out of my way, Pikachu reject." I try to side-step him, but the leader grabs the back of my collar and whips me around so I'm face to face with his bared teeth.

"You're a bit rude, aren't you? Should I pull your head out your ass for you?" His crimson eyes glare his murderous intent into me.

I hold my ground, the anger against my irresponsible friend more powerful than any fear of this hothead possibly hurting me. "Don't act so tough if your talk is cheap."

He cracks his knuckles without breaking eye contact with me. "I'll show you cheap talk. Try waking up next week after I'm done with you!" he snarls.

I mirror his expression. I don't mind throwing hands at this guy if I have to, blood rushing through me to prepare for the fist fight. "I dare you-!"

"Enough, (Y/n)."

I can feel his presence right behind me even though he doesn't physically touch me.

Scarlet eyes shift behind me. "Took you long enough, hot shot. Your friend has just as much spunk as you, I'll kick both your asses!"

"I'd like to see you try, Bakugou," Shouto responds coldly. "We both know who'd win." Keeping his gaze locked on the aggressive male, he harshly grabs my arm and hauls me away. "Let's go."

I'm fuming with anger when we're back inside the building. I turn on him when he finally releases me, but he's already starting down the hall. "Don't walk away from me! We need to talk!" I stomp over, following him to an abandoned classroom. "What the hell is wrong with you?! First of all, you were a real ass when I talked to you last week. Second of all, you're not even coming to class like you should. And now you're already picking fights with that idiot out there? What's gotten into you Shouto?!"

"You were about to get into a fight as well. You should thank me," he comments coldly, slipping into a desk with books open on top.

"I could've handled it just fine without you! The only reason I was even there talking to them was because I was looking for you!" I hover over him, glaring down so he can tell how angry I am. "You'e skipped class all week, this isn't like you at all! How are you supposed to catch-?"

One glance down the the open books shows all the material we've been going over in class. He's already caught up to today's lesson, writing notes in his book and ignoring my presence. The entire setup makes me angrier. "I don't understand you, Shouto. What kind of act are you trying to pull? You're not a delinquent, why are you trying to act like one for everyone else? Or is this all because you're just trying to ignore me?"

His pencil stops moving and it slams down onto the desk. "A lot happened since you left, (Y/n)," the boy responds. His quivering voice indicates restriction of intense emotion.

The hurt is apparent across his entire face, calming me down. My gaze lingers on the left side of his features, over the eye that somehow looks perpetually sad. "How did you get that scar, Shouto?"

The boy's eyebrows furrow. "My father never let up on me after you left, and he got worse. My mother couldn't handle fighting him on her own anymore. One day, she snapped, told me how unsightly my left side was, and pouring boiling water over my face." His large hand gingerly covers his reddened skin. "And my bastard father put her in a mental institution after that. He did this."

My heart aches for my childhood friend, the boy I took care of and listened to all his problems. I can't imagine how much pain Rei was going through. For her to have lost it, she must've held such a heavy burden. When I had to move away, I felt so guilty about leaving him with all his troubles. He had no one else to reach out to and it was snatched from him. There wasn't a day I stopped thinking and worrying over him. I reach to take his hand and offer comfort. "Shou-"

Shouto bolts up from his seat, his taller figure hunching over mine, features screwed up in distaste. "You weren't there when I needed you most."

I'm taken back, hurt more than anything. "It's not my fault, we were so much younger, I didn't have a choice but to go with my parents."

A dark chuckle erupts from his lips, dismissing my excuses. "It's fine. It happened, I've learned to deal with it."

I'm about to blow my top with this kid. "Yeah, you've dealt really well, haven't you?" I roll my eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

My mouth gapes, letting out a sputtered scoff. "You're kidding. Just look at you! You're pretending to be someone you're not! You and I both know you were never the bad boy type when we were kids. You're the slightly awkward, naturally smart, driven, hardworking-"

"I was only those things because my father forced them on me," he passes by me, crossing his arms. "I don't want to be anything that bastard wants anymore. And if you can't see that, then we were never friends in the first place."

That's a stab in the chest. How can he say that we were never friends when we used to do everything together? A surge of fury rushing through me, I grab his arm to keep him from moving any farther. "You love watching superhero cartoons, your favorite was All Might. Sometimes, you're so damn lazy that instead of doing homework when you came home, you would sneak in a nap before your dad came home to see you slacking off. Your favorite food in the entire world is cold soba. You don't like extremely sweet desserts. You've always been insecure about how strange your mismatched hair and eyes look, but I always had to assure you that you're still the most handsome guy in our class."

Shouto halfway turns around to look at me.

"If we weren't friends, why do I know so much about you?" I take another bold step towards him, softening at the underlying pain etched into his features. "I know you always hated the way your dad expects so much from you. The only thing you ever wanted in your childhood was to be normal. The pressure finally crumbled down on you and your mom, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you through it. But you shouldn't abandon everything that you are. You took after your mom more than your dad; you're sometimes a sassy son of a bitch, but you're kind and have a deep respect for people you admire. You have a natural sense of humor that you don't even know you have. You care about the people you're close to, you only struggle with communicating how you feel sometimes."

His lips part slightly, processing everything I just showered onto him. Guilt eventually creeps up on him, choosing to rub the back of his neck. "You...always did know just what to say."

I smirk and engulf him into my long-awaited hug. "Who else would put you back in your place?"

His arms hesitantly wrap around my body, the act of sharing body warmth strange yet familiar to him. It's a small victory, but I'm relieved that we're back on speaking terms. I'm ready to resume protecting him as I should.

Shouto shifts in our embrace. "You said...I struggle with telling people how I feel...?" he mumbles sheepishly near my ear.

My boy perks with confusion. "Yeah, even when we first-"

"Would it suffice if..."

Before I can turn to search his face for what he could be implying, his grip around me loosens as he pulls back to look at me, one of his warm hands resting against my cheek. His face looms right in front of me, my breath catching in surprise, before he presses his lips to mine softly. The weightlessness in my stomach is unmistakable.

As quick and unexpected as it came, it also left, Shouto's half lidded gaze resting on me from a small distance away. All I can do is stare off dazed, still trying to process what just happened.

He leans back against the nearest desk in the front row. "I guess I should've asked first." I can see his cheeks and his ears turn almost as flushed as the color of his hair despite his hand covering half his face to hide it. "But it was the only way I can think to get my point across without stumbling over words."

My heart still flutters trying to recover back to normal, my knees shaking as I lean against the teacher's desk for stability. I resist the urge to touch my lips like a shocked schoolgirl, but I'm still trying to process the whole thing. "You know," I cough, "We did already kiss when we were like...five, so this wasn't really our first. But I don't usually count that-"

The intense color fades from his face almost at once, a darkness creeping into his gaze. "Then," he pins me back into the desk, hands on both sides of the wood to trap me, "I shouldn't have any qualms about doing it again."

Contrasting from his strong setup, his next kiss is still shy and hesitant. After exchanging a couple more tentative lip-caresses that still make my head spin, he's gotten his feet wet enough to go harder, establishing a rhythm between us. As his kisses intensify, his hands reach up to cup both sides of my nape, fingers tangling in my hair desperately and tilting my head up for a better angle. My own hands grasp the collar of his uniform, pulling him closer into the heat of the moment.

His body pushes me practically into sitting on top of the desk, moving one of his knees between my legs as he lets ones of his hands roam down to grip my waist. The sudden tug elicits a minute gasp, allowing Shouto to nip at my bottom lip before tugging my head back to trail soft kisses down my jaw. My fingers thread through his soft locks, letting him massage my neck with his mouth.

"W-Where did you learn all this?" I breathe out unsteadily, my breath refusing to return.

He straightens up and captures my lips in another slow kiss. "You'll never know." Another one. "I've admittedly imagined this for a while." The next kiss is much deeper, a hum vibrating from his chest as his fingers dig into my side again. "You're special, so dear." His mumbles between kisses become more incoherent as his kisses become messy.

"Shouto." I finally manage to push him away for me to breathe and calm my dizzy head. Both of us are panting. His half-lidded eyes and flushed face tempt me, but the fear of someone walking by suddenly alerts in my mind. "Someone might see us. Besides, isn't there something you need to say?"

His brow lifts. "I'm...sorry for being rude to you last week."

"That was needed, too," I chuckle, "But there's something else."

Confusion crosses his features. "Have I done something else wrong?"

My hands slide down to grip his hands. "Don't you need to ask me to date you officially?"

The tint of rose on his cheeks intensifies a shade. "I thought it was clear already..."

Another chuckle bubbles from my lips and I lean up to kiss his warm cheek. "I'll let it pass because I want to date you too." His face begins to light up in joy, but I push off from the desk and tow him out of the room. "But you have to start coming to class again."

Shouto catches up to keep pace with me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Done."

"And you need to see a therapist, Mr. Bad Boy."

He breaks out into a smile at that nickname. "I'll think about it."

#todoroki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #no quirks au #todoroki angst #angst to fluff #gender neutral reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

655 notes · View notes

concussed-to-pieces · 5 years ago

Text

Her Dove, His Falcon, Their Shield Part Two

Fandom: Game Of Thrones

Pairing: Oberyn/Reader/Ellaria

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Disclaimer for Game Of Thrones writing here! Hello everyone, welcome to the next installment! I hope you're all doing well. Thank you so much for being here. Enjoy!

Tag List: @culturalrebel @huliabitch @absurdthirst @helplessly-nonstop @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @cyaredindjarin @thesadvampire @robin-writes @buckysalefty

Part One

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous abuse, non-graphic mentions of pregnancy/labor and birth, and threesome antics. Stay safe!]

"Again!" Oberyn demanded, wiping the sweat off his brow.

You feinted left, then right, the butt of your pike nearly striking the prince in the ribs before he danced out of the way. You grunted, discouraged by the fact that you still weren't fast enough to catch him. You had been closer that time though…

The prince laughed, the noise in and of itself immensely galling. "Perhaps if you land a blow on me today, my newest daughter will bear your name!" He taunted. "Shieldove Sand has such a ring to it."

You leveled your pike at him. "Save your teasing for your courtiers, Prince Oberyn!" You snarled, "I am in no mood for your damned japery at my expense!"

"Hold." Oberyn ordered sharply.

You slumped a little, your grip on the pike loose now. "I...I apologize, your highness."

"You are concerned about her." It wasn't a question and you well understood that.

"I am." You allowed softly.

Ellaria had gone into labor several hours before and Oberyn had specifically sought you out for some particularly grueling training. His smile was tight-lipped as the two of you squared off in the empty training courtyard. You knew he was worried as well, but you were bordering on frantic.

Oberyn's heavy sigh took you by surprise. "I would give every breath in my body to be there with her, but I am told it is an excessively messy affair. She does not wish for me to see her birth." He said bluntly. "Every time it is like this. Every time I am caged, constantly pacing, driving myself mad with thoughts that grow more and more dark as the hours pass."

You bit your lip and then laid a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry Oberyn, I didn't mean to imply that...I know I am not the only one who fears for her safety." You apologized timidly.

He covered your hand with his own, thumb rubbing over your knuckles idly. "You called me Oberyn." He mused after a moment. You flinched, but he kept your hand where it was. "I am glad, my falcon. It heartens me to know that you think of her as I do."

"We can do naught but pray for her safety and keep ourselves busy until she requires you once again." You pointed out, desperate to change the subject so he wouldn't dwell on your error of addressing him by his given name. "I must train even harder, for what if the new babe is like your Sand Snake Elia?"

Oberyn burst out laughing, bumping his forehead into yours. "Truly, what if! We will have no choice but to rally the guard at that point. No one will be safe." You couldn't help your smile when he looked at you, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Thank you for the levity, my falcon."

"I live to serve, your highness."

He sighed heavily, knocking the butt of his spear against the ground. "How many times must I insist you call me Oberyn?" The prince began to back away, his spear twirling easily in his deft hands. You shook your head ruefully and did not reply, your own weapon in a low defensive position. "Prepare yourself, Ser Shieldove! You face the Red Viper of House Martell!" He announced with a grand flourish, charging in afterwards.

You easily parried his first strike, and dodged his second. The third rasped against your chain mail loudly, making the prince grin triumphantly before you brought the haft of your pike up and threw him back a step. "Too cocky, princeling!" You admonished, startling another laugh out of him. "You'll have to do better than that!"

Your pike thrust out and he slipped around it like the snake he was, his own mail clicking with the sharpness of his motions. You scoffed, swinging the shaft instead to finally catch him firmly in the ribs. The prince staggered, but quickly took advantage of your shock as his spear jabbed low, aiming for your legs.

At the pressure of meeting your body, the safety binding around the blade of the spear tore slightly. You felt something catch on the inside of your unarmored thigh when Oberyn snapped his wrist back, his spear singing through the air with the speed of his retreat. You caught his next attack with the palm of your hand around the haft of his spear, halting the blow before it could land. "Mind your blade." You warned, tipping your head to the now-exposed metal at the head of his spear.

Oberyn nodded, then his eyes widened. As he strode forward, your thigh began to sting. You glanced down, startled by the amount of blood that already darkened your hose. Oberyn shoved you back a step with the force of his approach, his fingers tearing at the laced placket on your trews.

"W-What are you doing?!" You protested, your voice pitched abnormally high out of fear as you slapped your hands down over his own to still them. He was too close, why was he-

"I have just slit your leg open and you ask what I'm doing? I should have made you wear your cuisses, I am a fool." He hissed, "Sparring with you while we are both in turmoil was me tempting fate, and now you...have…"

His words faded after he gave up on your placket and simply tore the hole in your hosiery a bit wider, exposing more of your bare thigh. You closed your eyes tightly, not wanting to see his face.

"Ser Shieldove, what are these marks from?" Oberyn queried after a moment, his trembling fingers grazing one of the many silvered scars.

"Pinching, Prince Oberyn." You answered softly.

"Pinching." His voice was flat with disbelief.

"When I would make noise or cry out during, Prince Oberyn."

"Gods, what?" Oberyn breathed.

You shrugged helplessly. "He did much worse to others. I was useful." You were certain he must be staring at you, but you could not bring yourself to meet his eyes.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and he embraced you, pulling you into his chest and resting his forehead against your temple. "That is...barbarous, monstrous." He seethed. "To so boldly attempt to rob you of any delight you might ever have--I tremble with rage!" His laugh was sardonic, bitter, and he was indeed shaking. "So that you can feel the echoes of his lecherous manhandling, every time you bathe or dress?"

"I do not believe he expected me to escape." You admitted, startled by his rough inhale of breath. "I believe he expected me to perish one of those nights, but I was hardier than his usual playthings."

"No more, falcon." Oberyn whispered. "Please. My heart breaks at the notion of you enduring such heinous treatment." He kissed your forehead and you flushed. This was far removed from his usual lighthearted flirting! He sounded distraught, burying his face in your neck as he continued to hold you.

My heart breaks…

Slowly, hesitantly, you raised your hands to rest on his back. Your fingers fumbled for purchase momentarily on his armor. If he merely sought you out for comfort because Ellaria was indisposed, then comfort him you would. Somehow. "I have survived him, however." You sighed. "And thanks to you, he will not harm anyone ever again."

"It feels like too little in the wake of his reign of terror." Oberyn muttered. "I did it solely for my sister, for the dashed body of my infant nephew and the slaughter of my niece, but had I stopped to think about the debt that man must have wracked up with his nightmarish actions…" He trembled again. "It is as though I was picked by the gods themselves to strike him down. Why me, I wonder?"

His palm covered the wound he had created, pressing down steadily as he helped you hobble to the nearby bench. "You worry too much!" You waved off his concern, peering at the wound. It was deeper than you had anticipated, but it was still hardly a scratch to someone like yourself. "This parchment cut shall not fell me. Unless you've poisoned your blade, Red Viper?"

"Never!" Oberyn protested. "I would not gamble so foolishly on naught but a simple sparring match, Ser Shieldove."

"You do loathe losing." You teased. "You must tell your daughters I died valiantly, cursing your name while choking on my own spittle or something equally as glorious."

"It would be a death for the history books." Oberyn assured you, the furrow of his heavy brow lessening somewhat as he seemed to realize that you would be alright.

A servant skittered around the corner of the hallway leading to the training yard, her gauzy skirts bunched up in her hands so she could run freely. "Prince Oberyn!" She called, gasping for breath.

The prince whirled and you lunged to your feet, your leg forgotten. "Speak, girl!" Oberyn demanded of the servant, who had obviously run quite a fair bit in order to find him.

"Baby--Ellaria wants--come now-" The girl panted, gesturing vaguely behind her.

Oberyn was still for a moment, like he was frozen. You placed a hand on his rear and gave him a gentle shove, saying, "tell her no matter what happens, I am proud of her, Oberyn." The prince nodded hurriedly, shaking off his daze and bolting down the hall.

You grimaced. Hopefully, no one would question the blood that stained his hand and vambrace! You decided your best option would be to retreat to your quarters to dress your wound and wait, on the off chance that the prince or his paramour would deign to summon you.

You had hoped that the sparring would help you expend some of your nervous energy, but it did not seem that luck was on your side. You found yourself endlessly restless, pacing back and forth beside your pallet as the sun slowly sank. The bells for the evening meal rang out, but you ignored them.

You finally lit your lantern and settled down into the chair beside your bed, focusing on the flame that flickered in the glass panes. It was an old exercise, but comforting in its familiarity. You let your mind empty, let everything drift away until all that remained was the candle and yourself.

All I ask is that they are healthy, whole and strong. You were uncertain of who you prayed to in these times of meditation, daring to surmise that you prayed to anyone who might be listening. All I ask is that Ellaria is well, and the baby is well. Your brow furrowed. Please.

You did not know how much time passed while you were in prayerful contemplation, only realizing how sore your back was when the door to your quarters was thrown open. The sudden motion made you flinch in surprise, looking up. It was that same servant, the young girl, her face alight. "The prince and his lady have sent for you, Ser Shieldove!" she chirped.

Thank you, you threw your heartfelt gratitude to whoever might be responsible before snuffing out the candle.

Clad in only light hose and undertunic, you raced through the maze of outer hallways with all the speed and eagerness of a child. As you approached the birthing chambers, however, you attempted to calm your thundering heart and turbulent mind, slowing to an undignified jog.

The guard at the door saluted you stiffly, opening the door after a moment of floundering with his gauntlets. You crept into the room, closing the door gingerly behind you and then turning to survey the scene.

The first thing you noted was Ellaria sound asleep in the lavishly-structured bed, her arms supporting a swaddled, tiny babe hungrily mouthing at her breast. You heaved a sigh of relief, slumping back against the door. The next thing you saw was Oberyn beside the bed, still in his armor, with a second swaddled bundle cradled in his embrace.

The prince looked up at you and you saw that his eyes were glassy with tears. "I have been blessed." He said hoarsely.

"Two?" You whispered, barely able to believe it yourself.

Oberyn nodded, beckoning you closer. "Come see my first son, Ser Shieldove." He implored, his voice breaking. No longer caring if you seemed overeager, you strode across the chamber to the prince's side. Oberyn tugged at the swaddling by the babe's face, allowing you a clear view.

"Oh." You sighed wistfully, reaching out to touch his sweet little nose before you remembered your manners and snatched your hand back. This was a Sand, after all, and the firstborn boy no less!

Oberyn tilted his head towards the washbasin beside the bed. "Wash yourself, and you may hold him."

"A-Are you sure? What if I...gods, he is so small, Prince Oberyn." You whispered. Oberyn just nodded, gesturing to the basin again. You obliged him rapidly but thoroughly, washing yourself to your elbows and then patting your arms dry with the clean towel. You returned and you were confronted with the reality of a slumbering, swaddled babe being deposited into your arms.

"Cradle his neck, rest him upon your breast. The little ones have no real strength to hold themselves up." Oberyn instructed you softly, moving your hands until the baby was secure against your chest. "Look at him, just look." The prince didn't seem to be able to stop marveling at his new son, drawing a whisper-soft finger down the bridge of his wee nose. You were almost worried about the excessive attention he was giving to the boy, when he abruptly turned back to Ellaria. "Now, precious daughter, are you sated?" He cooed. Gods, domesticity suited him, armor and all. "Will you grant your poor mother respite? She has toiled long to bring you to my arms."

"Too long." Ellaria agreed, smiling wearily up at Oberyn. He kissed her forehead, losing the battle with his tears. "Do not cry, lover!" His paramour chided him as he sniffled.

"I am the most blessed man in all of Dorne and you would have me be stoic, woman? This one time, I'm afraid I cannot acquiesce!" Oberyn huffed, carefully scooping his sleeping daughter off of Ellaria's chest. You stifled your own giggles at the prince's petulant behavior, swaying back and forth idly.

Ellaria glanced up at the sound of your snorting, her eyes barely open as she smiled at you. "I am glad you're here, Ser Shieldove. I know my little ones will be safe now." She mumbled, obviously moments from falling back to sleep.

You nodded, chuckling at Oberyn's indignant grumble. The baby in your arms stirred and you began to sing softly, not wanting to disturb Ellaria. "The moon rides sand dunes home to me, she calls me sweetly by name. I am a child, a child of Dorne, the moon she knows my name." You crooned, still swaying to and fro in an attempt to lull the babe back to sleep. "The sun rides sea waves home to me, he calls me proudly by name. I am a child, a child of Dorne, the sun he knows my name." You continued to hum the tune, even as you felt the little one relax against your chest.

"How do you know that song?" Oberyn whispered.

You glanced up, but his expression was guarded. "I heard one of the older knights singing it and I asked him to teach me. He said it was a child's song." You replied, whispering as well. "I simply liked the tune. Should I not sing it?"

"I have not heard that song since I was only knee-high myself. I had all but forgotten it." Oberyn's eyes were thoughtful, the prince studying you closely. "You are full of surprises, my falcon. It gives me a certain joy to know that the first song my babes ever heard was Moon And Sun." His brow furrowed. "I cannot recall the third verse, the one about the stars."

"The stars crown mountains high above, unbowed, unbent, unbroken. We are the stars, the stars of Dorne, the world will know our name." You prompted softly.

"You have a lovely voice, my dove. Perhaps you are a nightingale?" Oberyn teased. "I shall ask you to perform at their naming."

"Your mockery always wounds me so deeply, your highness." You deadpanned. Tiny fingers wrapped around your index and you looked down, but the child's eyes were still closed. "I have been seized, it appears." You said with a smile, laying a careful kiss on the baby's head.

Oberyn cleared his throat suspiciously hard, thumbing away a few stray tears. You chose not to comment, allowing him his moment of paternal weakness.

…

You spread the blanket out on the ground in the blood orange grove, laughing when you caught sight of Dorea clobbering a nearby tree with her child-sized morningstar. "Lady Dorea! I believe you have vanquished that particular foe!" You called.

"Ser Shieldove, there is an orange that I can't reach and it is the best one! I need it for Mama!" She yelled back, bouncing on her toes as she tried to jump for the fruit. You shook your head, making your way through the rows of trees to where she stood.

The fruit was (probably) just within your grasp if you stood on your tiptoes and braced against the trunk of the tree. You stretched out your arm, reaching upwards and-

Someone's hands landed on your sides, pressing into your armor and lifting you with ease. You managed to grab the orange, laughing when you realized that it was Oberyn who had given you your boost. "Your highness! Thank you for your brave effort." You said with a grateful smile, tossing the orange to Dorea. The little girl tore off towards the blanket you had spread, hollering to the approaching Ellaria that she had the perfect orange for her.

You expected Oberyn to release you with some quip, but oddly, he did not. His touch was not particularly uncomfortable. Firm enough that you could feel it through your armor, but loose enough that you knew you could easily twist free should you desire to. In amongst the sheltering branches of the blood orange tree, the prince caged you against the trunk and studied you intently.

"Your highness?" You asked softly. "We should return, the children are-" His mouth on your own halted your words and you went stiff. His kiss tasted of fresh blood orange, tangy with citrus and you found yourself enjoying it a fair bit more than you should have, your chest heaving against his own when he finally pulled away.

"My falcon, my dove, shield of the Red Viper's clutch." Oberyn breathed, his pupils blown in the green-dappled light beneath the tree's foliage. "Forgive my impudence. Seeing you with my children stirs my mind to such wicked thoughts."

"Prince Oberyn!" you protested, your traitorous body still reeling from his kiss. But no, you couldn't, Ellaria-- "Please, you must think of your family." You insisted tremulously. "I will not let you ruin the beautiful life you have built for yourself. This...affection, whatever it is you're feeling for me--" You sucked in a sharp breath. "It is nothing but a misplaced infatuation. It will pass. You must consider your children, your highness, a-and Lady Ellaria."

"You truly believe that?" Oberyn asked, but he didn't sound angry. If anything, he sounded hurt. "You believe that I would seek you out due to something so cheap as infatuation? What, simply to exercise the power I have over you?" You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. "Your silence is damning, Ser Shieldove. I would never try to wound Ellaria or my children, just as I would never try to wound you. I thought I had made that clear."

His hand carded delicately through your hair, tucking a few loose locks back into your braids. "I do not believe you would purposely seek to hurt me." You amended finally, your gaze firmly fixed on the toes of your boots. "Many men do not realize the harm they cause, either through their actions or their wandering eyes."

"I am not many men." Oberyn replied softly. "I have lain with both men and women, my falcon. I know well the pain of careless touch and I do not abide by it in my partners." He stepped away from you after a moment, shrugging. "If you are so concerned about my infatuation, mayhaps you ought to ask my paramour what she thinks of inviting you into our bedchambers?" He suggested with a feigned attitude of nonchalance.

"Are you mad? Obe-Prince Oberyn, you are hers. There are certain things that one does not do, even as a prince of Dorne." You snapped, your turmoil adding a sharp edge to your voice.

Oberyn looked startled, then he had the audacity to grin. "I am hers, you say? You insinuate that I ought to receive permission? Then I'll go ask her now-"

"What? No, that's not it at--damn it, Oberyn, take this seriously!" You hissed, wanting to strangle him. "She has borne your children, have some respect for her and don't attempt to stray!"

Oberyn's laughter washed over you and you were torn between the urge to punch him in the gut and the urge to bury yourself alive. "Stray?" He finally sputtered. "Forgive my mirth, my falcon. I am...All I can say is that you really must speak with my paramour. I imagine the two of you will have a highly interesting discussion."

"Oh, of that I am certain." You said icily, stalking past him and heading towards the blanket where Ellaria played with the twins. You bowed stiffly and her eyebrow quirked, as if to ask what's wrong? "I will return to the water gardens, my lady. His highness appears to be in such ferociously high spirits I assume he will be more than up to the task of warding off any attackers."

"Do not leave, Ser Shieldove!" Oberyn boomed directly behind you, making you jump out of your skin. Gods, he could be so quiet! "I will maintain my composure, I give you my word!"

"It is not your composure I worry about." You shot back under your breath, making him struggle vainly to disguise his laughter as a coughing fit.

Ellaria looked back and forth between her lover and you, her eyes dancing like they did when she and Oberyn enjoyed one of their many secret jokes. "I see you both have been sampling the oranges." She commented pointedly, tapping her lower lip while winking at you. "They do stain so beautifully, don't they lover?"

"But Ser Shieldove has not even had any yet!" Loreza said plaintively, the younger Sand's red-stained fingers tugging at Dorea's hand. "We should get her some."

"Aye, how is it that you have blood orange on your mouth and not a mark on your hands?" Oberyn asked playfully, as if he didn't already know, this was all his fault!

You were back to warring between the two urges and the option to punch Oberyn, while absolutely certain to lead to your immediate incarceration, was looking more appealing by the second. You set your jaw, willing away the tears that were trying to build as Loreza set off with Dorea in tow. "I am--I am leaving now." You said thickly, cursing yourself for the sob that blatantly hitched your words.

Ellaria immediately noticed your discomfort, her smile vanishing. "Are you well, my dove?" You hiccupped roughly, nodding. Your performance wouldn't have fooled anyone, but Ellaria seemed to take pity on you and allowed you to dismiss yourself.

You stalked off through the orchard, trying vainly to stem the flow of tears that poured down your face. You finally stopped beneath one of the many trees, sliding down the trunk and wrapping your arms around your knees so you could hide your face as you sobbed. It was incredibly unfair of Oberyn to tease you so maliciously, but what did you expect from a prince? No doubt to him, the common folks' feelings were nothing but toys. Your heart had soared and broken all at once, leaving you feeling bruised and aching.

The summer of being wanted, desired by someone, the winter of knowing that giving in to them would destroy their happiness...

"Ser Shieldove!" You started, looking up. You hadn't noticed Loreza and Dorea returning from their hunt, the two girls arm-in-arm. "What happened? Did you get hurt?" Dorea asked worriedly, making your heart break all over again. "Should we get Mama?"

"Oh, no no!" You tried to assuage their concern, giving the two girls a watery smile while you cast your mind around for a suitable excuse. "I--I saw a bee."

"You're scared of bees?!" Loreza erupted incredulously. "I didn't think you were scared of anything!"

"Not even our papa!" Dorea paused, then added, "but I'm scared of bees too. I got stung once, on my foot. That's why I wear my big boots now." She said importantly, shuffling the aforementioned boots. They did look oversized for her stature. You had never noticed…

An orange was thrust at your face, Loreza blinking solemnly down at you. "We found you a good one. It's ripe, I promise." The two of them plopped down on either side of you like little sentries, Dorea brandishing her tiny morningstar.

You turned the orange over and over in your hands. "You know, where I am from, these are only for royalty." You began suddenly, digging your nails into the peel. "I had never even touched one before I came to Dorne."

"Never?" Loreza gawked, her own cheeks smeared with red from her feast. "I love oranges. Kumquats. Grapefruits."

"Lemons are better than grapefruits. More spicy." Dorea said firmly. "Like dragon peppers."

"I don't like dragon peppers." Loreza retorted sulkily. "They burn my tongue."

The two girls bickered around you while you slowly peeled and ate the fruit, your turbulent thoughts calming under the press of the mundane task. You felt foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you; obviously Oberyn only teased you because he knew he would get a reaction! You pushed away the memory of how gently he had tucked your hair back into its braids. It was probably a force of habit for him, having had so many daughters. It meant nothing.

You tore apart the last two slices of orange and slurped the juice off the heel of your hand, realizing that Dorea and Loreza had gone quiet. A quick look confirmed your suspicions: the two of them were sound asleep.

You exhaled through your nose, then settled back against the tree. You eased Loreza down into your lap, stroking over her hair absently. The little girl yawned, but did not move. Dorea slumped into your arm and you carefully wrapped it around her instead, keeping your hand on her shoulder so she didn't topple over. Your own eyelids grew heavy the longer you sat with the two little girls, though you knew you ought to be vigilant for any dangers that could be lurking. Worn out from your crying jag, you slipped from consciousness yourself.

You were roused what must have been hours later by a cautious touch on your shoulder. You jerked awake, your hand flying to the pommel of your seldom-used sword. "Tis' only me, my dove." Ellaria soothed, her hand resting on your shoulder. "You did not make it back to the water gardens, I see." She nodded downwards at the sleeping child in your lap.

The sun was hanging low and red on the horizon, casting a pink hue over the land. "Seems I didn't." You yawned indecently wide, then carefully hugged Dorea a bit closer. "The little ones found me an orange fit for royalty to eat, and we spoke of important matters."

"Oh?" Ellaria arched a brow.

"Bees, my lady. We spoke of bees."

"Have you found them, my love?" You heard footsteps approaching. "Ah! I should have known." Oberyn continued softly, obviously trying not to wake the twins that slumbered in his own arms. "Safe and sound asleep."

Ellaria roused her daughters, eventually permitting you to get to your feet and work the kinks out of your neck from sitting in such an awkward position for so long. "I believe we should speak." Ellaria murmured, placing her hand on your shoulder once again.

You shook your head violently. "There is naught to speak about, my lady. I assure you, I shall cause you no trouble." You knew that your tone was exceptionally weary, but you hoped she could forgive such indiscretion.

"Listen to Ellaria, Ser Shieldove." Oberyn demanded. "This is a mistake-"

"I'm well aware that what occurred was a mistake." You interrupted him through gritted teeth. "And as I said, Prince Oberyn, I will cause no trouble for you or your lady."

Oberyn opened his mouth to retort but Ellaria gestured for him to be silent. "Tomorrow, then?" She phrased it like a request, but you knew better than to think you could refuse her.

You bowed perfectly, your form ramrod straight when you saluted her and the prince. Your words were dripping with false sincerity as you stated, "Of course, my lady. I live to serve."

…

The dread that you felt permeated your very marrow. You were certain you would be sent away. What else did one do with a member of their household who was untrustworthy, especially if their partner proved they could not or would not stay away from such temptations?

This was surely the end of your proud career under the banner of House Martell. You were a fool for thinking that you could have been happy here.

You packed your few possessions with an air of sorrowful finality. You hadn't acquired much during your time in these lodgings, your living space admittedly Spartan. When you were summoned, the manservant found you sitting patiently on your bed in your armor, your satchel slouched on the floor.

"Ser Shieldove, Ellaria Sand requests your presence." The older man droned, raising an eyebrow at your state of preparedness.

You nodded, trying not to let your apprehension show as you thanked him and proceeded out into the hall. Your boots felt like they were lined with lead and your eyes stung from all the heartsick weeping you had done the night before. Your stomach would not cease feverishly knotting.

All too soon you found yourself at the door to the prince's chambers, raising your hand to knock. You hesitated momentarily, flattening your palm on the door and then resting your forehead against the intricate latticework. Your shoulders heaved with a single, soundless sob before you straightened back up. You would face this trial like all the others in your life, with some bare shred of dignity.

You knocked on the door. Upon hearing Ellaria's voice bidding you to enter, you unhitched the latch and let the door swing open. You ought to have known that Oberyn would be present as well. You weren't sure why seeing him standing on their terrace felt so...final.

"Ser Shieldove, you come dressed for war." Ellaria remarked, sounding surprised. "Please, set your bag and blade by the door."

"I sought to make my dismissal simple, my lady." Your voice rasped in your throat when you spoke. You made no move to come further into the room, nor did you release your hold on your bag. "We do not need to drag this out, especially not from some misguided desire to soften the blow."

Oberyn turned to look at you, his brow furrowed. But you only had eyes for Ellaria, the woman rising from her vanity to pad barefoot across the floor to you. She stood before you, unarmed, unafraid, her hair still loose around her face. "Why do you believe you were brought here for dismissal, my sweet dove?" Ellaria asked. Gods, gods, her tenderness was going to reave your soul from your body.

You swallowed hard. "I...forgive me, my lady. Please, forgive me. I was weak and permitted my emotions to get the better of me. I did not firmly reprimand Prince Oberyn when he kissed me in the orchard. I take full responsibility for my failure." You bowed your head in grief, your dry eyes burning. "I will not bring shame to your family with my indiscretion, so I come willingly to my dismissal."

"She kisses like a virgin, Ellaria." Oberyn murmured, a hand cupping his paramour's hip and tucking her into his side. "She kisses like she has never been kissed. It was divine."

You flushed hotly, certain that he was mocking you. "I cannot believe your cruelty." You muttered incredulously. "To jest about something like that!"

"Is it true, my little dove?" Ellaria purred, her hand stroking your cheek. "Do you kiss like a virgin?" You stared at her, thoroughly confused now. You did not even notice her other hand cupping your face, utterly transfixed by how close she was. She was so near that you could see there were tiny flecks of gold in the brown of her irises.

And then she kissed you.

Your satchel fell off your shoulder, hitting the floor with a muffled thud when you reached out clumsily, gathering the other woman in your arms. She let you, she let you, gods, she was kissing you and that was her tongue teasing your own. You whimpered into her mouth, bewildered and helpless to resist her.

"I think you are right, lover." Ellaria agreed after she took pity on you and allowed you a moment to breathe. "Hot and trembling and yet so, so eager."

"I...do not understand." You said weakly.

"Oberyn and I found long ago that we share certain proclivities, my dove." Ellaria explained, toying with your hair. "Particularly in the bedroom."

You felt like your mind couldn't catch up to your mouth, stammering, "S-So...wait, the both of you…?"

Oberyn, his chin resting on Ellaria's shoulder, gave you a sly wink. "Aye, my love has excellent taste." The man tugged Ellaria's dressing gown to the side, baring her shoulder so he could shower it with kisses. "We have a special affinity for strapping, chivalrous types."

"So I'm not...I wouldn't...the-the both of you would know about me?" You stuttered.

"What do you mean, my falcon?" Oberyn asked curiously.

"Well, I just...I assumed you were seeking me out as a--a secret. Something akin to adultery." Your voice faltered a bit. "B-Behind Lady Ellaria's back." You watched as understanding appeared to dawn on the prince, his brow furrowing darkly.

"Oh no, no no, gentle dove." Ellaria cupped your face with her hands. "We indulge together and we indulge openly. You would not be Oberyn's secret plaything." She assured you sincerely.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to imply that I think so little of you!" You apologized to Oberyn, who still looked somewhat thunderous. "I was distraught and confused, your highness. You know well that I have been wounded before. Please, please forgive me." You wrung your hands fervently. "I would do anything to-"

"Be still, my falcon. You protest overmuch." Oberyn chided, his expression clearing. "If you believe that your simple misunderstanding grieved me, I should hope that you never heard all the terrible, salacious rumors spread about me in King's Landing!" He smirked. "Such imaginative people."

"They certainly had a strange way of slandering you." Ellaria remarked, her lips twitching into a wry smile. "Do you remember what they said about your cock?"

"Oh that one was my favorite." Oberyn, no doubt noticing your horrified look, began to laugh in earnest. "There was a rumor that my cock was the same as a horse's, you understand." He finally managed to explain. "Length, girth, a hearty amount of description went into this tale. I feared I would disappoint, after hearing such an inventive story about myself! Mercifully, none of the lovely women and men in the brothel seemed particularly distressed about me lacking a cock that would outright murder them. One poor girl swooned from relief, timid thing."

"Oh dear." You said faintly. "I mean, the rumors are not wholly unfounded, but perhaps slightly less exaggeration-" You halted abruptly with a sharp squeak of dismay, what had you just said?!

"Flatterer! Always, it's in your blood I'd wager!" Oberyn chuckled, shaking his head. "I believe it is due more to my age, prolific partners and casual promiscuity. No one there could fathom such a thing, though in Dorne we view it as a common practice. That and the unwavering love I had for all my daughters. They claimed I was barking mad. Surely, I ought to be cursing the Seven every time a new girl was born." He scoffed derisively, blowing a raspberry as though he was a child. "Instead of being delighted with a healthy babe to love and spoil, sing songs to and dandle upon my knee. Aye, Prince Oberyn is surely mad."

His hand reached out to cover Ellaria's on your cheek and you closed your eyes, leaning into their joint touch.

"Gods, is she not the loveliest woman you have ever laid eyes on?" Oberyn mused softly.

"Truly. So strong and brave!" Ellaria answered, making you flush with embarrassment and stare downwards. "Do not shy from such ardent words, my dove! They are spoken in truth, I promise you."

"I do not doubt your sincerity, my lady! It is just...it is overwhelming." You replied honestly. "A part of me is still that terrified woman from King's Landing, trying to barter for passage aboard any vessel willing to take me. That I would be rescued by the two of you…I never could have imagined this, even in my wildest dreams."

"It was a lucky chance that my dear Oberyn spotted you."

"I'd surmise more divine providence, but all the same." You smiled. "Thank you. Both of you. I...I know not what to say."

"Join us in our bed, gentle dove." Oberyn requested, his voice deadly serious. "Join us, my falcon." His hand slid beneath your chin, tugging lightly at your gorget and no doubt feeling your rough swallow. "Let us give you something good to think of on lonely nights when duty calls you elsewhere."

"I--I-I would very much like that, your highness." You whispered.

His fingers hitched your chin, tipping it upwards so he could see your eyes. "Oberyn." He said softly.

"Oberyn." You allowed yourself to say his name deliberately and he grinned, tugging at your chin playfully before he released you and stepped back.

Ellaria caught his hand, and then extended her own to you. "Leave your sword, my dove."

"The armor as well." Oberyn added, his smile growing wider by the moment as you began to hurriedly oblige. You were thankful that the leathers slid off over your head, but the chainmail shirt took a bit more twisting and turning for you to emerge safely. "Gods, look at her, my love." Oberyn sighed to Ellaria after you had fought your way free of the mail, "the pride of her, the way she stands. I would happily cultivate such splendor."

"You did, Oberyn." You pointed out, fumbling with your cuisses. "You granted me the opportunity, after all."

"Let me help you, my dove." Ellaria murmured, her hands covering your own. You grimaced uncertainly, glancing to Oberyn. "He told me of your markings. I am no pampered princess, Shieldove." The steel in her gaze was undeniable; she dared you to think she would cringe at the sight of your scars. "I bear many of my own marks. The life of a Sand is better than most, but still fraught with its own hardships."

You nodded jerkily, letting her assist you with removing your cuisses, greaves and sword belt before she ran her hand over the laces at your groin. You swallowed hard. "I do not wish to distress you, my lady."

"Only Ellaria here, my dove. Here and everafter." The woman said, her fingers tugging the laced placket loose.

Oberyn sauntered up beside her as she slid her palm to your hip, fingers spread on the hot skin she found there. "Your consent, my falcon?" He breathed against your jaw, placing a trail of kisses over the area. "I seek your enthusiastic consent. I seek to have you undone and crying out in rapture, but first your consent."

Ellaria's fingers teased at the waistband of your hose and you shut your eyes, gathering your courage. "Yes. Yes, I...I want. I want you both." You managed to say.

"Open your eyes, knight of House Martell." Oberyn ordered and you obeyed meekly. The prince touched his forehead to your own, his brows pulled low. "Your consent, Ser Shieldove. Look at me while you give it. Look at her while you give it. We need to know. We need to hear it from your lips. No hesitation."

"We will stop if you cannot consent, sweet dove." Ellaria assured you.

"N-No! No, I do want this, I swear I do. Gods, my head is spinning from how much I want the two of you." You confessed bluntly. "I am unsure of how to proceed. I do not know what to do. Forgive my inexperience." You held out your hands imploringly. "Show me what to do?"

"Never apologize for not knowing." Oberyn said firmly. "All man should ever apologize for is not being willing to learn." He stroked his fingers over your temple, light as a feather's touch on your skin. "And you are so, so willing." He whispered. "You have sought learning your whole life, my dove. Sought to hone your body, hone your spirit with songs and prayer. You have learned how to wield our weapons and cradle our babes with the same willingness that you approach us with now."

Ellaria enfolded your hands in her own as you processed Oberyn's words, each one saved in your heart like a precious treasure. All man should ever apologize for is not being willing to learn. "Will you…" you hesitated, biting your lip. "Will you help me learn?"

"Gods, I would eagerly kiss the breath from your chest." Ellaria sighed, her smile warming you from head to toe.

"Is it...considered strange that I want the both of you?" You asked warily. "I have never lain with a woman before, b-but I would...I mean, if I could, I would like...I would like to. Attempt to! That is." You fumbled, kissing her knuckles afterwards.

"You wish to drink from the pure springs of my paramour? A bold request. What will you offer me in return for my generosity?" Oberyn's lips brushed your ear and you quivered when he continued, "will you let me touch you as you touch her, my falcon?"

You raised your eyes to meet his, startled by the heat you found there. Did he really feel that strongly about you? You freed one hand from Ellaria and reached out to take hold of his light robe. "If you harm me-" You began to warn him, your voice catching in your throat.

"Sweet dove, he will not." Ellaria assured you, her expression serious. "Neither of us will. I promise you." She cupped your jaw, her thumbs grazing your chin achingly soft. "We of Dorne are known for our passion, but a fire is gentle embers before it is stoked to hungry flame. We will not harm you."

"This incredible, delicious display of vulnerability that you are presenting to us...well, it would be wholly inappropriate to squander such a gift." Oberyn's hand covered yours on his robe, larger fingers lacing easily through your own. "We will bed you, and we will love you, my falcon."

"Do you offer such pleasures to all your knights?" You queried, half in jest as you let him lead you to their sun-drenched bed.

"Only for the ones who break the Mountain's fingers." Oberyn chuckled, leaving you and Ellaria to settle onto the bed while he went to draw the thin curtains over the entrance to the terrace.

Ellaria pulled one end of the laces on your placket, her motions teasingly slow and deliberate. The lacing unwound itself, tugging free of the grommets until your sturdy hose were slouching open. Her hand pushed your tunic up slightly, enough to reveal a sliver of your stomach for her to graze her knuckles against, then her lips. Those fingers curled around the hem of your tunic, continuing to drag it upwards to bunch underneath your breasts.

"Her body looks beautiful like that, my love." Oberyn commented idly from his position at the foot of the bed. "Ser Shieldove, touch her hair, caress her. She loves to be touched while her mouth is occupied."

Your trembling fingers barely grazed Ellaria's luxuriously unbound locks, still smooth from being brushed, and you felt your heartbeat quicken in your chest. "May I…?" Ellaria nodded and you dug your hands greedily into her soft waves, half-sitting so you could press a lock to your lips. "Thank you, Ellaria." You whispered.

"Such chivalry! Perhaps we will consider parting with a few locks for you to carry into battle as a token of our affection." Oberyn kissed the crown of your head. "Regrettably, my curls are a bit shorter than hers."

"Mm, yours would make such delightful paintbrushes." Ellaria teased, continuing to cover the skin of your stomach with tender kisses and nips. She bit down gently on the waistband of your hose, looking up at you in question. You nodded rapidly and Oberyn settled into the bed alongside you, the man yawning wide.

"Watch her now, my falcon." He instructed, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the bare skin of your stomach before this thumb slid beneath your bunched-up tunic. "She is such art, the way she moves. Had I the skill for it, I would write endless poems about the beautiful anticipation she inspires in me." His touch was light, teasing, forefinger and thumb pinched into the fabric of your tunic to ease it off the rest of the way. His other hand shot up to lift and cradle the back of your neck while he divested you of the article of clothing, the inconsequential motion new and gentle to you.

Ellaria rolled the hosiery off down your legs, the light breeches sticking to your heated skin. You were left nearly bare, the only garment still on your body the simple breast binding you used when you were armored. Ellaria hummed in satisfaction, drawing her hands greedily up your trembling form to seize the edge of your bindings. "Be naked for us, gentle dove." She crooned, her sweet voice dissolving your last fear. You placed your hands over her own, helping her to untie the frantically-knotted cloth.

Oberyn hissed out a breath through his teeth when your breasts were finally freed. "Gods, you were made for us." He groaned, "I want to grab handfuls of you and gorge myself on your taste, my falcon."

Ellaria wasted no time flicking her tongue over the stiff peak of your right breast, smiling when you threw your head back in response. Oberyn lapped sloppily over your left breast and then blew gently on the damp trail, forcing you to bite down on the heel of your palm to keep from making a sound.

Oberyn eased your hand away from your mouth however, grimacing when he saw the marks your teeth had left in the skin. His facial hair felt like pinpricks when he kissed your palm, his eyes solemn. "We crave your sounds, my falcon. We welcome them." He murmured. "You can be as loud or as soft as you want, but do not smother them before they can blossom."

Ellaria toyed with your nipple, rolling her index finger back and forth over it and you whimpered pitifully, blinking back the tears that rose and nodding hard. "I will try, Oberyn."

"It will take time, sweet dove." Ellaria's gentle smile pierced your heart, her soft words contrasting so vividly with her devious fingers. "Do not underestimate our patience. You are our knight, our shield, and we will cherish you as you ought to have been cherished."

Part Three

214 notes · View notes

salexectrian-heir · 4 years ago

Text

ragged edges and sharp teeth

Pairing: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist

Fandom: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,305

Tags: Hurt/No Comfort, Canon Universe, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Platonic Affection, References to Underage Drinking, Referenced/Implied Suicide (Goro’s Mother), References to Depression, The six times someone kisses Goro Akechi, and the one time Goro Akechi kisses someone, Shuake Week 2020

Summary:

But in truth, in reality, Goro is selfish. Always will be. He is all ragged edges and sharp teeth, he is rough and all consuming and unrelenting.

And ruining Akira is perhaps his most selfish desire of all.

Shuake Week 2020: Free Day (a six and one prompt)

i. his mother

Goro is six years old and he is crying.

The water is scalding against his skin but that he doesn’t quite mind. He tries to fight the tears but they fall despite his brave efforts to not let them roll down his cheeks. Normally, he likes this place. The bathhouse is usually calm and comforting, and feels a little bit like an adventure when he’s sent here on his own. But tonight, he knows something is wrong .

One of her “ friends ” is over. One of the many he doesn’t like. His mother had that look on her face when she ushered him outside, the kind of look that made him want to stay rooted to the spot, clinging to her leg and begging to not be sent away.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this place, time almost doesn’t feel real in the bath. But it’s been long enough for his fingers and toes to prune, for his tears to have (finally) run out, and everyone else to have left. He runs his wrinkled fingertips over the tiles of the tub that are smooth and sleek, and wonders if anyone would come looking for him if he stayed in the water all night.

Probably not.

He sinks another few centimeters so that the water reaches his chin, and thinks about staying.

But he would miss his mother too much, and his eyes sting immensely, and all he wants is to fall asleep with her curled up next to him on his futon. He wouldn’t even mind if she hogged all the covers. It would be enough to know she was with him. That he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

He fumbles his way out of the tub and into his night clothes with clumsy, pruned fingers. The street is empty as he walks back to the complex where he and his mother live. The door is unlocked, but he vigilantly locks it behind him like she taught him. She must have forgotten. Again. But that’s okay! Because Goro can reach the top lock now and knows she must be tired, that’s all.

There are no lights on except for the glare from TV, a forgotten channel making ambient noise he barely notices. He creeps towards her bedroom and slides the door aside to find it empty, to his relief. No strangers left to linger in the space he covets. The next place he knows to check is the bathroom, which is where he finds her laying on the ground. Her head lifts at the noise and her eyes widen when she sees he’s standing in the doorway.

“Go-chan?”

He’s seen his mother like this before. He knows she’s hurting but doesn’t know why (a much older Goro would understand and curse himself for not noticing sooner. But he was six, and a six year old wouldn’t know what to do. He would blame himself anway.). He lays down beside her on the floor and she tucks him underneath her chin. He pretends he doesn’t hear her cry, pretends that he hadn’t just been crying himself, and buries his face in her neck. Her hair is damp but smells like home, floral and fresh in the way that makes his heart ache. He is grateful it's not the lingering scent of cigarettes and sweat that sometimes would stain her skin in ways that would make his stomach churn.

He thinks she’ll be okay this time when he feels a tender kiss on the top of his head, on his temple, on his cheek when she finally pries him away from her throat.

He thinks she’ll be okay when she whispers I love you , against his forehead as she carries him into his room, and helps him get ready for bed.

He thinks she’ll be okay when she leaves a chaste kiss on his lips when they are finally curled up on his futon together, as she brushes away the tears that somehow, some way, had found themselves running down his puffy face again.

But he doesn’t hear her when she says I’m sorry with soft lips pressed to his damp eyelids. After his fingers have woven into the locks of her hair like a lifeline.

Because Goro is already half asleep, and doesn’t have the energy to kiss her goodnight.

ii. a relative

Goro is nine years old and he is numb.

It’s freezing outside and no one thought to give him a heavier jacket. So he stands there shivering, hands fisted under his armpits as he tries to breathe normally. The air burns his lungs each time he takes a hiccuping breath, and wishes more than anything that someone would wake him up. Because this has to be a dream. A cruel one.

Then someone grabs his face and kisses his cheek, starling him out of the haze that had settled upon him like a wet blanket. They had meant it to be a comforting gesture he would come to realize much later in his life, but his traumatized nine year old brain couldn’t handle it and he violently recoils.

The shove isn’t strong enough to deter this woman… an aunt? A great aunt? A friend of his mother? Goro doesn’t know. He’s never met her before. Or maybe he has? If so, she clearly wasn’t important enough to remember or leave an impact on his life before this moment.

All he knows is they violated his space and as he remembers what his mother--he chokes on the protest that formed on his lips as he repeatedly pushes himself farther from the person trying to hold onto him--he remembers what his mother had always told him.

“ Don’t let anybody touch you unless you want them to .”

He holds those words close to his heart, hoping the punches he’s throwing get his message across.

He didn’t want to be touched by anyone.

Anger bubbles up from somewhere in his gut. Why didn’t his mother do the same when all those “friends” touched her when she didn’t want them too? Why couldn’t she be strong enough? Why wasn’t he strong enough to protect her ?

Why wasn’t he enough?

Bile rises in his throat when he finally breaks the hold of the hands that were gripping his chin, his elbow... blatantly ignoring the affronted scoffs and whispers of what a disgrace, such a rude child, that circled in the wake of his outburst.

The only person he wants holding him is his mother.

But she is six feet under the dirt at his feet, and won’t ever be able to hold him again.

iii. a girl in the orphanage

Goro is eleven and is taken completely by surprise.

One moment he is huddled around a board game in his room with a classmate, and the next she is suddenly leaning into his personal space, pushing her face into his. His eyes go wide as he braces himself on the edge of the desk so as not to fall out of his seat.

He never really thought about kissing girls before it happened, and knew immediately after that he probably would never think about kissing girls again.

His body reacts faster than his brain and shoves her off. She gasps and stumbles back, her expression twisting in confusion at his rejection.

“Why,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “did you do that?”

“Because I like you, and I wanted to kiss you…did you not like it?

He had never been kissed like that before. He thought first kisses were supposed to feel special. But this...felt empty. And bluntly says as much to her.

She looks at him like he had slapped her across the face. “I-I thought...you liked me back?”

“What gave you that idea?”

Guilt only starts to settle in his gut when he sees the tears welling up in her eyes just before she mutters something akin to an apology and bolts out of his room.

He glares at the spot she had been standing.The longer he thinks about it, the angrier and more justified Goro feels. He doesn’t regret telling her the truth but… he drops his head on his arms.

He can’t even make friends right. Maybe he really was broken, like all the other kids say he is.

She gets adopted two days later.

He doubts she even remembers that kiss.

iv. a hook up

Goro is seventeen and it's a means to an end.

Goro hates these events, but has to attend to keep up airs with Shido and his... associates . To be available for Shido to both dangle in front of and threaten his inner circle with. The fact Goro fits in with them at all makes his skin crawl, and he drowns the urge to peel it off with the complimentary wine he’s (illegally) being served. It’s the least offensive crime he’s committed by a landslide.

Goro just needs to be seen and not heard. To both impress and intimidate. And it works every time.

But tonight, it works perhaps a little too well. Or Goro is a little too drunk to care anymore, and wants to get something, anything out of this hell he’s stuck in. Which is how he finds himself pressed up against a bathroom door by the son of some sycophant politician dragged along by his father hoping to get in Shido’s good graces.

The boy is his age, maybe a little older. Far too eager, excited, and sloppy. He kisses Goro hastily, before Goro could stop him (it’s not what they're in this bathroom for, and they both know it). The boy’s mouth is clumsy, and the kiss is full of inexperienced tongue and tastes of the sickly sweet moscato they’ve been chasing. When the boy tries to deepen the kiss, Goro takes a fistfull of this boy’s hair and yanks. It earns him a yelp.

Glaring down at him, Goro simply states, “On your knees.”

And the boy obeys without a second thought.

The boy doesn’t like him . He likes the image he carefully manufactured to be desirable. Even if the boy claims he went down on the Detetive Prince in a bathroom in some fancier hotel in Shinjuku, no one will believe him.

Back at his apartment, Goro slams down the mug of tea he had made to wash out the taste of the boy from the party. If that boy really knew what Goro kept buried underneath the layers and layers of masks he wore, what he was truly capable of, he would run away screaming.

But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like the boy’s affection was really for Goro . And Goro held none for the boy. It means nothing. A release, an excuse to feel something other than seething rage for a few minutes. A pitiable excuse for human connection Goro so desperately craved. How pathetic.

Goro begins to laugh.

And when his manic laughter breaks into sobs he can’t quite tell.

v. his rival

Goro is eighteen and it stops his entire world.

Stepping out of the Jazz Jin, Goro is quickly enveloped by the brisk November chill that finally settled itself in the streets of Kichijoji. It seeps through his clothes and makes him shiver, craving the warmth and atmosphere of the lounge they just left.

He shouldn’t even be here with Akira. Against his better judgment, Goro had reached out, invited him here one last time before…

Akira ducks around him as the door shuts, effectively cutting off the only exit out into the street.

“Akechi, can I ask you a question?”

Goro raises a brow. “I suppose.”

Akira removes his hands from his pockets, and suddenly seems unsure of what to do with them. Turning them over and flexing his fingers as he says, “Um, I’ll need you to close your eyes first.”

“Akira, we don’t have time for games,” Goro chides in that manufactured plastic tone of voice the Prince uses to let his fans down easy.

(Thinking Akira will probably try to shove some stupid trinket in his hands like last time. And Goro will have to repeatedly decline said trinket until Akira inevitably shoves it in his pocket while he’s not looking and only for Goro to find it later when he takes off his coat back at his apartment).

A soft laugh pulls him back to the present. And then, “Indulge me, detective . Please?”

Maybe it was the poorly disguised desperation hidden in Akira’s voice that made him cave to the delinquent’s whim, or Goro’s realization that this was perhaps the last time he would ever get to feel like a normal teenager before...

Goro rolls his eyes and gives in to Akira’s request with a sigh. “Alright.”

The sounds of Kichijoji’s nightlife are amplified when his eyes flutter shut. He becomes hyper aware of the cold clinging to his skin, the idle chatter of the passerby at the top of the stairs, milling about down the street.The welcoming scent of coffee that never seems to fade from Akira’s clothes.The sound of Akira stepping closer into his space.

Suddenly, alarms are going off in Goro’s brain as he register’s Akira’s hand cupping his cheek, skin to skin.

“May I?” Akira’s question is whispered so quietly, Goro thinks he feels it more than he hears it.

Goro swallows, unable to get his tongue to work to form words. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked Goro for his permission, for his consent, and he has no idea how to even voice how that makes him feel.

It’s blindsiding him.

A thumb traces over Goro’s bottom lip, and his eyes snap open. He’s peering right into irises of silver, sparkling from the string lights that hang around them in the stairwell of the Jazz Jin’s entryway.

“You said you would keep them closed,” Akira whispers, gaze dropping to where his thumb is still idling tracing Goro’s mouth.

Goro’s prolonged silence seems to unnerve Akira, for he begins to pull away. Without thinking, Goro’s hand shoots out and grabs the lapel’s of Akira’s coat, holding him in place. Goro wasn’t even aware he moved until Akira let out a small gasp.

“I never said that,” Goro murmurs, but his eyes fall shut anyway when Akira leans in again.

Akira’s lips are so soft, so delicate and gentle when he presses them against Goro’s mouth. They are everything Goro is not, and Goro is melting . It’s so much kinder than he deserves, far more genuine than Goro is even capable of being.

“To remember me by,” Akira breathes when Goro parts his lips to taste more of him, “since we agreed to stop seeing each other after this.”

Too soon the warmth from Akira’s mouth is gone, and so is the dark haired boy. Having assimilated into the shadows to leave Goro alone in that stairwell.

It changes everything and nothing at the same time.

Goro still puts a bullet in Akira’s brain two days later, but it's his own head that explodes.

vi. a kiss met halfway

Goro is still eighteen, and living on borrowed time.

“ Your life isn’t trivial! ”

Goro has never wanted to believe anything so badly before. But knows in the shell of his empty heart, that Akira is wrong.

That he’s just being a brainless, sentimental fool, giving Goro’s life more meaning than it ever had the right to have.

Yet the thief’s words echo in the recesses of his mind, with each step he takes away from Leblanc for them only resonate louder. By the time he reaches the main road, the words are deafening screams and he has to--has to--

Akira is just where he left him. Sitting there stupidly at the cafe counter with his face in his hands.

The door to Leblanc is ripped open. It shakes on its hinges as it absorbs the aftershocks of being slammed into the wall by the force of Goro’s hand. The jingle of the bell is drowned out by the roar of Akira’s voice in Goro’s ears.

Akira startles and whips his head in the direction of the noise. Goro can see the thief’s eyes are swollen and red, brimming with unshed tears as he pulls his hands away from his face. His mouth falls open, brows furrowed in shock or confusion, Goro isn’t keen on differentiating at the moment because he’s too busy closing the distance between them.

Goro is so sick of other people defining what his life is meant to be. So sick and tired of being manipulated, following orders like some kind of marionette on a string. And for nothing in the end. Because Goro is his own worst enemy the cards were stacked against him from the beginning.

So fuck it. Goro decides for the first time in a long time that he wants to be touched. To be held. To feel the weight of someone’s desire for him pressing in from all angles. He wants to drown himself in Akira until he can breathe nothing else.

And Akira meets him halfway.

They don’t speak of what they’re doing, as they tumble up the stairs to Akira’s room.

They do not name the desperate feeling they are chasing through each other’s clothes as they fall to the floor.

They refuse to acknowledge the truth that is passed between each other’s mouths, secrets they had kept buried beneath flesh now exposed.

But everything left unsaid hangs in the silent spaces between their bodies as they move as one.

+1 a kiss goodbye

Goro is (still) eighteen, and he is dying.

It takes less than a minute.

Goro does his best to keep the desperation out of his eyes but can’t keep it from his hands.

Hands that reach for Akira to roughly pull him into the helicopter after Maruki, who had been tossed aside like a ragdoll.

Goro drags the beaten and bloodied thief into his lap, and no one seems to pay them any attention, too focused on either watching the unconscious therapist in the back, the collapsing palace around them, or the brilliant white light they were heading for.

Akira goes to unhinge his helmet, and Goro lets him. It clatters to the ground, next to where Akira abandoned his own mask.

He lets Akira drag fingers drag across his chest, to travel up and bury themselves in his hair, to cradle the back of his head like the most precious treasure he’s ever laid hands on. So much of Goro yearned to be touched, and there was so little time.

Goro slides his own hands, still encased in clawed gauntlets, along Akira’s battered face. He uses the pads of his thumbs to trace the angle of Akira’s jaw as he crushes his mouth against Akira’s for the last time. Akira’s blood is sweet on his tongue.

For a split second, Goro wishes he could have been a stronger, more selfless man in his final moments. One who didn’t covet things that were never his ( would never be his ), or ruin the things he touches.

But in truth, in reality, Goro is selfish, always will be. He is all ragged edges, and sharp teeth, he is rough and all consuming and unrelenting. And ruining Akira is perhaps his most selfish desire of all.

Goro knows Akira deserves better, but Akira allows it willingly all the same. Letting Goro lay claim to everything Akira is, everything Akira could be for a moment. For a moment, it all belongs to Goro.

And in return, Akira takes everything from him. His revenge, his anger, his envy, his loneliness, his heart. Devouring what is left of Goro Akechi as the false reality shatters around them in a blaze of white light.

#Shuake #Akeshu #Shuake Week 2020 #Goro Akechi #Persona 5 #Goro Akechi x Akira Kurusu #forgot to post this here

40 notes · View notes