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softmothprince · 3 years

Text

dragon’s claim

Zhongli's sweet darling needs a... gentle, reminder of what exactly they are to each other

this is a collab piece with one of my friends~ they are much better at writing fluff than i am and it hits me in the feels

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She’s not pouting. Absolutely not. She’s also not glaring at the woman currently leaning on Zhongli’s arm, staring up at him with heart eyes as he rambles happily about the tea he was buying. Her arms are crossed and she leans heavily into the railing of the bridge, jaw clenched and teeth grinding.

No. She is not jealous of some… some… harlot! With a loud huff, she pushes off the railing and walks off the bridge, hearing her sandals click against the wood and then stone. Once she’s close enough, the tall geo archon looks up and gives that stupidly cute smile, cheerfully calling her name.

She refuses to acknowledge him and waits for him to finish his conversation. “Ready to go home dear?” he said with a sweet smile. She doesn’t respond and starts walking away back through the market as gently pulls her close to him. He sighs and leads her to a side alley, where she leans against a wall still not looking at him. He leans in close.

“Is my darling jealous?” He whispers, tucking her hair back behind her ear. His fingertips trace around her temple, then under her eye, before cupping her face. “You know I only hold affection for you, little one.”

He tenderly presses kisses over her cheeks and nose, placing a firm one on her lips. He pulls back enough to stare into her eyes, seeing the internal fight she is having. To submit to him or continue to pout and sulk. It makes him sigh and shut his eyes- as though a headache was creeping up on him.

“It seems I am going to have to… remind you, of that fact.” He decides, sliding his hands down to her wrists and brings her hands up to kiss them. His eyes peek open, glowing a warm amber in the dying light as he gives her a heated look. “I’m going to make love to you until your heart understands how much I love you.”

She pulls her face away and with a sad pout says, "Remind me of what Rex Lapis?"

He frowns, "That's not-"

"Remind me that only I get jealous and that the great Rex Lapis doesn't?!" she said with tears starting to fall down her face. "I'm the only one who gets possessive over you and you don't! It's like it doesn't bother you if someone else looks at me like that! Maybe next time Kaeya tries to-"

He slammed his hands into the wall, pinning her to it, "Kaeya did what?" he said with a low growl, his pupils having shifted into slits.

She shuddered for a moment. Seeing the amount of territorial possessive in his eyes made her heart stop and she struggled to find the words.

“Little one,” he said sternly, “I’m going to ask you again. What did Kaeya do?”

She took a deep breath. “The other day Kaeya came by the office and was trying to flirt as usual and he asked me if I wanted to go with him and have a real man for a master,” she answered nervously.

A fierce growl ripped from Zhongli’s throat, almost like a suppressed roar. She could see his struggle to stay composed as his fangs grew and scales started to appear on his neck.

“That damn bastard,” he said with another growl, “He has the audacity to try and take my precious mate from me?” She let out a small gasp. His horns were starting to poke through. “How dare he. If I see him again I’ll-”

He was cut off when he felt her hug him tightly. “I don't want anyone else!” she said before looking up at him. “The only master I want is you. My dragon, my Zhongli. So please don’t let anyone else try and take you from me either.” Her eyes on the verge of tears.

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “We’re going home. Now. I still have to teach you a lesson.” She nodded, “Yes Master.”

~*~

Her heart pounds in her chest, loud enough she wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it. Though, he’d had to be listening to that instead of the sounds coming from his hand playing with her cunt. After what had happened earlier, he had taken her home and immediately stripped them both of their clothes, pinning her down onto their bed.

It took him only a few seconds to pounce on her, his hand delving between her thighs to her pussy. It was wet and sticky, slick coating her thighs and his fingers. His narrowed gaze shifts from her pussy as he leans forward, latching onto her throat. His teeth scrape over her pulse, then travel down to the crook of her neck.

A deep scar laid on the soft flesh, marking her as his. His heart, his love, his mate. He eagerly kisses and nibbles around it, the scarred flesh much more sensitive and giving him the reactions he wanted. Her breath tickled his ear, every moan, sigh, and whisper of his name making him shiver.

He runs his other hand up her torso, cupping her breast and flicking his thumb gently over her nipple. She trembled more, waiting for him to snap and take her. She saw how fired up he had been earlier when just mentioning another man, she knows that flame is still burning fiercely in him.

And when he pulls away from her neck to look into her eyes, she can see it flickering in those piercing gems. A small bead of sweat drips down her neck and between her breasts, catching his attention. He doesn’t hesitate to follow it, kissing along the soft curve of her breasts, his tongue curling around her nipples when his mouth latches onto them.

Zhongli hums and pulls his hand away from between her legs, glancing at the mess he caused. She was far from cumming, but he had all night to… remind and teach her exactly what it meant to be his mate. Strong hands suddenly pull her across the bed until her legs dangle off the end, feeling a small burning from where the sheets rubbed.

He kneels between her thighs, nuzzling his cheek along the soft flesh and kissing the inside of her knee as he looks at her soaked pussy, a deep croon building in his chest. She shifts her still trembling legs, only to find them suddenly being grabbed and pinned to strong shoulders as a head of dark hair disappears between them.

She can hear him hum and whisper something, then say much louder in a teasing tone: “Itadakimasu~”

Something firm and hot swipes over her swollen clit, making her jolt with a loud yelp. Another swipe and she lets her head fall back onto the pillows, hands balling up into the sheets. Zhongli peers up at her through his lashes, taking in her reactions and growls when her thighs try to shut. He pushes them apart again, huffing against her cunt.

“Do not. Do that.” He scolds, then dives back in before she could speak, keeping his eyes on her face.

Loud slurps and wet smacks fill the room, blending in with his deep moans of pleasure. Her own suddenly reaches a higher pitch, her hips jumping when she feels his fingers slowly push inside and stroke the inside walls of her pussy. Her hand snaps down to tangle into his hair, tugging and causing more growls and moans to pour from his chest.

“I will never tire of this,” He purrs, pulling back slightly to look at how easily his fingers are sucked into her. “I will never tire of how beautiful you are when I pluck you like a lyre. The sounds you make are as sweet as birds' songs.” He dips down to suck on her clit, feeling her nails dig into his scalp.

“Your scent and taste are far better than the finest wines I’ve ever had. I will never tire of this.” He repeats, making sure that when he slowly stands up he catches her flustered gaze. “I will never tire of you.” He whispers, leaning over her body.

“Master-” She gasps and is cut off by him grabbing her knees, pushing them back against her chest.

She watches with wide eyes as his appearance smoothly changes, dark scales bleeding from his skin, fangs growing over his lips and horns poking through his hair. Zhongli rubs his fingers- no, they feel more like claws now -down her thigh and grabs his cock, lining up with her entrance.

His cock slides in easily, the walls of her cunt squeezing and sucking him in deeper. He bows his head, watching his dick thrust in and out, his breath picking up and sounds similar to growling building more and more. He returns his grip to her knees, leaning on them as his hips slap loudly against hers.

Sweat drips down his brow, his slitted pupil fluctuating as he looks at her face. Her cheeks are blushed a deep red, eyes rolling into the back of her head and mouth parted to let out moans and incoherent babbles.

“Master- Master ple-please, mo-more~” She sobs, nails scraping and digging into the skin of his arms and shoulders.

The small pinpricks of pain are lost in the throes of pleasure, his nerves burning with every thrust. He dips down to her ear, moaning and purring for a moment before managing to speak.

“Mate… you… breed… gonna fill you… so full… mine!…” He shudders, the familiar feeling of swelling at the lower part of his cock growing more and more. The knot kisses the outside of her cunt, dipping in ever so slightly before disappearing.

He grunts, one hand dropping her leg and going to grab her throat. He doesn’t squeeze to choke her, just presses enough to get her attention, growling her name when she only whimpers. Once those pretty eyes are on him, he lets his growing knot finally push in completely, feeling her entire body freeze as it registers the sudden sensation.

“Breathe, little one.” His voice is deeper. More rough than the usual smooth silk.

She finally lets out a sob, his knot pushing and rubbing her sweet spots deliciously. He manages a few more thrusts, until the knot is too swollen to pull out again. Does that stop him? Absolutely not. He humps and grinds like a man gone wild, slamming his mouth to hers to hide the animalistic sounds pouring out of him.

Her tongue flicks over his fangs, making him shudder and grip her tighter. He removes the hand from her throat and delves it between their bodies, finding her clit and- taking care of his claws -rubs it swiftly. A few more well placed thrusts, his teeth nipping her bottom lip, and she convulses around his cock while crying out his name.

The ravenette drops onto his arms over her, continuing to move as he himself cums thick and hot inside her. He presses his forehead against hers, sharing their breaths and staring into each other's eyes as they slowly come down from their high. Both of them are shaking, his darling more so.

Ever so slowly, he lets her leg go and brings his hand up to cup her face, stroking his thumb over her cheek and wiping away the tears of pleasure she let out. His other hand goes to hers, bringing it from his shoulder and to press against his chest- right above his racing heart. He can feel hers through their fingers.

He kisses her hand and then dips his forehead to meet hers while their breath slowly steadies and his knot recedes. Once he can move again he carefully begins to clean her up and wrapping her in one of the blankets before sitting next to her on the bed. His dragon features slowly fading.

He pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her and planting soft kisses on her temple as she nuzzled into his neck. He smiled at his darling as she relaxed in his arms, letting out a small laugh remembering her pouty face from earlier which caused her to look up at him. He kissed her forehead. She was so unbelievably cute when she got jealous or pouted. Something about her moments of attitude made him love her so much more.

He then looked into her eyes with a warm smile. "My precious darling, don't you know that I will spoil you with whatever your heart desires? Whether it be riches and gifts or," he kisses her hand softly, "my time and affection. Whatever you ask of me is yours."

She blushes and tries to hide her face in his neck but he holds her by the chin,

"Don't forget. Dragons mate for life and you darling are my mate. Understand?"

She nods her head, while gazing into his eyes.

"With words my dear," he says leaning in to graze his fangs on her neck as a small reminder of what they had just done.

"Y-yes sir," she says blushing.

He smiles and pulls her in closer while caressing her cheek. "Good girl. Now let's rest shall we? Rest and get all the cuddles you want from your Dragon."

#zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli x you #fem reader #genshin impact #reader #zhongli x reader #lemon #writing

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

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Ooh! I just discovered you from the Bad Things Happen Bingo and I love your writing already! Could I potentially request the Bleeding Out prompt as a prequel for the Soup for the Sick story you wrote?

Thank you for the ask! I had to look up prequel to make sure that you meant before the events of Personalized Caretaker Part 1, and not after 😂. Here you go! In reference to this post.

So, with that note, this piece happened before Part 1 of Personalized Caretaker.

Personalized Caretaker Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: blood, vomit, losing consciousness, faking an injury, drugged whumpee, fear, implied touch starvation

*not edited*

Civilian hopped onto her couch, legs resting on the armrest and flicked on the television, going straight for Netflix.

It was a normal day, serene and tranquil with the perfect amount of work that made Civilian feel good inside.

She lazily gnawed on a piece of beef jerky and selected The Kissing Booth for personal enjoyment. Something cheesy and romantic to vibe to as she decompressed- even the best days required a period of relaxation.

But, her period of relaxation was very rudely interrupted by a thud. Right outside her door.

Civilian froze, heart racing, as her mind involuntarily replayed every known horror movie. She was the victim, the bad guy was going to break in and slash her throat as she unceremoniously says, "Who's there?"

Civilian shuddered, turning off the television, and slowly standing up. She grabbed her remote control as a weapon and very, very slowly, like a ninja, stalked stealthily up to the door.

"Who's there?" Civilian asked. Crap, her fatal flaw. Now the bad guy was going to rush out and murder her, then the police would come and there would be ten more killings and then there would be a ghost that was a moaning lady with pale skin and black hair that was hung in the woods seventy-some years ago and then it is reincarnated to be a doll that haunts children and-

Civilian drew in a deep breath. Don't freak out, don't freak out. It was probably a bird that weighed the size of a man- a bad man- that crashed into the window and died. And died. And died. And died. It was gone. Instead of using a remote, she should be using a plastic bag.

"Stop it Civilian, you paranoid freak," she yelled at herself, very loudly, her voive taut with utter fear as she peered through the shades.

The first thing she saw was blood.

Smeared blood in the direction of downwards, leading directly to...

A body.

Civilian felt nausea rise in her throat as literally the blood drained from her face. She wasn't the first victim, the poor human in opening credits, she was the next victim and her house was the killer's stash.

Probably to blame her for the death. To redirect the suspicion.

She had to hide the body and burn it before the cops came. Oh boy, the killer probably already called them. Crap crap crap.

Civilian whisked the door open, tossing her grand weapon of plastic and onto a nearby table, and prepared to wrap the body in a black bag.

The body moved.

Civilian screamed.

The body was not a body, it was a living man.

"Oh my gosh sir? Sir! Are you okay? Sir! Sir!" Civilian grabbed her hair and started to paced. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening. There is a bleeding man on my fricking doorstep." She started to ramble, muttering nonsensical curses and words that weren't going to help the dying man.

She was panicking, completely hyperventilating, by the time the man moved more than a shaky, uneven breath.

His eyes opened, revealing a drop-dead gorgeous icy blue. Eyelashes fluttered in the most enearding way as the man struggled to keep his consciousness to himself. Lips quivered as he whole face bunched together in an expression of pain.

Civilian didn't know if she could handle it.

"Are you doing to die?" She asked, rushed and abruptly. The man looked his clouded gaze on her. It took a moment, but he spoke,

"Heroes. Heroes, they are coming. Run, get outta here. Get outta here!"

Civilian shrieked, glancing hurriedly around. An insane plot twist, the good guys were the bad guys and...

Wait, this wasn't a movie.

And why was this man so scared of the heroes? Unless, of course, he was...

A villain.

Civilian covered her mouth and dropped to her knees. A v-v-villain? Was at her door? Civilian pinched herself to see if she was sleeping, but the nightmare didn't vanish. She was stuck in reality. Someone go get her a soda...

Villain's eyelids drooped as he weakly extended his arm. "Please," he begged. "I need help." Then his arm went slack.

Civilian was close to hysterics.

But nonetheless, out of fear, she grabbed the man's arm and attempted to pull him inside. She silently cursed. Her twigs for limbs could barely carry a box of mason jars; what made her think she could drag a two hundred pound full-grown adult male?

It was a taxing project that left Civilian in tangled limps, just begging for sleep. The man didn't stir at all, not even when Civilian's fist went into the gaping wound in his stomach.

Aw man, that was disgusting. Civilian vomited into a nearby trashcan before returning to figure out WHAT THE HECK TO DO!!!

"Can you wake up?" Civilian asked. "Please? I-i... how do I... how do I do this?"

Civilian was on the verge of tears, but then she reminded herself. This isn't a movie, he won't be miraculously healed after a good night's sleep.

With a quick reference to Google, Civilian finally felt prepared. She ran to get a pillow and slipped it under Villain's head. His eyelids fluttered as his eyes cracked open, but then they slipped close again.

Next she removed his shirt and was quite awestruck at the sight. Other than the painted crimson, his abdomen really was the definition of ab-domen. Hard muscles were lined perfectly.

Okay Civilian, someone is dying, don't admire it.

She placed one hand above and the other in the wound to staunch the bleeding. After the blood flow slowed, she lifted his legs to rest on the armrests in a similar position that she was in earlier.

Next, she jumped some hydrogen peroxide in and bandaged the wound. The villain never awoke.

Once the looming danger was gone, Civilian just stood there awkwardly. Dried blood crusted on his skin, but at least it wasn't wet.

So she stood there, arms crossed as meaningless thoughts rushed through her head.

What do call a male ladybug?

Is grass the earth's hair?

Do pineapples come from pine trees?

Why is a villain on my couch?

Civilian sat down, keeping a good three feet distance from the assumed murderer, and turned on the TV to resume her movie.

She leaned her head back, exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, but she refused sleep. Especially when a villain was slumbering next to her with one arm over his face.

He looked like a monkey.

One of those pale faced, brown haired primates from Curious George.

Not that his ears were splayed out or anything, the monkey had very tiny, collected ears that hid under his fluffy brown hair. His nose also held that itty-bitty appearance, perfectly formed to his face with the faintest trace of freckles.

He was cute.

Like a monkey.

Or not, as Civilian found monkeys utterly disgusting.

So cute, like a kitten.

Civilian smiled, looking down at her lap. Another thing Wikihow said that Civilian scowled at and ignored before. Put the victim's head in your lap to calm and keep them comfortable.

It wouldn't hurt, right? The villain wasn't even conscious, and he lost so much blood that he probably wouldn't remember anything if he did wake up.

She just met him.

Stress can increase heart rate which may be detrimental. Civilian scrunched her forehead. Was that even true?

Who cares. Civilian scotted her skinny self over and laid the villain's head in her lap. Then, temptation started its charismatic monologue.

Stroke his head. Be nice, clean his chin. Wipe the dirt off his eye.

Civilian hesitantly put her hand on his grimey hair- ew, he needed a shower ASAP- and gingerly patted it. Patted it, like petting a dog.

It was embarrassingly awkward.

For the next few hours, Villain slept. Civilian also dozed off between getting yummy smelling candles to fend off the revolting scent od blood and crackers to aimlessly gnaw on.

She watched through the first Kissing Booth and the second one when a thought struck her.

Pain.

The villain would be in pain when he woke up.

And the only thing Civilian had was Ibuprofen.

Like those barely took the edge off a headache, much less a gash the size of a baseball.

She reached for her phone to call her friend at the local drug store. Putting on a squeaky voice, Civilian said,

"Can you, uh, get me something for pain?"

"Slow down, Civilian. What?"

"I don't know benadryl or a very strong pain reliever," Civilian bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. Stupid stupid stupid...

"What did you do?"

"I, uh, sprained my ankle."

"You sprained your ankle?"

"Mhm hurts like-"

"Okay! I don't need your swear word dictionary. I'll bring you something after work."

"Thanks, oh owowowowowowo."

"Goodbye Civilian."

The line clicked.

Civilian smiled to herself and popped another cracker in her mouth. Problem solved.

The blood on the door.

Crap.

Civilian set Villain's head back on a pillow and ran to the frontdoor.

Great, just great.

Civilian flipped the middle finger at Villain's sleeping figure and walked out the door. She would meet her friend before she saw the splatters of blood.

Civilian sat herself on the curb, throwing her newly "spraind" leg out, letting out an insanely loud groan, and leaned back on her elbows.

"Oh my goodness! Civilian," her friend leaped from her black car and ran over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Civilian waved it off. "Just wanted some air and the house is a mess, so."

Civilian, you are dumb.

"You sure? You asked to be hospitalized once because you stubbed your toe and the fact that a sprained ankle isn't bugging you... I am wholeheartedly worried."

"Don't be," Civilian chuckled. "How was work?"

Friend gave her a skeptical look. "Fine," she drawled.

"Good," Civilian nodded slowly, tapping the ground with her fingers. "So thank you for the painkillers."

"Mhm," Friend handed Civilian the plastic bag slowly. "How did you sprain it?"

"Uhhh fell out of the shower."

Friend looked genuinely concerned.

"Tripped and fell," Civilian repeated herself awkwardly. "On the ground?" Why did she have to say it as a question?

She was awkward and sounded hilariously awkward as well.

"Klutz," Friend joked, but her face was still taut with worry. "Need help getting inside?"

"No no!" Civilian exclaimed. Friend stepped back, so Civilian laughed to alleviate the tension. "I should walk it out."

"Ooookay," Friend said, nodding. "Good for you. I'm gonna go. I have a dinner date with this dude from Tinder."

"Oooo good luck," Civilian said, faking a wince as she stood up. Friend rushed in to help.

"Don't," Civilian cautioned, raising her "hurt" leg up. Friend looked at it and scowled.

"Dang leg huh? Well bye-bye. Don't fall out of the shower anymore. Got it?"

"Yup," Civilian said and fake limped back to her house as Friend sped away.

Missiom accomplished.

Villain was stirring when Civilian sat back down.

Perfect timing also.

She rummaged through the bag and grabbed a bottle of valium. She popped the recommended dosage out and approached Villain.

He was still too dazed and disoriented to stop Civilian from helping him swallow, but the second the water touched his tongue, he woke up fully.

"What are you doing? Don't touch me!" He yelled, pulling away. Civilian also backed away, a frown forming on her face.

"Me? I saved your life."

Villain was silent. "How much did you touch me?"

"Enough to save your life."

Villain jerked, looking around as if somone was in the shadows. Paranoid, Civilian copied him.

"What's wrong with you?" Civilian asked.

"You touched me?"

Civilian didn't say anything. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, examining the villain.

Villain jerked to his feet, swaying madly. Civilian's heart jumped. He was so unsteady...

He fell, but Civilian swooped in to catch him.

For a moment, the villain melted into her half-embrace, head resting gently on her shoulder, before pulling away. He bit his cheeks, seemingly trying to keep tears back.

"What... are you? Are, are you scared of getting a hug? Sheesh."

"Mmm no," Villain shook his head quickly, then sat down as if the feat made him dizzy.

"Mmm yes," Civilian sat down next to him. The villain looked confused, but that may be the drugs kicking in.

Soon Villain's eyes starting to droop and he swayed in his sitting position.

"Whatdya give me?" He slurred, a faraway look in his eyes. "Mm tired." He collapsed forward.

Civilian steadied him and helped him lay back down. He groaned pathetically and grappled at Civilian's hand, desperate to hold it.

He held her hand until he fell asleep.

#bad things happen bingo #villain whumpee #villain x civilian #civilian caretaker #blood tw #drugged villain #writing #whump #i'm sorry this took so long #i have to embrace civilians personality first

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

War Rages On: part 3 (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Words: 2451

A/N: if you don’t want to cry, word of advice, don’t listen to anything remotely sad. I literally have 3 potential endings to this story, don’t know which one I’ll choose. Part 4 will have a lot more action and part 5 will probably be the last. Don’t forget to keep tissue close by while reading ;) - enjoy!

Previously: part 1 - part 2

When Bucky walked inside the building he had once lived in, he felt anxious. Not for himself, but for Y/N. During the two hours his ride in the air lasted, he envisioned a thousand possibilities this could play out. He needed her to make it out of there. Whatever he would have to endure, he’d agree to any kind of torture so long as she was safe. He knew he wouldn’t bear to add her name to his already long list of victims. Her only fault had been to fall in love with him. It couldn’t lead her to death, not like this, not because of him. He would never allow Hydra to break the only pieces left of him she had managed to glue back together.

He knew the place by heart, so finding the cells where they would usually keep all their prisoners was fairly easy. Focused on the task, he was taking slow, measured breaths, watching every step he was making, avoiding the guards and the security cameras. He was silent. A ghost. He stopped at an entrance and sneaked out behind a soldier standing by the door. With a swift motion, he broke his neck and used his badge to access the place. Every movement felt rehearsed, a routine he had done a million times. He was mimicking the Winter Soldier with a perfection that still surprised him. He had almost reached the end of an endless hallway of empty cells when he stopped in his track.

“Y/N” He whispered. There she was on the dirty floor, laying right in front of him. She wasn’t moving and from the distance, she looked pale. Too pale to be alive.

“Y/N!” He repeated louder, not caring if anybody could hear him.

She didn’t answer, didn’t even move an inch. He took a tentative step toward her, afraid of what he would see when he would open the door. He raised his metal arm and grabbed the lock, tearing it apart in a swift motion. The gesture was effortless, the power colossal. He didn’t even blinked, his eyes remaining always on her frail figure. He slowly bent down, trying to ignore the bruises visible through her half-torn shirt and the dried blood everywhere on the floor. He laid a fearful finger on her throat and waited a second. Finally, he released a shaky breath, relieved beyond measure when he felt her heartbeat. She was alive.

Gently cupping her face, he brushed a hand against her cheek. His heart broke when he saw the shadow of a smile forming on her lips.

“Bucky” She muttered in contentment.

“Yes, doll. I’m here”

She didn’t open her eyes but tears slowly coursed their way down her face. Her lips parted and she leaned against his hand, inhaling deeply.

“We have to go, Y/N”

“You feel so real,” She answered. “Why do you feel so real ?”

She sounded upset, but not because of him. She could make out every detail, his scent, his voice, his touch. She wondered what kind of cruel game her subconscious was playing as she let his presence submerge her entirely. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, not understanding that, for her, there was no way he could be there. She had spent the last couple of days picturing him in her mind to ease the pain, to escape the torture. He was the fragment of her imagination keeping her alive. Her last shred of strength.

“Am I dying ?” She murmured. “Is that why you’re here ?”

“Y/N, open your eyes” He demanded with force.

“No..”

“C’mon, doll”

“You’ll disappear. You always do” She sounded broken, on the verge of snapping, but kept them closed.

“I promise I won’t” His voice cracked with every word, overwhelmed by the pain and helplessness when she spoke.

She grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly as she slowly opened her eyes. Her whole body was shaking, afraid the soothing sensation of his skin on hers would be gone and she would only see an empty room once again. It took her a moment to realize he wouldn't disappear and she started sobbing. Her shaky hands cupped his face, wiping his own tears. He gently laid his forehead against hers and she didn’t waste any more time and hugged him. She clung to him, her only safe place, as the battle for the remaining shred of her sanity raged. She tried to catch her breath but it was useless. This was days of emotions bottled up to survive, days of dreaming she could return to him.

“We’re gonna be okay” He kept saying, holding her tightly.

“Bucky …” She choked in despair. This was the safest she had felt in days.

“I’m here, doll”

He swallowed and blinked a couple of times, trying to stay strong and not break down.

“We have to hurry, Y/N” He reminded her after a while.

His voice seemed to bring her back to reality and she suddenly sat up, ignoring the dizziness and the pain it instantly ignited in her body.

“No, no, no, you have to leave!” She started begging, furiously shaking her head and clenched his shirt in desperation. “You can’t be here! You can’t! Please … Please go ”

“Y/N…”

“You don’t understand, they … they want you, Bucky. They’re using me to get to you” She put some distance between them and pushed him away when he tried to get closer. “You have to go”

“Not without you”

“You’re not listening!” She replied, frustrated.

“I am! And I am telling you i’m not leaving without you!”

He stood up and helped her do the same. She couldn’t hold on her own, too weak and tired. She pressed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself and his metal arm circled her waist.

“I’m taking you home”

“I don’t think so” A voice with a thick accent replied behind him.

The former assassin cursed under his breath and was quick to react. He pushed Y/N behind him, hiding her wounded body from the intruder. Suddenly on high alert, he stared at the man he once knew, a man hired by Hydra with the sole purpose of creating new super soldiers. He was the brain behind the Winter Soldier program. The Sergeant subconsciously grabbed the woman by her hip, bringing her as close to him as possible.

“Dr.Faustus” He greeted him without sympathy.

“At last we are reunited, soldier”

Bucky clenched his jaw so tight his veins were now visible. In all the time he had spent away from Hydra, he never thought he would come face to face with the doctor ever again. All their encounters had been turned into a distant memory, another one of his nightmares. The Sergeant was unexpectedly conflicted, like two parts of him smashing against each other for the first time, two very different men colliding together without his consent. The broken one felt scared, powerless, becoming once again a victim, while the assassin was already on the lookout, trying to find his way out of there.

Y/N could feel it. Hidden behind him, she laid her forehead on his back, defeated. His muscles were tensed under the pressure of his emotions and his grip on her hip tightened. She couldn’t contain her terror and silently cried. How could she save him now that they had him back ? What could she do when her body was in no shape to fight ?

“I wouldn’t advise trying to escape” The man spoke.

“You know I don’t back down without a fight” Bucky replied, eyeing the three agents surrounding the doctor. They were outnumbered.

“You might want to reconsider this time” He smirked viciously.

He made a step toward the couple, moving like a snake reading to suffocate its prey by strengthening its hold around their neck.

“Before you think about taking them down,” Hydra’s doctor began, pointing at the agents next to him “You should know she won’t survive. You see, the girl serves no purpose anymore. She was a mean to an end and she played her part perfectly. She got you right where we wanted you to be, up against a wall”

Bucky gritted his teeth in silent fury.

“I’m assuming she means a great deal to you, soldat” He sniggered irritatingly. He seemed to enjoy the emotional torture. “Now the real question is, how far are you willing to take this to save her life?”

Bucky looked around him and just felt a rage he couldn’t explain, a will to survive he never had before. Y/N grabbed the hand on her hip, entwining their fingers, and he closed his eyes. For a short instant, he held onto that comforting sensation, the sense of home she could bring to him by the simplest touch. He remembered the day they met, the exact moment he had fallen in love with her and the day they had promised forever to each other. He had a collection of precious memories they had built, engraved in his heart, and each one of them had the power to lessen his pain and lighten the weight on his shoulders. They needed more time to create their magic, to turn the horror they had endured into sparkles of distant memories. More time to live the life she had given back to him. But even more so, he needed her to survive.

“If I surrender myself, what guarantee do I have you’ll let her go ?” He offered.

“No!” Y/N shouted, trying to move around Bucky. He didn’t have to use much effort to push her back.

The doctor laughed, pleased his plan was working flawlessly. He turned on his heels and nodded at one of the soldiers next to him. The man took a phone out of his pocket and handed it to the former assassin.

“What is this ?” Bucky questioned him, ignoring the pleading eyes of the woman begging him to not give in.

“A message” Dr.Faustus replied. “With coordinates to this place, addressed to your Captain”

“This isn’t enough”

“Press the button and send it yourself, then”

Bucky gave him a wary look but took the phone nonetheless.

“I have a condition” He raised his eyes to stare at the man.

“You are in no position to negotiate, soldat”

“If you want me to follow you willingly, you will listen”

He pursed his lips in annoyance.

“Very well”

Bucky glanced back at his girlfriend, barely holding on her legs but still ready to kill him herself for what he was about to do.

“Let me have a moment with her” He pleaded, his voice deep with emotions.

“If you plan to escape …”

“I won’t” He cut him with a promise he would keep.

He seemed to ponder his options for a moment before he gave a nod, accepting the request. Bucky dropped his head in defeat and pressed the button on the phone screen, sending the message to Steve and praying he would be there soon to get her out of there.

The doctor turned around, gesturing to the other agents. In less than a minute, the room was empty and they were alone for what would probably be their last moment together. Bucky made a step toward the woman, knowing whatever time they had it would never be enough, but before he could do anything she gathered all the strength she had left and slapped him across the face.

“I hate you!” She shouted, tears streaming down her face. “I hate you!”

He had expected her anger but her words still hurt him. He couldn’t begin to understand what she was feeling when his own heart was already being torn apart.

“I had to…”

“Why didn’t you fight ?” She choked. “Why … why did you gave up on us ?”

“I gave up on me!” He told her in a deep voice, quickly closing the distance between them and cupping her face with force. “I’m choosing you over me”

“There is no me without you, Bucky” She muttered

“They don’t know the Winter Soldier is no longer here” He told her, trying to reassure her. “Whatever they have plan for me, it’s not gonna work”

“You don’t know that”

He laid his forehead on hers and a tear on his own rolled down his cheek.

“I know I need you to stay alive. I’ve lived on borrowed time long enough, Y/N, maybe …”

“Don’t you dare!” She cried, pushing him away. She struggled to stay on her feet but she couldn’t seem to care. “I swear to god, Bucky, I will kill you myself if you dare giving up now!”

“Steve is gonna find you and bring you back” He continued.

She shook her head and her eyes grew hot, the tears welling so quickly it was impossible to blink them away.

“Please don’t break my heart” She whispered.

His lips started trembling and he choked on a small but audible sob. Losses after losses, he had shed his own shade of tears, had been broken beyond measure and brought to hell. This was something else. Pain had a sweet taste of horror and self-hatred when it was felt under the power of all his sanity.

“Let me hold you” He begged her.

Despite her anger, she didn’t waste any time and sank her face into his chest, letting him comfort both of them. He kept her close, looking down at her with gleaming eyes, wishing he never had to let go as he tightened his arms around her.

“I love you” He spoke right next to her ear. “Like I’ve never thought it was possible to love. You picked up every pieces of me you could find and glued them back together. You built the man I am today from scratch with your kindness, your resilience and your love. You gave me a second chance, and a second life by your side, and what a life it has been. You are my world, my soul, but most importantly, my home. You will always have me, doll.”

“Don’t say goodbye like that” She muttered, an aching wound opening deep in her chest as the tears kept falling.

“This isn’t goodbye, I’ll make damn sure of that. Wherever you are is where I am too. That’s the deal we made, right ? I’m with you till the end of the line”

“This is the end of our line” She forced up the words.

He raised her chin with a finger to look into her eyes and in that moment they kissed, together in each other's protective embrace.

“It will never be”

“Promise me you’ll give them hell”

“I promise I’ll fight with everything I have”

Tag list below the cut

@briannareneea985 - @bangtanxberm - @kissmyoops - @steve-is-daddy - @tylard-blog1 - @harprs - @animegirlgeeky

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #Winter Soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagines #fatws #tfatws

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7soulstars · 4 years

Note

hello! can i request something funny with thranduil? ony if you're comfortable with writing itof course.

he took y/n in *like Elnord did with Aragorn* but she is a huge troublemaker,always pulling pranks on elves or sneaking to the woods and putting herself in danger, giving him many heart attacks in the process, yet he can't stop loving her.

*screams* I love this !! Of course I’ll write something based on this ! Let’s go !!

Erevan Ilesere’s Petal

Pairing: Thranduil x Immortal! Reader

Warnings: Cavity Inducing fluff, Angst if you squint, Decent writing ??

Summary: No matter how much of annoyance Y/N is,Thranduil cannot stop adoring his lady.

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

Erevan Ilesere ; The elven god of mischief and tricks

Nobody knew who Y/N was, what she is, where she is from or why was she found in the center of the clearing at the heart of the forest Mirkwood. Neither did she. She knew nothing of herself except her name. But that didn't intrigue Thranduil, the blue petal mark etched on her skin did.

The battle of the five armies had been a turning point in Thranduil’s life, he was at calm with himself, but at the same time he felt lonely. He let his son go on an adventure that he’d not know when he would return from, he was at peace with his wife’s death.He had to let her go.Though she would always have a special place in his heart. He had to focus more on his people, flourish his kingdom and move on. But he felt empty.

He felt alone.

So went he found Y/N heavily injured at the clearing, he didn’t hesitate to take her in.

Y/N was different. Not in normal mannerisms she was not. It was unexplainable. She was different.

After she was taken in by Thranduil and healed, she said she knew nothing of her kin or where was born. All she remembered that she had been living the life of a ranger for as long as she recalls.

She had always been alone.

But that never stopped her from being vocal. She was bold, so bold that she would barge into the court meetings to give the most random suggestions, make jokes or even put flowers in Thranduil’s crown during it. And he would always let her, sometimes even smiling.

The elves didn’t expect it. Valar! No one on Middle Earth would have.

Y/N became the most adored individual in the entirity of Mirkwood. She made the place happier, the forest was healing and things got better.....

But everyone has things others do not enjoy about themselves. Y/N did too. She was chaos in a bottle.

Once she had covered onions with caramel and gave it to the palace guards claiming they were caramel apples. The other time she had paired along with with Mëludir, Lindir’s brother who was at Mirkwood and had filled the sweet Lembas bread with mayonnaise instead of cream which had everyone at the dinner table spit it out except Elrond who as wierd as it seemed, took a liking to it. She had put a rat inside Tauriel’s hair, having her scream across the hall. And Rumil and her had filled Haldir’s shoe with mud which had forced the two to hide for the entire day later with Y/N hiding behind Thranduil and his robes flinching everytime Haldir was yelling at her.

“Lady Y/N this is not a joke I had those shoes cleaned yesterday and now you have ruined them! And Rumil you are no less! Is this how you treat me? Your Gwanur(brother)?? Lady Y/N that is not it-”

“Haldir enough leave her be”,Thranduil ordered as he hid you behind him even more as you clenched his robes.

“But-”

“I had helped her put the rat in Tauriel’s hair....are you going to discipline me too?”

“Apologies nin aran (my king), I am just simply worried she will get herself in trouble.....”

“Hmmm you are dismissed.”

With that Haldir had left pulling Rumil along with him. Thranduil looked down to see Y/N poking her head out from behind him and giving him the biggest and most sweetest smile possible. The elven king let out a chuckle as he shook his head. Freezing when she gave him a hug before she ran out mouthing a thank you.

Thranduil would always side Y/N, even if he wouldn’t admit that she would scare the life out of him everytime she would do something dangerous, the others would warn him about the dangers she puts herself into but he would refuse to believe them. It wasn’t that he believed she wouldn’t do something like that but it was because he believed Mirkwood would be impossible for her to get out of without help.

But oh how wrong he was.

Ever since Y/N came to Mirkwood a few decades ago Thranduil’s daily schedule had always been the same. Wake up, do formal chores (like bathing, having breakfast with Y/N etc.) ,attend court and hear his people out, roam around palace halls or in the kingdom, spend his free time with Y/N and then spend his time researching something in the library before sleeping. This night was no different except there was an erractic knocking on the library doors. Y/N’s lady in waiting pushing through with a very alarmed look on her face. Thranduil cocked an eyebrow at her, ready to yell at her to disturb him at this time of the night. But the look on her face made him wait for an answer.

“Your Majesty, Lady Y/N she- she-”

“I would appreciate if you complete your sentence”

“She dissapeared !”

Thranduil’s eyes widened. An unfamiliar look passing across his face as he unseathed his sword and speed walked out of the library.

“HALDIR !”

“Lord Haldir and the patrolling team is looking for her in the city right now my lord ! She is nowhere to be found !”, the elleth contiued following him.

“SEARCH EVERY CORNER OF THE KINGDOM !” ,he yelled at her before mounting his elk and riding into the forest.

He searched for her, by the clearing, the spiders nestings, the old bridge, the narrow pathway that lead to the darker parts of the forest. But she was nowhere.

“Y/N !?”,he yelled for the 14th time, his voice hoarse is eyes seaching frantically. Orcs and Wargs always preyed at night it wasn’t safe.

Splash

He heard the movement of water not much far from where he was he panicked, his elk moving swiftly but gracefully enough to not startle whatever was making the noises but this action was quite ruined by Thranduil yelling out the missing lady's name startling everyone before his eyes. Both him and his elk froze. There Y/N sat, by the backwaters looking at them with eyes widened as big as saucers, along with who seemed like mermaids that swam away as soon as they saw the elven king splashing Y/N with water wetting her completely.

“Thranduil? W-What are you doing here?”,she stuttered.

Thranduil moved closer to her watching as she visibly tried hiding something behind her back. He noticed how she was barefoot and scratches and cuts littered across her feet making his jaw clench.

“What are YOU doing here?”, the blonde elf hissed clearly angry but Y/N couldn’t point out why. Before she could even reply he yanked her hand from behind her back before stilling completely. His eyes unmoving from the contents in her hands. Forget me not flowers..... They had stopped growing in Mirkwood years ago. Drooping and dying more every moment the royal family distanced itself from each other, In grief, pain and misery.

“Where did you-”, ah the cuts on her feet, the dirt on her hands.....she brought them from out of the forest...

“I had seen them on our trip back from Rivendell months ago.....They were dying....I asked the mermaids to help me save them with spells, but you came interrupting them....”,she said in a soft voice, on the verge of tears breaking Thranduil out of his trance as he panicked,cupping her face with his larger hands. “I am sorry Lady Y/N I was simply worried about you, why did you not tell me? I could have helped you...”,he asked looking directly into her eyes as she poorly attempted to not shed any tears. “I didn’t want to bother you. I already bother everyone else. I don’t want to loose all of you..”, she said, tears unevitably falling and rolling down her cheeks. Oh... She thought she was alone...she had never asked for help from anyone....she felt insecure no matter how much everyone loved her....he knew someone who was like her few decades ago.

Him.

“You could never !”,he intended to say softly but it came out as a yell, making the woman flinch. He was mad, at himself for not noticing,for dismissing hints. “You would never......we care for you too much. Valar ! I care about you too much ! Everytime you do something dangerous my heart leaps....but I cannot resist your eyes, your words, you tempting smile.....Look at me....I do not wish to loose you like lost the rest of my people I cared about......”, Thranduil finished, his face only a finger distance away from the girl. “What are you doing to me Y/N ?”, he whispered, the other still trying to process everything. “Can I kiss you”, she whispered back. “Please...”,Thranduil said,his voice almost coming out as if he was begging.

And she did as the king asked, lips moving softly yet with love, for the first time in his entire life, the blond elf had let himself be completely vulnerable. His posture,his personality melting, almost as if a light glow covered around them. Even his dragon fire scar revealing itself for the first time to Y/N as they broke the kiss. Thranduil didn’t flinch when touched it, when she left a lingering kiss on it, smiling that wide smile he adored so much at it. The stayed that way before she leaned into his chest for a while,his arms around her. “No matter how much chaos you create I will never hate you...”, he said as he took in her scent.

Splash!

The voice echoed startling the two as the separated from each other, their faces red, only to see the group of mermaids hiding behind the rocks, their eyes on Y/N’s hands

The flowers were back alive and blooming....

That was the moment Thranduil knew that he had faced dragon fire once, but for his Lady he would face it again and again. He couldn’t help adoring her.

Back at the palace library the book was well forgotten, the pages flipping till it rested on a particular page littered with blue petals

Erevan Ilesere‘s Petal,his descendant on Middle Earth.

But that is a story I, Gandalf will tell you another time.

--The End--

Finally ! Behold ! I am done after ages of procrastination! Thank you for requesting this fic it was really fun to write ! I may have gotten a bit distracted but did you like the twist ? I'm sorry if it's not really great but I really tried my best🥺.I really hope you did ! @gorgeourrific-nerd you too ! I think it is a bit similar to your request I hope you liked it too ! The rest of ya’ll too I ain’t forgotten ya’ll. Pleade like and reblog my posts if you like them ! Feedback is highly appreciated and please do not plagarize my work. I really work hard on them ! Thank you for supporting me! I love ya’ll so much !!

~Love, Hri

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Text

Still Star-Crossed Part Nine

Sequel to Star-Crossed Lovers, please read Sad Ending Version Two for this to make sense

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Requested: No (Requests are closed unless they are apart of the pinned post)

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slightly nsfw no major descriptions but you know what they’re doing. This series and the one its based on is 18+, blood, torture, violence

Description: Jason’s been gone for nearly two years. Y/N has taken up the Red Hood mantle, but things are about to become complicated.

A/N: The epilogue will be up later today! And I’ve begun working on the version where it relates back to Sad Version One.

The warehouse was empty and Jason felt like he wanted to tear it down brick by brick. This was the place where the other Jason had died. This is where she had held him for the last time as he had taken his last breaths. He wanted to rage and scream, but that wouldn’t be productive. Y/N was still out there somewhere and she needed help. She might only have hours left and he didn’t think he could handle walking in and seeing her dead.

He couldn’t do that to himself again.

The others were going back to the drawing board, but it was Damian who walked over to Jason. “We’ll find her.”

“But will we find her in time?” Jason asked.

Damian didn’t want to let that thought cross his mind. “She’s tough, I know she can handle this.” Then a look crossed his face, “There’s one other place, the warehouse where she supposedly died the night she ran to Metropolis. The entire building wasn’t destroyed in the blast. They could be there as well.”

“Give me the coordinates,” Jason told him.

“Don’t go alone,” Damian knew that if he handed that over then Jason would leave without them.

“Damian,” his tone was full of warning.

Damian sent the coordinates to his suit, “We’ll be right behind you.”

That was all Jason needed to hear before he took off toward his bike.

“Sweetheart, I need you to wake up,” the voice was familiar and comforting.

Y/N cracked her eyes open, “Jay?” How could this be possible, hers was dead and the other one was back on his earth. When she took in the sight of him she noticed that it was her Jason. The only thing that tipped her off was that his eyes were blue instead of green. “Am I dead?”

He gave her a sad smile, “Not yet, sweetheart, but you will be if you don’t hold out for a little while longer.”

She groaned, “Everything hurts, Jay. They’re not going to find me in time.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Jason turned serious. “He’s coming okay? The other me, he’s on his way. Just hold on, he’ll be here soon.”

“No he’s gone, he’s on another earth,” she said.

Jason shook his head, “He came back sweetheart, he’s racing here right now so you need to be strong for me.” She felt his lips press against her forehead, “Me and the other you will be waiting for you two when it’s your time, but until then the two of you gotta look out for one another, do you hear me? We’re waiting, but it’s not your time yet.” He looked around and then said, “I gotta go, I love you.”

“No don’t go, Jay,” she whined. “Stay with me, stay until he gets here.”

His hand held onto hers, “I’m always with you, sweetheart. I’ll never leave you.” There was a commotion and Y/N turned her head to see what was going on. Her vision was growing fuzzy but she saw a Red Hood entering the warehouse and Sionis shouting something about how he was supposed to be dead. “Told you he would come,” her Jason whispered, almost a little cockily, before she felt his hand slipping from hers.

There was more activity as Clark and the others also entered the warehouse but Jason had already made it to her and the last thing she heard before the world went dark was, “Stay with me, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“He said you’d come,” was all she managed before the world went dark again.

Jason didn’t know what that meant, but he untied her and lifted her into his arms, cradling her close. Her body was bruised, bloodied, and broken but her heart was still beating. Small miracles, he had to remind himself. She was still alive, he had made it. In the distance, he could hear police sirens and the Joker laughing, but his eyes were solely on her.

He reluctantly handed her off to Bruce who sped away toward the cave. Jason turned back to where Sionis and Joker were kneeling on the ground. Barry and Clark respectively holding them. Dick seeing the way Jason’s hands were flexing, placed a hand on his chest, “Don’t Jay.”

“They deserve every ounce of pain,” he seethed. “What they did to her. What they were going to do to her. I want to do that to them.”

“And they’d deserve it, but if Y/N can keep from murdering Sionis then you can too. It’s not our job to play judge, jury, and executioner.”

“If she doesn’t live, neither do they,” was all he said before heading toward his bike to follow Bruce back to the cave. He could let the others handled things from here, he didn’t trust himself not to murder them if they said anything to him.

There was an ache deep in her bones and she had to force herself to open her eyes. Everything was bright and there was something warm holding onto her hand. Turning her head she winced slightly but found Jason lying there asleep. She managed to squeeze his hand slightly and he jerked awake and found her staring at him.

His green eyes were right and filled with relief, “Oh thank God, you’re awake.”

“You’re here,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “How are you here, Jay?” She began to sob and Jason quickly maneuvered himself onto the bed and pulled her into his arms making sure that he didn’t hit any of her injuries. “Barry came to get me as soon as you went missing, they wanted more people looking for you. The others have been in and out of this room checking on you.” He kissed her forehead and she cried harder, both in relief and because she didn’t think that anyone was going to find her, but he had. “Let it out,” he whispered.

When she was done sobbing into his shirt she said, “Are you going to go home again?”

He swiped at her tears with his thumbs and smiled sweetly at her, so different from how they were when they had first met. It seemed like ages ago when they were both at each other’s throats and they seemed to hate the other. “No, I’m staying right here. Someone’s gotta make sure you stay out of trouble, sweetheart.”

Relief and happiness surged through her and she snuggled closer to him, not caring at how her body protested. “Good, I think they’d have to pry you out of my hands if they wanted you to go back.”

He held her quietly for a moment and then asked, “Sweetheart, when I came for you there was something you said. You told me that he said I would come for you. Who was he? For all intents and purposes, everyone in that warehouse knew that your Jason was and is dead.”

Y/N remembered what she had assumed was a hallucination and said, “My Jason came to me. I think I was on the verge of dying and he told me that he needed me to hang on.” Her voice was soft, “He said that you were coming and that I had to stay strong. Then he told me that the two of us needed one another and that your Y/N was with him and waiting for the two of us, but that it wasn’t our time yet.”

Jason didn’t believe in a lot of things, but he wondered if her Jason had actually come to her. “He mentioned my Y/N?”

“Yeah, he told me that they were waiting for us, but it wasn’t our time,” she looked up at him. “I don’t know if the pain was just making me hallucinate or if he was actually there, but it makes me feel better that they’re both looking out for one another.”

Before Jason could respond there was a knock on the door and Alfred entered the room, “Miss Y/L/N, it’s so good to see that you’re awake.”

“Hey Alfred,” she managed to sit up and give the older man a smile. “You got the good stuff for me.”

Alfred chuckled and handed over the pain pills, “I’ll let the others know that you’re awake and feeling better. Are you hungry? I can make something for you if you’d like.”

“That would be great, thank you, Alfred,” she said after she downed the pills. He left the room and Y/N turned back to Jason, “I give them five minutes before they descend upon this room like a pack of hungry wolves.”

“Oh I give it three minutes, they’re probably waiting at the end of the hall.”

Almost immediately after he said that the door to her room burst open and the boys and girls were there. They came in like a tornado surrounding her and asking her how she felt and if she were all right. She answered all of their questions and promised them that she was feeling better already since the pills would be kicking in soon. They stayed for a little while until Alfred brought food for her and then gave her and Jason some privacy.

Y/N was halfway done with her food when there was another knock on the door. Both of them expected it to be Bruce but Barry poked his head inside. “Clark had to return to Metropolis Y/N, but he sends his well wishes and told me to tell you to call him when you were awake and feeling up to it.” His gaze then went to Jason, “I went back to your earth to tell them that you wouldn’t be returning. The Dick from your earth asked me to pass this along.” He held out an envelope with Jason’s name scrawled on the front. “Glad you’re awake Y/N, call me if you need anything.” Then he was gone too leaving Jason staring at the envelope.

“You can leave if you need a moment to read it privately,” Y/N said softly. She knew how personal letters could be.

“No it’s all right, I don’t have anything to hide.” He pulled out a knife and sliced the envelope open and took a breath before taking the letter out and beginning to read.

Littlewing,

I’m glad to hear you made it in time to save the girl. Tell her that I say hello and maybe someday I can meet her. I’m sure she must be a saint if she has to put up with your stubborn ass all the time.

But in all seriousness, I’m glad to know that you’re chasing your happiness. Like I told you the other night in the bar that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. I just want you to be happy and if being with her on her earth is what does that then more power to you.

I’ll miss you, and don’t worry I’ll make sure Y/N’s grave has fresh flowers and that people visit her. I think she’d be happy for you too, I saw the way she looked at you and I know that she would just want you to be happy.

Good luck, Littlewing. And go to Metropolis. Don’t keep up the vigilante life, settle down and get an actual job. You always wanted to be a writer, do that.

Your brother,

Dick

Y/N squeezed his hand, “You okay?”

Jason smiled at her, “Yeah, I’m okay. So how do you feel about a change of scenery?”

That made her laugh and then she winced at the sharp pain around her ribs, “Okay laughing is not a good thing to do right now.”

He kissed the side of her head, “I’ll kiss them and make them better later.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Todd,” she pointed a finger at him and then shifted again trying to recapture the comfort she had had moments ago before she disturbed her bruised and broken ribs. “But to answer your question, I could definitely use a change of scenery, but maybe once I’m not in so much pain.”

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” he began talking to her about what they could do, and soon they both drifted off to sleep again.

Bruce entered the room and found them like that. Dick stood beside him, and only looked at Bruce when his adoptive father said, “They’re going to move to Metropolis.”

“It’s for the best, they both could use a fresh start,” Dick said.

Bruce couldn’t agree more. Maybe it had been a mistake to ask Jason to go back to his earth the last time. He wouldn’t make it again, not when he saw them looking peaceful together on her bed. His brain was already forming plans in his head about how he was going to help them out in the future and a rare smile graced his features.

He already knew he’d face some pushback from them, but he didn’t care. He wanted to take care of them and he was more than happy to do anything to ensure they were safe and happy in their new lives.

#Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd x Fem!Reader #Jason Todd x Reader fluff #Jason Todd x Reader angst #Jason Todd #Jason Todd fanfic #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd fluff #Jason Todd angst

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Text

I am fighting for you.

Remus can’t easily escape the most heart-wrenching memory from his mind that was clinging stubbornly, only making his transformation worse; Sirius Black fighting alone against seven hooded opponents, the red sparks suddenly hitting his chest, and the screams echoing the alley. How can Remus forget the fact that those howls craving nothing but death, were of the most foremost person in his life, the only hope, only dream, only love, only the reason to keep living in this war. Sirius was his everything and the only thing.

Just for once, he wanted to live...

Just for once, he wanted to unfeel the pain...

Just for once, he wanted to love without fear...

Remus was lying crumpled on the floor, the pool of his blood beneath his wounded body. The sharp breeze of the cold dawn swishing from the opened window of the Shrieking Shack, that spasmed his already trembling, naked body. He peeked from his one of his heavy eyes to see the deteriorated window that was hanging on its rusty hinges, waving in and out, back and forth by the currents of the wind, and the sky was light blue as if witnessing an almost twilight sky, except it had started getting brighter. The view was quite scenic enough for Remus to distract him from his physical pain. However, the pain was not just physical.

He barely acknowledged the severely maimed hand of his own that was laying lifelessly before him. His wand was not far from his reach. He could grab it and cast healing charms at his wounds and he could apparate back to his flat. It was all physically possible, and yet very unwanting.

No one had come to accompany him on his full moon, and he was not mad. He was just tired, and so was James who was fighting for his wife and son, and Peter who was fighting for his dying mother, and Sirius...who was he fighting for?

Suddenly, the previous day enrolled before him, again.

"NO SIRIUS! COME BACK! APPARATE BACK!"

Remus was shrieking like the way he had never shrieked before, the blood dripping from his forehead, trickling down his eyelid, didn't bother him because they were outnumbered by another troop of death eaters who had apparated right after James had taken an unconscious Lily back in the nearby shop in Diagon Alley. There was fire, jets of red and green sparks, ashes of the burnt shops that once used to glitter with vivid colors and had the whiff of excitement for going to Hogwarts.

And then there was Sirius in the middle of the alley, fighting alone against seven hooded opponents. His eyes were hard and furiously fixed on the masked people. Remus could see how Sirius' wand was not relaxing for a single second, blocking every curse, jinx, and hex.

He wanted him to stop! He wanted him to come back! He wanted him alive! Why was he not listening to him? Remus' throat felt thorny because of screaming pleas for Sirius to come back. No voice on earth was going to stop him, no jerk was going to make him retreat from his charge. What was he fighting for?

"WHAT ARE YOU FIGHTING FOR!?" Remus cried.

Sirius abruptly stopped and his widened gaze fell on Remus. And that was when a bitter voice yelled, "Cruicio!"

In the fleeting moment, Sirius' body thrust to the ground as the red spark hit him in the chest. And then, there he was violently twitching, jerking, reaching nowhere, his eyes rolling, his screams were echoing in the alley.

"KILL ME! KILL ME NOW!"

Remus' chest was tight, and his already trembling body felt a strange shudder when that memory replayed in his head. He was struck with the most bitter realization; This was it. This was his reality. This was the true picture of his life in which he had to suffer with infinite amount of pain in every way possible, especially by watching the pain of his loved ones, and above all, Sirius.

Something broke inside him—like his ribcage suddenly lost the strength that held him and his stiffened muscles slumped down in defeat as he sobbed over his misfortune. His howls were making him realize how much he was torn inside. His tears were dissolving in his blood, and he wanted everything to stop, the war, the suspicion, the terror, the agony of being a werewolf, a terrible lover, and...just himself. He wanted to end...die. There was a voice inside him saying that there was a life beyond death where he could live without pain, love without fear.

Just for once...only for once...was it too much to ask?

Crack.

He immediately recognized the familiar footsteps, the strong scent, and the heartbeat which suddenly panicked him. How can he wish to die when he had one person who loved him more than they loved themselves?

"Merlin...Moony..." Sirius murmured under his breath, as he rolled Remus over so that his back was against the floor, exposing his bare chest. Sirius' eyes were tensed but he was wearing a poker face. Remus knew that he was pulling himself together just for him.

Padfoot doesn't cry when Moony cries, he will not yell when Moony yells—even if he yells completely unfairly—that was the rule because that was how they had been able to make this far.

Remus was just serenely studying Sirius' face: Those grey eyes were concentrated in casting healing charms all over his body, his nostrils were flaring but there was no hint of anger on that face, just deadpanned, he was frowning at the very unexpected wounds, his mouth was formed in a thin line, and his dark hair falling in his eyes which he didn't bother tugging behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. And then the memory flashed in Remus' brain, again, and suddenly Sirius Black looked ten times more precious than he was right now. Remus didn't realize a whimper escaping his mouth until Sirius' eyes stopped to meet his.

Remus felt his heart skipped a beat, but there was a strange sense of satisfaction in exchanging a long stare. He could stare at him forever. He lifted his trembling hand and reached for Sirius' hair as he tugged a thick lock behind his ear, and a tear escaped Sirius' eyes.

"Don't leave me." Remus whispered.

"Selfish, are you?" Sirius' voice was hardly recognizable. Remus nodded, despite the pain in his heart, he knew how raw Sirius would become when he had been hurting. Sirius' plain expressions exchanged with the helplessness. Remus' hand was still tracing his damp face.

"Let's run away, then. Far away. Just you and me." Remus said, wanting to be just as raw as Sirius.

Today they were not being fire and water. They were being fire and fire, water and water. This was going either going to end in flames or a raging flood.

Little did Remus know, Sirius started sobbing as he shook his head. They were eventually back to being themselves. This was how it always ended. Either of them would break, and the other is there to pick up the pieces.

As much as broken Remus was, physically, Sirius was wounded deeply as he cried. He had never cried when Remus was suffering. He had known how to stay strong, but this time he was quivering in between his sobs.

"We wouldn't have to return, you know. Let's do this." Remus was also silently crying, but that didn't mean that he was ignoring Sirius shaking his head in disapproval. He held Sirius’ forearm to sit up, and he wrapped his aching arms around him.

"Don't do this," Sirius whispered in his hair.

"Then why do you make me do this?" Remus pulled away to face the other in the eyes. "Why do you throw yourself into hell as if you are searching death and wanting it to hit you!?

He was suddenly speaking so loudly and Sirius was looking down at their hands. Remus had wanted to say those words to put some sense into Sirius, but few hours after the dueling, he himself had disapparated to the Shrieking Shack when the wolf inside him had started to signal his arrival. In the meantime of his transformation, he hadn’t forgotten the dueling, the cruciatus curse hitting the love of his life, and most importantly, the urge to see him in one piece before him.

"As if you completely forget that I am here too! At your side. You don't even acknowledge the fact how much your actions would hurt me! Your pain is my pain, Sirius Black!" He poked him harshly on his chest. "You don't let only yourself be dead, but you also kill me! You don't fucking realize how much I love you! You fucking dumb tosser! I can't watch you die! I can't let you get away from me! I can't live without you! Why don't you understand!?

Remus' chest was heaving raggedly. He had forgotten about his wounds, and now he was just staring at Sirius' glistening eyes. They were leaking tears so silently. He looked so small and vulnerable. Remus held his face in his hands and pulled his forehead to his lips to press a chaste kiss there.

"I am sorry." Sirius' raspy voice sent a shiver down to Remus' body.

"I want to get out of it. But I don't think I can without you. I want to protect you like you have your whole life. Let me protect you, please."

"I'd die for you-"

"I don't want you to die for me!" Remus grabbed Sirius' wrists and tugged him close at his eye level, "I want you to live for me!"

"I'm responsible for this, Moony." His voice was weak and muffled because he had slipped his head in the crook of Remus' neck.

"What are you talking about?"

He met Remus' eyes. "I know...I can't say if I disagree with you because I don't. But then when I look at you, James, Lily, and Peter, I feel like I owe you all. My own blood is out there killing innocent people..."

Suddenly, everything was making sense to Remus; the hard glare of Sirius while he is dueling with those masked death eaters, the concentration that would be keen to linger when he disarms them, aiming charms and spell on those masks which could reveal their identity and Sirius would either sigh in relief if Regulus Black isn't behind that mask.

"I feel like I am responsible for every life because my blood is aiming to kill the people I so dearly love, Remus. I can't give up on you so easily. I don't care about myself!

“You can't see me dying, can you? I saw you on the verge of death every month since for years and I still do, but I cannot fight that miserable fate. I actually thought when I was twelve that I could find a cure for your lycanthropy. I actually believed that one day I will be the one to take the pain away from you. I was so naïve. Now these people, who are also my unfortunate family, are trying to kill you. I can’t stand that.

“So you asked me who am I fighting for? I am fighting for you."

Remus opened his mouth to speak but the words died in his mouth. Sirius had left him utterly speechless.

"You don't care about yourself," He spoke after a lingering silence, "but I care about you so you have to care about that."

Remus knew that his words sounded very stupid but Sirius chuckled and shoved him in his embrace.

"I love you, Remus John Lupin. I love you more than anything. And I promise that I will be careful for you, just for you because I don’t want to hurt you in anyway."

“You better not,” Remus leaned close and pressed his forehead against Sirius’. “Otherwise, I won’t share my jumpers with you.”

“A little less tyranny, Moony, I’m fragile!”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar angst #wolfstar happy ending #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #first wizarding war rp #dynasty mia

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Note

What are the councils reaction to medical trauma time travel au anakin. Bcs like holy shit. The prophecy kid is fine one moment and then there's silence for three months, and then turns out the prophecy kid lived through a future where the sith won and he got tortured for two decades. Sure, vader completed the prophecy by killing sidious and then dying, but at what cost? Also the sith lord is the goddamn chancellor.

In the wise words of this new chapter from Mace’s POV: Read on AO3!

Mace’s day had gone from bad to worse with an hour of Kenobi-Skywalker-Tano being in vicinity. The trio truly managed to always bring chaos and destruction with them, no matter how polite Obi-Wan smiled or Skywalker managed to distract from it by pointing towards the bigger evil. They had been granted shore leave – and wasn’t it bitter to think of such when they were not supposed to be warriors? – for a week to sort out whatever terrifying discovery they had made, but Mace was beginning to think that it would take longer than that.

Skywalker’s breakdown this morning had been painful. Mace was especially sensitive to emotions running rampant. It was one of the reasons why standing next to the supernova that was Skywalker could be distracting at times. He still had a headache and didn’t want to know what the aftermath would have looked like if Obi-Wan hadn’t been there, pulling risky mind healing techniques he had not been educated in, to keep Skywalker’s shock from putting half the temple to their knees.

It had certainly left its marks on Obi-Wan. While Skywalker was sleeping soundly in the presence of his Padawan, his clone medic and Vokara, Obi-Wan stood in front of the Council, exhaustion running deep.

“Obi-Wan,” Mace started, foregoing all formalities. “What happened to Skywalker? Your reports stated he wasn’t fit for actually standing on the battlefield and providing any kind of back up that isn’t handing out orders, but not this.”

Obi-Wan was struggling to keep his expression neutral, but in the end, his tiredness won out as he sank back into his chair. “I am aware. We miscalculated and didn’t expect him to have such an adverse reaction to being back.”

“You are not making a lot of sense,” Plo Koon spoke up.

“I know, I apologize. We were not planning to start our briefing by talking about Anakin’s condition. He didn’t want to mention it at all, but his medic, Kix, persuaded him. It was not supposed to overshadow other details and I don’t actually know all the details as it falls under doctor-patient-confidentiality.”

Obi-Wan paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think Anakin wants me to know anything beyond what I need to keep him in check.”

He sounded as if he were quoting, taking words Skywalker had bestowed upon him.

Mace could feel coldness rest upon his bones, fear attempt to take a hold of him. Whatever discovery they had made, it must be gruesome that it could break Skywalker so and still have him consider his own tattered mind an afterthought to be dealt with at a later date. He couldn’t even imagine anything that would require keeping Skywalker in-check. He was reckless at times, brash, and his control could be better, but he was an excellent Jedi. Anakin wanted to protect people and his trust, while hard-earned, was easily given.

So what had caused a Knight of his caliber to be in such pain?

“Obi-Wan, what can you tell us?” Shaak Ti asked, her tone reminiscent more of a Master’s talking to their worried Padawan.

“We know the identity of the Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan’s words cut through the air like a sharp blade. For a moment Mace thought he had misheard him, that they couldn’t have just stumbled upon such critical information.

“Sure you are?” Yoda asked, the kind of seriousness you gained only after centuries lingering in his voice.

In moments like these, it was easy to see the strength that upheld the grandmaster of the Order, the fierce protectiveness that guarded them even in times like these and grieved deeply for every life lost when they couldn’t afford to stop on the battlefield.

Obi-Wan let out a bitter laugh, the trembling of his shoulders much closer to the body language of a grieving man on the verge of tears.

“Anakin remembers close to twenty years of torture under Darth Sidious and all his claims make sense. It’s all so clear to me now, we were so blind to all his schemes, waking into a trap.”

“Twenty-years?”

“A vision,” Obi-Wan elaborated, then hesitantly. “Or something similar enough to it. He seems to think of it as time travel.”

“Impossible.”

“That’s what I thought as well, but do you know what else could explain it? He just collapsed in the aftermath of a clean-up and when he woke, he didn’t feel like Anakin anymore. Not the way I knew him to, there was just so much suffering.”

What Mace would remember, even years down the line, was the haunted look on Obi-Wan’s face. For a man who had lost his Master to the first Sith in centuries, slew it and then continued on raising a Padawan and leading a war to show such open horror was downright frightening.

“We need to talk to him right now,” Oppo Rancisis voiced what they all thought. If Skywalker had such critical information, they needed it. They had to end this war as quickly as possible and yet-

“No,” Mace said. All eyes turned to him. None of them were displeased by it, most looked thankful. The war had made it so that they needed to hold back as to avoid giving the Senate, or the Chancellor as it were, even more reason to put the Jedi under direct control. They had to compromise their values, raise an entire generation during wartime all while fighting endless battles without being able to protest against it. Here, in their home at least, they could still execute some measure of control. “Skywalker is hurting and we have not yet fallen so far that we unconditionally sacrifice the wellbeing of our own. Obi-Wan, how much has Skywalker revealed to you?”

From the way Obi-Wan sighed in frustration, Mace suspected that it wasn’t much.

“Only a fraction of what he knows I suspect. He told me of a few critical battles and Separatist strongholds. Mostly, his thoughts have been occupied attempting to figure how quickly he can kill Sidious without the Republic descending into chaos as a result.”

For the months Skywalker had been at least partially out of commission, though Mace wondered how he had been planning any battles at all given this morning’s episode, the 501st and 212th, when not demanded elsewhere, had chosen their destinations rather liberally. Mace had suspected that they had an informant, a man on the inside, as more and more of their campaigns had been successful. The possibility of Skywalker having had a vision of such a magnitude was still unbelievable, but it was entering the realm of possible.

“Why would it descend into chaos?” Shaak asked.

“Because Darth Sidious currently holds all the power,” Obi-Wan spat out, control receding completely and the fiery anger he had been known for as an Initiate showing itself. “He’s the Chancellor. Sheev Palpatine is the Sith Lord and if we don’t take him out soon, he will burn the Republic to the ground to build his Empire.”

And the world cracked, revealing shatterpoints of stunning clarity.

#star wars #mace windu #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #medical trauma time travel au #ask #it's not even evening and obi wan already had the worst day #mace too #poor man #anon #fanfic

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myficdump · 4 years

Text

October 12: Broken Heart

This is a continuation of day 11. The planet Luke is on is something I made up. Asks/comments are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading! <3

_________________________________________

‘Please father, you’re my only hope.’

Vader had felt nothing but sheer panic for the last two days. He didn’t know what was happening to Luke and if he was going to die soon. It felt like it. His son sent waves of terror and panic down their bond which in turn caused him to feel the same emotion. After Luke pleaded and begged for his help, he demanded to know what was going on.

‘Where are you??? What is happening???’

‘I’ve been captured by slavers,’ his son sent. ‘I think I’m on a planet called Enoh.’

Fear filled Vader. His son had been captured by slavers. Horrid, despicable, slavers. Anger quickly replaced his fear and anything not bolted down in the empty meeting room began to shake. He would not allow his son to be stolen and used by those animals. Not ever. He was free and so was his son.

‘Please hurry father,’ Luke begged. ‘They planted a chip into my leg. I can’t run or fight against them. I don’t want to be sold.’

Vader’s heart broke. His son was born free! Luke wasn’t ever supposed to be a slave.

He stood from his seat and tried his best to send soothing feelings to his son. Not a single one of those animals was going to be left alive once he got his hands on them.

‘I’m coming, my son.’

* * * * *

Luke had nearly cried in relief when he heard those words. His father was going to save him. Soon he would be free of this nightmare and far away from this place.

Every minute seemed to be worse than the first. Once his guard had reached the vile looking building, Luke stumbled at the door and fell. The man didn’t bother to stop. He just continued to walk and dragged Luke deep into the place, choking him and nearly cutting his airflow off.

He was thrown into a dimly lit room, the only light source being what poured in from small windows. His fellow occupants broke his heart. They were children. If he had to guess, the youngest was around 5. The poor dears were terrified. And yet they tried to calm him down and give him advice.

“Don’t make much noise,” the oldest, who had to be around 11, whispered. “They get mad.”

Luke nodded and carefully pushed himself up. His arm movement was limited but he grabbed the youngest and wrapped his robes around him. The poor kid was shaking.

“We’re going to get out of here,” he shakily whispered. “My… My friend is on his way. He will free us.”

The kids didn’t look hopeful. It made his heart sink further. Just how long had these children been here? It made his headache worse as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

No one talked after that. The children were too afraid to. They curled up to him one by one, soaking up his warmth until all four of them were pressed up against him.

Luke didn’t know what to do. Nothing he could say would help anything. So he focussed on his bond with his father and the hope his father was sending him.

*****

Getting to Enoh had taken far longer than Vader had liked. Even with his star destroyer, one of the faster ships in the fleet, it had taken two days to arrive. The only good thing to come out of it was his obsessive planning. Everything was perfect. He had the head of communications on his ship send out a message to the vile slavers on Enoh informing them of his interests in… purchasing… a few slaves.

They would never see it coming. As soon as Vader had his hands on Luke, he was going to disable the chip and slaughter those animals. One by one, he was going to relish in striking each and everyone of them down. It’s what they deserved. They would never again touch his son.

And if his master found out, which he most likely will, he would reassure Palpatine that they were a threat to the Empire and he tore them down. It wasn’t a lie. This group had been attacking imperials and robbing them blind. Along with kidnapping citizens of the Empire. It would satisfy Palpatine for it would bring public morale up and cause them to adore him for fixing the problem.

He would never suspect that Vader was doing this for his son. Turning his son in to his master was something that caused bile to rise in his throat. Luke would never serve under his master.

“Lord Vader! We have permission to land on the planet.”

Vader stood up from his desk and made his way to his door. Standing behind it was Admiral Piett.

“Good. Prepare my shuttle and inform the doctor to have his equipment ready.”

“Yes sir!” Admiral Piett hurried away and Vader watched for a moment before heading down to the dock.

‘I’m here son.’

An hour later, Vader was finally where he needed to be. He stood in the dining room, staring at his son. The condition Luke was in enraged him. He was collared and bruised and cuts littered his body. Although he knew Luke was not dying, he looked like he was on the verge death.

“He’s a pretty one, ain’t he?” The head slaver carrased Luke’s cheek. “Not only that, but he’s a Jedi too. He’ll be a hefty price.”

“I am well aware.” Vader clenched his fists. He was so close. He just needed to get his hands on his son and then he could deactivate the chip with the Force. His son was going to be safe. “Money is not an issue. It has already been wired to you.”

The slaver chuckled and shoved Luke toward Vader. “Business with you has been a pleasure, Lord Vader. I hope to do so with you again.”

Vader ignored him, kneeling down to pretend he was inspecting Luke’s leg. “And the chip? Is it a fake?” He reached out with the Force and quickly deactivated it. Now he could wreck these animals and Luke would be safe. He rose back to his feet.

“Oh yes, it’s-”

Vader didn’t allow him to finish his sentence. He raised a hand and clenched his fist, choking the man. Luke was gathered into his chest with his other arm and as much as he could manage, he sent waves of comfort to his son.

‘You are safe now, young one. They will never again harm you.’

Something snapped inside his son, causing Luke to sob into his chest.

Panic flashed through his eyes. “I gave you what you wanted!” he gasped. “I gave you a Jedi!”

“My son is not a slave,” Vader growled, his vocoder booming.

The slaver’s face paled as he realized his mistake. He was dead before he could say anything else.

Vader dropped his body, and turned his attention back towards his son. “I need you to wait in my shuttle. Medical attention is on board and soon you will be safe.”

“The children,” Luke gasped. “You have to help them! They-They were with me.”

“I will. You have my word.”

Luke calmed a bit and slumped into his hold. “Thank you father,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming to rescue me.”

Vader said nothing. He rubbed Luke’s back for a moment before gently pulling him away. He used the Force to snap Luke’s collar and chains, freeing him. The bruising was much worse than he had believed. Seeing it caused another wave of anger to hit him and picked Luke up to carry him back to his shuttle.

Soon, his lightsaber ignited his hands, he struck down every animal in the building. They would never again breathe another breath. They would never again harm a hair on his son’s head.

Nothing remained of them and Luke was reunited with the children along with others who had been enslaved. Seeing them gave Luke hope that maybe there still was good in his father. He wasn’t the same monster Luke had faced on Bespin. Perhaps Anakin was still alive inside his father. It filled him with relief and determination.

Whatever happened next, Luke was sure that his father would return to the Light. He would do anything to assure it.

#tw slavery #tw star wars slavery #tw murder #star wars #ten trails whump challenge #whumptober #whumptober 2020 #luke skywalker #darth vader #parent vader #parent darth vader #luke skywalker angst #star wars angst #dad vader #dadvader #tw yandere #yandere darth vader

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

💝My Obsession // Yandere! Leona Kingscholar x Reader// 💝

Someone, please explain to me how all my Leona fics end up being 2,500+ words?? Also props to whoever figures out which anime got inspired by to write the ending. Any way enjoy also thanks so much to @malleusthorns their game motivated me to write this.

Warning: Gore...I guess.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

There was a throbbing that wouldn't seem to go away, reverberating through the young girl's skull. Bouncing from wall to wall of her cranium just like a bouncy ball. The pain caused her to close her eyes tighter, trying to lull herself back into the numb comatose that had started to crack under the weight of alertness. Tiny fracture sprinkled around the darkness, noting to fully break her dormant mind. That was until something icy and wet splashed over her face, jolting her from her slumber.

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open, tears forming at the sides ready to slip out. She was becoming cognizant of the hammering in her head. A shiver ran up her spin before creeping over her skin, laying cutis anserina in its wake. As her sense began to awaken one by one, (y/n) started to feel a tug on her shoulder. The poor girl tried pulling her humerus forward, only for her skin to scrape against a smooth, freezing surface. Something was bounding her arms...and her legs she noted as she tried to kick her feet.

Nervously her bloodshot eyes scanned the room, it was dark and chilly. Something was causing every hair on her body to stand up on high alert, her guts where entwining amongst themselves screaming that something just wasn't right. Endless minutes flew by before a rollicking noise jarred silent darkness. A tapping soon followed, pittering across the floor. One second she could practically feel their presence less than a millimeter away from her. The next all she had was their even,never-changing noise where, she could only assume, was in front of her.

'Please talk' a timid voice croaked inside her head. 'Please say something' the nervous noise was poking at her tolerance. 'Just talk!' she couldn't tell if she'd actually screamed out the words or only hollered them inside her head. Either way, it did not matter, the footsteps only continued on their way, ignoring her presence altogether. The steps were getting further and further...the footfalls ceased and were instead replaced by a ripping noise that echoed through the emptiness.

In moments the obscurity was pierced by thin feeble rays of silver light. Despite the lights infirm nature it's brightness (y/n) still shut her eyes in an attempt to stop the stinging that had sparked from the back of her eyeballs. Endless minutes passed before a heavy sigh filled the air accompanied by the mirthless voice of the mysterious kidnapper. "Life's not fair is it?"

That question, that signature rhetorical question that had all but engraved its self in the depths of (y/n)'s memory. There was only one person, one person in the entirety of the world that could state such an overlooked fact as if it was the foundation that life was built on, one person...

"Leona..." Her whisper was as light as the air itself, the name of her beloved childhood friend mingled with the air before it was carried off into oblivion. Craning her head to the right, (Y/n)'s eyes caught the ever so familiar frame of the Savanclaw dorm leader. His green eyes glowed in the eerie rays. His posture wasn't as lax like it always was. There was an eagerness to him, an unsteadiness engulfing him. His spin was stark straight, his gloved fingers dug into his hips, scrunching the fabric of his shirt. "Surprised kitten?" his voice rumbled from his chest, echoing through the room. "You really shouldn't be, you've had this coming for some time."

(y/n)'s brows knitted together, whatever had been spilled on her earlier was starting to dry over her face. Sticking to her visage like a second skin. "L-Leona..." her voice was brittle, wither away like a dying rose. "W-what are...are you talking about?" dread was wrapping it's decaying thin arms around her, hover above the doomed darling watching the spectacle. "Wh..why am I here?" questions where bubbling inside the girl, floating out of her mouth and lingering in the stale air. It did little to phase Leona, he just kept starring and starring. Almost like a predator hunting its prey.

Slowly the lion boy stalked forward, his tail swished from side to side, almost like he was nervous about something...When he was close enough he leaned over. With one hand he tilted the metal chair backward. With the motion (y/n)'s head tipped backward. Their faces were close, far too close, (y/n) could feel every breath that Leona took. There was malice and sadness hidden behind his emerald orbs. His face was twisted into a snarl, sharp teeth on full display. "Why do you always have to be so dame clueless?"

(y/n)'s nerves were starting to snap. If this was a sick joke, then it had lost its humor the moment she woke up. "Stop it!" her voice creaked like old floorboards. Her vocal cords strained almost on the verge of bleeding as she tried to morphed her tone into an intimidating one. "This..this isn't funny Leona!!" The older boy rolled his eyes. He tipped the chain back to its initial position. Before waling behind her and undoing the restraints. Just as (y/n) came to move her arms, Leona forcefully pushed the chair into the ground. (Y/n)'s face slammed against the dirty floor, bouncing upwards from the sheer force before falling down numbly once more.

Leon watched as the young girl tried to get up, balancing herself on her hands and knees. as she stretched her neck to look up at him, he noted that blood was pooling under a few areas on her face and left eye. Creating supple red bruises. Though he would never say it out loud, she looked pretty like this, she had always looked her best when she was bleeding of hurt in some manner, it caused a sort of glow to orbit around her. But her beauty did little to make up for her insolence. There was a storm brewing inside him of him the anger, danger, and a newly awoken darkness where entwining birthing the personification of his obsession.

"By the king of beasts," he grumbled as his fingers shot up to his temple, as they always did when the iteration of the situation was planting another neuralgia in his head "I want you...no, you are mine, you have always been mine! You're just so stupidly dense that you never once realized it!"

(Y/n)'s eyes widen in disbelief, her heart was pounding against her rib cage practically breaking her ribs with each beat. Nervously she brought the back of her hand to her face, trying to distract herself. As she went to wipe the substance off her face. The substance cracked and peeled off the second her hand rubbed against it. As it fell it revealed a sticky layer underneath. Retracting her arm quickly (y/n) tried to see what it was that she had just touched...Another wave of shock rolled over her...

"B-blood?" Frantically her eyes ran up to Leona's begging for answers. The dark-skinned boy shrugged. "I didn't like your history project partner". (y/n) gulped, "How long?" her question silently floated between them, acting as a shield brightened by the dimly light. Leona only raised an eyebrow, he opened his mouth an inch but closed it once he heard the choked sobs and enraged shouts coming from his "lover". "How long?"... there was no reply. "How long have you felt this way!" It was a stupid question. (y/n) knew, if anything she had known for far too long, but she had been so happy in her hubris. So content with playing "sibling" with her childhood friend, she knew how he had felt for far too long. But everything had been so sweet, so pleasant, almost like a fairy tale. It was easier to look for a prince charming in other men and expect her "big brother" to be there and catch her once that prince inevitably broke her heart.

A sharp pain in her scalp caused the girl to look up. Leona was kneeling in front of her, pulling her hair up to look her directly in the eyes.

"Stop being so selfish and just fuking be mine already! it's not that fucking hard!" His yells held a desperate undertone, the big strong king of Savanclaw was reduced to this? A lovesick boy? Angrily (y/n) took in a deep unsteady breath before bellowing: "I'm the selfish one? You kidnapped me and tied me to a chair! You broke that beautiful illusion we had! To want to throw away our friendship for what? So we can break each other's hearts?!"

Leona remained dumbfound, his grip on her hair strengthened. "Actually I ordered Ruggie to kidnap you so that on him" he tried to keep a haughty prideful tone, but her words had left a growing bruise on his ego.

"Doesn't matter! if anything that just further proves my point! You are the selfish one! Just fess up, you're the one at fault here!"

Leona's body had begun vibrating with rage. Lifting his free hand he struck (y/n)! His claws snipped at her flesh, tearing apart skin tissue by skin tissue as if it was nothing more then silk fabric. Slashing at the muscles until there was a large enough opening for the blood to flow past. Trickling down her cheek the mood pushed away the rotten plasma caking her face, splattering on her clothes, leaving large messy circular like stains.

"No no! This! This whole fucked up mess we're in is all your fault! It's always been your fault!" Leona roared. His pupils had started to dilate, tears were forming in his eyes. Swiftly the older boy lifted his fist only to smash it onto (y/n)'s, again and again, and again...

Laughter, a sicking, and high pitch bordering on maniacal. Leona stopped his assault, his brows shot upwards, as his mouth twisted in a snarl, creases started forming on the bridge of his nose. How dare she laugh at him! How dare she mock him!

(Y/n) opened her eyes, they were harboring similar insanity as her kidnapper. Her mouth opened permitting her to cough up some blood that had pooled inside. "Why can't you just accept responsibility? You were always like this! Even when we were kids! Nothing was ever your fault because you were such a tragic little prince weren't you! If you really love me then own it! Don't blame me for your obsession! It wasn't my fault! I thought you...I thought you were happy with what we had!" Leona slowly pulled away. His green gaze never once leaving (y/n)'s damaged face. His fingers unlocked from her hair, which causes the young girl to immediately start rubbing the top of her head.

"I don't really care how you see this situation. My fault -which it isn't- Your fault -which it is- the point is...you're mine now and that's how it's going to be..." Leona's hand slithered over to (y/n)'s wrist, gripping it and pulling her into his arms. (y/n) buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his nostalgic scent, as he calmly petted her head as if she was a pet cat.

Time had frozen, granting the two so-called lovers a break of sorts. For the endless moment. It wasn't until Leona had gotten bored of their little hug, that the two moved. Leona's hands dug into her shoulder, he leaned his head down just as (y/n) tilted her head up. Lips brushing against each other prepping for a kiss.

The quietness was disrupted by a loud banging noise from behind them followed by an airy sound that got louder and louder. Until it struck right past Leona. Cutting the fabric of his jeans and slicing through his flesh. The lion let out a hiss, jumping to his feet and pulling (y/n) up with him. He pushed her to his chest as he maneuvered his body into an attacking pose.

"Let go of (y/n)! You horrible beast!" "Ecoute a lui, roi des lions" "Don't touch (y/n) Onee-chan!"

Those voices, (y/n)'s mind rushed back to the situation. She had seemingly forgotten just what Leona had done to her. The kidnapping, the humiliation, the beating...somehow it had all ran away from her memory the moment her beloved Leona had embraced her.

Behind the "couple" Rook shot arrow after arrow, aiming for the lion's limbs. One lucky arrow managed to strike Leona's left bicep. The lion boy let out a pained roar, his arm falling limp to his side as blood gushed downwards. "Rook, Ortho now!" Vil's voice boomed through the chamber. Rook nodded as Ortho replied with a "sure thing". The two raced forward, Rook switching his bow for a pocket knife and Ortho punching Leona with his metal fist. Leona tried to fight back but with his wound and the gang up he mostly ended up getting punched.

Sometime before the attack had fully commenced, Leona had shoved (y/n) to the side. Vil ran up to (y/n) grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. Right before he left the "king" of Pomefiore snapped his fingers, causing both Ortho and Rook to leave a bruised and broken Leona. "How did you find me?" (Y/n) asked as she was directed through the maze of hallways and staircases. Vil turned his head to stare at her for a split second before running forward. The hallways were just as dark as the room she had been kept in, the numerous windows were covered by thick black curtains preventing the moon from sharing its light. However, thanks to Ortho's built-in flashlights the gang had a clear, illuminated view of a few feet in front of them. "Idia saw Ruggie knock you out and drag you to the catacombs" Vil explained, his grip on her wrist tightened. As the group ran to the Ignhyde dorm, (y/n) couldn't stop herself from peering over her shoulder. Expecting..no, hoping that her childhood friend would pounce out of the darkness at any moment and chase after them. It was a longing to see the boy she had known her whole life chase after her, the only difference was that this time if he did catch her, she would not object to his advances. But Leona never came...

and she was beginning to think he never would.

Days have a tendency to blend when together there is nothing left to look forward to. (y/n) couldn't remember how long it had been since that night in the NRC catacombs, how long it had been since that "confession"? Time had turned into a paradox, having simultaneously stooped and sped up. Idia and Ortho had taken the role of her caretaker. Bringing her food and checking up on her from time to time. Idia had even broken his shut-in nature just for her, every once in awhile he'd bring over some games to play. Ortho would pop in every day, trying his hardest to entertain the stoic girl. But no matter how hard either Shroud twin tried (y/n) would never smile, her face would never forme any real expression. She only ever spoke when necessary, conversations with her mostly consisted of nobs and grunts. Some days after school Vil or Rook would stop by the Ignihyde dorm with treats. Hoping to return (y/n) to her old, innocent self.

Deep down (y/n) was grateful for the efforts the boys put in. But it felt so meaningless go hollow. What was the point of it all? (y/n) could feel the threads of her sanity slowly ripping. Her days and nights -granted she'd lost track of which was when- where filled with constant pondering over guilty thoughts. Every single one of her waking moments was dedicated to envisioning that damned day, dreaming of just how it could have turned out. Why didn't she just kiss him? Why didn't she jump into his arms and scream that she was his? That she would always be his? That it didn't matter how they loved each other so long as the love was there.

Earlier that morning Vil had stopped by to tell (y/n) that Leona had come back from the semester break. It had seemed like a warning after all Vil was only trying to look out for her. The thought that Leona was back had sent her heart aflutter. She may have not shown it but her nerves where a wreck, she was both excited and nervous. A nagging voice in the back of her mind kept screaming that he wouldn't care about her that she had lost her chance the night she let herself be rescued by Vil, Rook, and Ortho. But a small piece of her still begged that Leona would come for her, that he still loved her.

Sleep was something that came in waves, sometimes she would sleep for days on end, and other times she would spend weeks in an insomniac daze. Tonight was one of the later nights. (y/n)'s eyes refused to close, her brain resisted the urge to think about anything other than Leona. She spent so many nights with his face in her head, mulling over every little detail. As the hours ticked by, (y/n)'s eyes started to grow heavier and heavier. The final scene the moment he said he loved her or at least tried to was still so vibrant in her semi asleep head. She could still hear his voice, his shouts and cries....his voice why was it so clear?--

"You know~ in another life, we could have gotten married, you could have been my queen and I, your king. We could have been happy like all those other happy idiots of the world."

(Y/n) bolted upright, her hands suffocating her blanket. Her window had been reduced to dirt. Leaning against the frame of where the windowpane had been was no other than the man that had plunged her thought for far too long. Standing on her bed and walking over to him, (y/n) couldn't help the larger than life smile that spread over her face or the tears of joy that just wouldn't seem to stop.

She came to a stop in front of him. Just like that night, the moon's rays of silver light cast a surreal glow over Leona's frame. He looked almost like an angel sent to free her from her suffering. "What..what makes you think we...we could ever be normal?" A tiny laugh escaped her mouth as she wiped the tears from her face. All Leona did was smirk, he extended his arm, his open palm beckoning her to take it. Eagerly (y/n) grabbed a hold of his arm, her grip was tight, too scared to let go always this all be some illusion fabricated by her tortured mind.

"Oi shut up already idiot...just stay quiet" He pulled her up, back into his arms, right where she belonged. His embrace was nothing short of bone-crushing. But (y/n) didn't mind, the pain proved just how real how was. With a final tug, Leona pulled her out of the window. As they began to fall to the ground, Leona smiled, a genuine smile that for once harbored no ill intent nor ulterior motive and said:

"You will always be my obsession (y/n) just as I have become yours..."

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spinningwebsandtales · 4 years

Text

Imagine Being A Medic For Company 8 & Having To Take Out An Infernal To Protect Obi.

(A/N:) Hello sweeties! I’m back! I’ve taken my rest like I was supposed to do I haven’t drawn or wrote in the past three weeks and wore my brace like the doctor told me to. While my inflammation has gone down tremendously in both my hand and wrist I’m still a little weak so I have to be careful and take it easy. Though I am going to start back writing and doing the things I love. Thank you all for the patience and be on the lookout I have several ideas I can’t wait to share with y’all! Until next time happy reading!

~Countess

Akitaru Obi X FemReader

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, violence, mentions of blood.

As a medic you had taken an oath to heal, protect, administer, and doctor every ailment. No part of you wanted to take a life, you wanted to give life but all that changed within an instant when your instincts made you decide whether to protect your friend or watch him die. Your day started out normally. Obi’s paperwork had piled up once again so you helped your Captain sort, write, and file reports while sipping at the coffee he so lovingly brought you every morning. Next was patching up the Eighth’s rookies after a slightly severe training session with Lieutenant Hinawa with a cheerful ‘thank you’ the boys went on their way. You finally had time to rearrange your medicines and various supplies when the call came out of an Infernal wreaking havoc in Company 8’s division. You grabbed your bag and suited up. Despite several arguments, Obi had talked you into carrying a weapon. He said it was just for protection and he couldn’t go into battle with a light heart knowing that you would be unarmed. So for your Captain’s sake you took the short sword, keeping it in it’s sheath on your belt. Shinra offered you a helping hand into the Matchbox. Once everyone was inside, the Matchbox took off speeding to the scene. Your calm morning ended there as soon as the vehicle left the garage.

People screamed, buildings burned, and your team was scattered. This particular Infernal seemed more intelligent than the others and Captain Obi’s plan fell through immediately. Maki was unconscious, Arthur was barely holding his ground, Shinra had been slung away from the fight and had yet to return, Hinawa was trying to get into a sniper position, Iris was trying her best not to get in the way or get injured, and Obi was trying to stand as his leg kept giving out. His mask had been cracked severely and half of it was missing leaving his pained expression clear to see. Your heart pounded and tears stung your eyes. Obi was yelling at you but you couldn’t hear what he was saying your ears ringing from the explosions of battle. The Infernal was drawing nearer towards you, it’s lumbering gate much like a zombie but unlike the undead creature of various stories this one was agile and swift. Obi roared out clanging his tools against the ground trying to get the creature’s attention from you. It worked as the blazing monster took off towards him, seeing your Captain struggling to rise, instinct and love for the man who was risking his life for you took hold. Dropping your bag of medical supplies and wiping the ashes from your eyes you shot forward unsheathing the blade you hadn’t even wanted and plunged the sharp steel through the heart of the Infernal. It’s screech was unholy as it jerked, tearing at the blade jutting from it’s smoldering chest. Iris’s prayer could be heard across the battlefield as she tried to hurry through it before the once human being stilled in death. As soon as she finished it twitched once and disintegrated into ashes and sputtering dying flames. Your sword clattered to the ground streaks of black marring the once pristine blade. You fell to the ground before your Captain wailing in anguish of what you had done. Obi didn’t hesitate taking your sobbing form into his strong but tired arms. You clung to him happy that you had saved him but horrified that you had just taken a life.

Back at Cathedral 8 you had stayed silent through the whole trip back while going through all the things the Fire Force had trained you for. They had taught all their soldiers how to kill Infernals and survive through battles but the one thing that they had never touched on was how to deal with aftermath. You stumbled from the Matchbox shedding the outer protection part of your uniform the medical badge that you had once proudly worn on the arm stained with soot. You felt like a zombie and you mumbled that you were going to shower. Shinra stepped forward to say something but Hinawa’s unmoving arm stopped the boy from advancing any further. This was something you needed to deal with alone at the moment. Despite being covered in sweat and grime Maki and Iris decided to leave you the privacy you needed. The hot water pounding from the shower head steamed up the shower room leaving you in a fog. Your mind was busy and the anguish you felt couldn’t be overpowered. Even the scrub brush that hung from the faucet couldn’t wash away the feel of blood and death from your skin. You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin was blood red and on the verge of bleeding. You collapsed to the shower floor tears streaming down your face only to be washed away by the scalding water and washed down the drain. Obi had given you almost half an hour alone before he headed towards the showers. He could hear your crying from the hallway leading him to knock.

“I’m sorry but I’m coming in,” he said opening the door. He didn’t see you standing there so he eased his way to the wall that separated the showers and sat down leaning his back against the warm wall. You sniffed trying to control your emotions.

“That was a brave thing you did,” Obi started. “I wouldn’t be here talking with you if it wasn’t for you. You saved me back there.”

“I don’t feel heroic,” you replied voice cracking.

“I know it’s a hard pill to swallow and this doesn’t help but extinguishing Infernals doesn’t get any easier.”

“I can see why. I’m a medic Akitaru. I’m supposed to heal people not kill them.”

Obi reached his hand around the wall looking for your hand. You scooted closer to him taking his warm calloused hand in your smooth wet one.

“Those people die as soon as the flames take them,” Obi continued giving your shaking hand a squeeze. “What we do, yes it’s taking a person’s life, but if you really look at it it’s a mercy for them. I’m not telling you to get used to it and I’m not about to let you do more than what we assigned you here for I’m just trying to get around to saying thank you. You saved my life and patched me up to boot after everything.” He chuckled remembering how Hinawa kept slinging you onto the injured Captain while you tried patching his sprained ankle. Despite the sadness you felt it didn’t keep the blush from your cheeks.

“It’s my job to take care of my teammates,” you finally smiled his words reaching through the shadows that swallowed your mind pulling you free into the sunlight.

“And it’s our job to take care of you,” Obi agreed. “Now finish up and get changed there’s some concerned teammates that need to see that their medic is okay.” Obi rose from the floor careful not to look over the wall. You stood up as well the wall covering you as you hunkered down. Before Obi could escape you grabbed the collar of his black shirt and pulled him down placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you Obi. Now get out of here don’t you know it’s rude to watch a lady shower.”

The Captain stuttered face turning red before throwing a shaky salute, “Y-yes ma’am.” You laughed as he bolted out the door but you felt the burden had lifted. This day would follow you but you knew that no matter what you had a Captain that loved you and teammates that cared for you and that made everything okay.

#Akitaru Obi X Reader #Akitaru Obi / Reader #Fire Force #Akitaru Obi #Fire Force Imagine #Akitaru Obi Imagine #Company 8 #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Teen Tracys

Muse is on a roll today, it seems (and I even managed to get some uni work done!). From a conversation with @janetm74 that started over a discussion about punk!teen Virgil with a green mohawk and Eco-Warrior!teen Gordon and snowballed into, well, something a bit like this.

Random, has not been particularly polished, and I threw in a time skip rather than deal with the serious conversation. Might write that later.

For ages, we’ve got Scott at 21, John’s 19, Virgil’s 17, Gordon’s 13 and Alan’s 9. Three teenagers in the house; uh oh.

Scott loved his brothers. Really, he did. But sometimes, they were just too much. Big brother just didn’t hold the same weight as parent, no matter that he’d helped to raise all of them, and every so often his little brothers remembered that.

“Gordon, no.”

The thirteen-year-old, decked out in nothing but recycled greens, glared up at him with all the self-proclaimed righteousness a teenager could summon. It was a lot.

“Do you know how much pollution is still being pumped into the oceans?” he demanded, not at all cowed by the fact he barely reached Scott’s chest. “They finally stopped all the fossil fuel in the 2020s, and plastic was entirely phased out by 2030, and then the world gave itself a nice pat on the back as though that fixed everything!”

Scott had heard this tirade before. Many, many, times before.

“Yes, Gordon, I know. Preservation of the oceans is important and that’s why this family – and Tracy Industries – does its bit to make sure nothing goes in there that shouldn’t, and is why you take part in charity events to continue to spread awareness. I know.” He didn’t have a problem with any of that, either. No, what he had a problem with were the rallies.

Charity work? Fine. More than fine.

The rallies? Not for an unaccompanied thirteen-year-old boy, and Scott knew they often involved illegally sabotaging places that still produced pollution. No matter how well-meaning Gordon was, it was Scott’s duty as big brother and guardian not to let him get tangled up in that.

“Clearly you don’t know if you think that’s enough!” Gordon retorted, and Scott sighed.

“Gordon, I know more needs to be done, but it needs to be done legally, and not result in you getting thrown in a lockup, okay? You’ve got that charity dinner with Lady Penelope next weekend, remember?”

“I can do both!” Gordon protested. “Scott, I have to go! It’s important for the planet!”

“Well it’s important to me that you don’t end up-”

Bright green in his periphery killed the rest of the sentence as he turned his head to see his normally sensible, reliable brother looking anything but.

“Virgil, you are not going out looking like that.”

“I can go out looking however I want, Scott.” Seventeen years old and the teenage attitude Gordon was showing seemed to have infected his next oldest brother at last. Virgil had been such a quiet, low-effort teenager – even more so than John, whose rebellion had been entirely digital and Scott was quite frankly afraid of what he might have done – until now.

Now, the punk phase had hit, and apparently the colour of the day was green. Vibrant, radioactive touch-me-and-die green. In a mohawk.

Scott tried to be the supportive big brother, he really did, but there were lines and the all-leather ensemble complete with mohawk and numerous piercings were pushing it. Worst of all was the noise-maker he called a trike that he’d gone and bought last week despite being explicitly told not to. That had crossed the line. There had been much shouting. Virgil refused to return it, and spent more time in the garage tinkering with it than with his family now.

Gordon considered it an affront, and Scott wasn’t entirely certain it wasn’t going to be a target for the so-called rally if Gordon managed to join it.

“Virgil, please.”

“I want green hair!”

They’d caught Alan’s attention. Great.

“No, Alan. You are not dyeing your hair green.”

Realising both green-themed brothers – if for two very different reasons – were both trying to slip out while Alan played distraction, Scott backed up to the front door and blocked it with his body.

“Virgil did!”

“And if his hair dye ends up in your hair, his entire new ensemble is heading straight for the recycler,” Scott growled. Three little brothers, all at once. It was enough to give him a headache. Gordon shifted, a shift that meant trouble, and he remembered the current household feud. “Gordon, if Virgil’s hair dye ends up in Alan’s hair, no more charity events until you’re eighteen.”

“But Scott!”

He didn’t even care which of the three said it. It could have been all of them. Why couldn’t they go through teenage rebellion from the sanctity of their bedrooms, like John did?

“I wouldn’t say green’s your colour anyway, Allie.” As though summoned by Scott’s thoughts, the fourth little brother materialised. Finally, some sanity- “how about we try black, or a dark blue, to match space? Maybe Virgil can help make it a galaxy?”

“John!”

Betrayal. Betrayal of the highest order, but Scott refused to get dramatic about it because he had three drama queens in the house already and that would only encourage them. Even if the smirk John sent his way made him want to throw something. Or scream.

Or both.

With four brothers ganging up on him – two because they’d hit the rebellion phase, one because his brothers were, and one just because he could – Scott knew he wasn’t going to win this with his sanity intact.

“Alan, no, you are not dyeing your hair any colour. Gordon, you are not going to that rally. Virgil, you are not going out like that. John, if you’re not going to be helpful, scat.”

“But Scott!”

That was all four of them. In chorus. If half of them weren’t feuding he’d think the whole thing was choreographed. Looking at John, he still wasn’t convinced the ginger genius hadn’t managed to orchestrate it. He was still smirking.

Scott needed to pull out the big guns.

“If you four won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to Grandma.”

The woman was in the garden, taking a well-deserved nap away from five grandsons. Scott didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew when he was beaten. Two brothers, he could handle. Three, tough but doable. Four, when one was deliberately stirring the pot? Even Scott had limits.

Any hopes he might have had that the mere threat would be enough died when three defiant – and one amused, damn you, John – faces stared at him.

He pulled out his phone, gave them one more moment to change their minds of their own accord, before making the call.

“Scott?”

“Sorry to interrupt you, Grandma, but can you come back inside?”

“On my way. What have the trouble-makers done this time?”

Scott gave her a brief rundown, interspersed with varying levels of protest from each brother as it reached their turn. By the time he was done, the woman was inside the house, regarding all five of them.

Three faces were starting to quail. Alan in particular looked on the verge of tears, but no teenage rebellion was stopping Virgil being a Grandma’s boy and even Gordon had a healthy respect for her tongue. John continued to look far too smug, and Scott’s internal alarm bells were ringing.

Still, Grandma was here now. Grandma would sort his brothers out and Scott could get a blissful half hour – maybe even an hour, if he was lucky – without some sort of sibling drama.

“Well, I’m not seeing any problems here.”

What.

Grandma walked straight up to Virgil and started plucking at his jacket, deftly dodging the metallic spikes as she adjusted it on his shoulders. “When I was your age, it was all pink. Pink leather, pink hotpants.” She winked in Scott’s direction and the urge to scream bubbled up in his chest. “I dyed my hair to match.”

At least his brothers seemed to be as dumbstruck as him about that, even if Scott was watching his last bastion of support crumble before his eyes.

“Your Grandpa had the most amazing Harley,” she continued. “Ooh, what a beauty. Such a smooth ride. He really knew how to treat a girl, your Grandpa.”

Nope. Absolutely nope. Scott needed brain bleach, and an escape from the madhouse, preferably before he screamed.

With a hoarse yell that was only a yell, and not a scream at all, he yanked the front door open, all but ran through it, and slammed it so hard a shingle slid from the roof.

He stared at it for a moment before surging into a run, past the garage and that damn trike, over the front gate, and headed straight for… who cared, as long as it was away. Right then, the house could collapse or burn to the ground for all he really cared.

Scott tried to be tolerant, he tried to be fair to all of his brothers, but sometimes it was just too much to handle.

***

“Scott?”

He’d ended up sitting in a tree after running all through the woodland until his legs burned. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to stop his grandmother finding him when she wanted to.

“Are you ready to come home, dear?” she called up. He sighed and let his head thud against the trunk.

“Am I going to be ganged up on by my brothers over stupid things if I do?” he asked. “Because I think I’ve had enough of that.”

“Your brothers and I had a nice long chat, and we’ve put some new house rules in place,” she told him. “Gordon has agreed no more rallies and Alan no longer wants his hair dyed.”

“And Virgil and John?” he asked warily.

“Virgil has agreed not to provoke Gordon any more, but you two need to talk about policing each other’s clothes, young man.” Scott winced. “As for John, he knows he went too far, but just like with Virgil, you are going to have to talk to each other like the reasonable young men you are.” There was no reproach in her tone, but Scott felt scolded all the same.

He didn’t want to go home, but if Grandma was promising no more carnage… Scott could never bring himself to leave his brothers for too long. Reluctantly, he eased himself out of the tree, swinging from the last branch to the ground below.

“I know you don’t like what Virgil’s done to his hair,” Grandma said, looping her arm through his. “But remember it’s his hair, not yours.”

“It’s not that,” Scott admitted. “He can do what he wants with it; it’s that trike. He can’t wear a helmet with his hair all spiked up like that!”

“Then you should tell him that’s why you disapprove.” Grandma was, as always, full of logic. “None of you boys can read minds, you know. You have to talk to each other.”

“I know,” Scott sighed. “Sorry, Grandma, I messed up.”

“You’re just worried about them.” She squeezed his arm fondly. “They’ll appreciate it when they’re older.”

“Will they?”

“They’re not the first teenage boys I’ve raised,” she reminded him. “There’s nothing you and your brothers have done that your father and uncle Lee didn’t do already.”

“…Even the punk mohawk?”

“I still have the photos.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #grandma tracy #teen tracys #thunderfluff

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lilyharvord · 4 years

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The Chain (Part 9)

Thank you to everyone for being so patient with my update for this fic. I’m officially done with my first semester of graduate school and since I’m on break, I want to try and post as many chapters as possible to get as close to finishing this as possible. We’re time jumping after this by the way everyone. It’s about time we kicked it up a few notches and got to the meat and bones of this fic.

Tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore, @redqueenetwork, @tranquil-dusk (I’m trying to add you but for some reason it wont @... the same problem happens with @thatoddgirl777 and I have no idea how to fix it)

Find the rest of the fic here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8

Enjoy everyone (:

(/Mare/)

When I run from my lesson with Julian, it feels fake and I wonder if he even buys into it. I have far too much control over my ability now, and it is hard to fake going out of control. Still, the rain feels good on my face when I finally find a balcony. I couldn’t care less about the paint that is most likely being washed away. I tilt my head back and inhale, letting the rain drench my hair. Today is just a bad day, and it is only set to get worse.

The rain is warm as if washes over my face. I wish it were cold. I’ve felt too much lately. I want to be numb for a few minutes.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. A moment later, the air changes as another bolt of lightning prepares to races across the sky. The storm is right overhead. I miss the electricons more than anything as the pressure escalates around me.

We’d go storm chasing on a day like today to hunt down the elusive bolts of lightning so that we could harness them ourselves. Harnessing natural storms is like wrestling with my brothers when I was little. It’s pulling against an impossible force, but the power that roars through my veins when I manage to get what I want out of it is exhilarating.

Gripping the banister, I inhale the smell of ozone and open my eyes to watch the flash of white as it shoots across the sky. Change, lightning is change. Storms come and wash away the old to bring new, brighter things behind it. Tyton had taught me that. Ella taught me it could be elegant. Rafe taught me it was beauty. I taught them it could bend but never break.

A hand closes around my arm and I almost yelp at the freezing touch. Two Sentinels stand over me. They must have followed me out here and given me a careful berth until they were certain I wouldn’t electrocute them.

“My lady,” One of them growls, his grey eyes like dirty snow. Probably a Gillican judging by his touch. He’s twice my size, but nowhere near as powerful. I still hate the sight of them.

“Let go.” I insist as I tug my arm. But he grips me tighter and steel panic laces through my bones. They had found me before, but who knows why they have come looking for me now. Has Elara decided to make a move? Has she found something out?

Tugging against him, I bring my other hand up to grab his wrist and shock him into letting me go. I never get the chance though.

“You heard my bride.” Maven. My blood runs cold as he steps onto the balcony, looking over the two guards like they are common dirt. “Let her go.”

The relief I should feel is replaced by cold fear. I’ll take the Sentinels over him any day. I’m not in the mood to play games with him.

“Apologies your Highness, but we must keep Lady Titanos to her schedule.” The one holding me speaks in a baritone that makes Maven’s lips pull down in a frown. His grip is already loosening though. I can’t believe I never realized how in pocket Maven and Elara had the Sentinels. These soldiers stopped serving the king a long time ago. “It’s orders, sir.”

“Then you have new orders,” Maven’s voice is colder than ice. It reminds me of the freezing nights in Paradise Valley when the wolves would howl at the moon and the wind would answer back. “I will accompany Mareena back to her lessons.”

I’d sooner let him walk me off a cliff. But the Sentinels drop my arm none the less and leave us on the balcony. The buffer they put between me and Maven leaves with them, and then I am alone with the man who destroyed me.

“We have working showers inside, you know.”

I push my wet hair out of my face before turning away from him. Jokes aside, I don’t want to see him. My nightmares have returned in all their supernatural fury. Every night I dream of chasing him down a hallway, the burn of the knife as it cuts my side, and feeling of dying in a Silent Stone room. I wake gasping and on the verge of screaming, but no sound comes out. I’m grateful for that at least. Still, I miss Cal’s warmth, and being able to curl against him to tether myself to reality when the dreams refuse to leave.

“I want to be alone.” I murmur, setting my head in my hand. My patience is holding, but not for long.

“I understand that.”

Oh, I know you do. I keep my lips from curling into a sneer by sheer will alone. Lightning flares across the sky again. The storm is creeping beyond us, but I could still pull a bolt down and hit him if I wanted. My aim is perfect. I could cook him to a crisp like I did Elara.

I grip the banister again to settle my thoughts. I can almost feel the char of her hair between my fingers and the weight of her head if I close my eyes. I can hear the hum of the cameras as I hold up the head of a she-wolf and promise to come for the pup.

“I understand how difficult it is.” He continues as he steps up next to me, bolder than he ever was. My eyes snap to him, but I’m more curious now than wary. What has made him so certain? Before, he had still been wary around me. It wasn’t until we joined the Guard together that he truly pretended to open up to me.

His eyes are cold as he stares out over the palace grounds. “These people. They make it impossible. I can’t say what I want, do what I want—with my mother around I can barely even think what I want. And my brother—!”

“What about him?” My blood runs cold. What has Cal done now? He promised he would stop prying—

The words stick in his mouth, and he pales with a blush. He’s not the perfect statesman that locked me in a cage yet. He’s not the boy listening to a ghost in his head yet. There is still a part of him that is Maven, and not the thing his mother created. “He’s strong, he’s talented, he’s powerful—and I’m his shadow. The shadow of the flame.”

The part of me that always understood that part of him, and even loved it quakes. I step out of Gisa’s shadow because of him, but he never does leave Cal’s. He never gives himself the chance. He keeps chasing the edge of Cal’s shadow like there is one. Maven casts his own shadows though. They haunts me and they haunts Cal in the future. If only he knew that.

When the words come to me, they are true and that is what makes me feel sick. “Then maybe you should try to be more than that.”

His eyes widen at my words, and I find myself unable to stop. “You could be more. I think you could. Stop chasing the edges of shadows, you’ll never find them. Find a way to be alone with your own heart, and be happy with it.”

His entire face folds in on itself, pinching in places I never saw before. I’ve never seen this emotion from him, and I have no idea what to call it. For a moment I wonder if I’ve said the wrong things, and done exactly what I told Cal not to do. But a part of me still wants to save the boy that I thought was trying to save me. Even if its hopeless, and he is too far gone to save. Monsters aren’t born, they’re made. Julian told me that once. Well if monsters can be made, they can be unmade too.

“That’s something you should know about us Silvers. We’re always alone. In here, and here.” He gives me a tired smile as he touches his head and then his heart. The line sends a shiver down my spine though. He’d said the same thing last time too. It only reminds me that perhaps we’re on a track, and there is no getting off. There are no other exits, only the ones that I know are coming.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You better learn to hide that heart of yours, Lady Titanos. It won’t lead you anywhere you want to go.”

My heart aches more than he could ever know. This is the boy, this is the truth. There is nothing to save. I am trying to fix a shattered mirror and cutting my hands on the pieces to spill my blood for nothing. I turn my eyes back to the sky, closing them as lightning strikes again, and thunder roars above us. Battle lines were drawn before; I have to redraw them now.

“I think I can help with your problem.”

I turn my eyes back down to him, and instantly he is the Maven I dreamed about. The mask is so perfect. I forget there are cracks that the darkness slips through.

“What problem?”

“You’re homesick.” Holding out his hand to me, he nods down to it when I don’t take it. His skin is like ice when I slide my palm into his. I thought I remember him being warm by this point. Instead, he’s a corpse before I make him one. “I can fix that.” (/////)

The wind cuts through my hair, ripping it from its braid as Cal and I race toward the Stilts. I’ve ridden a cycle with him numerous times since this night. Nothing takes away the rush or competes with the feeling of flying that this generates though. Usually we tear down mountains roads and I close my eyes, trusting him to keep me safe as he cuts around turns. He’s taken Gisa once too. I had to peel her off of him when they returned because she was gripping his body so tightly.

Right now, his body is warm in my arms, warm and real. It reminds me that I’m safe with him. Even if I’m terrified of the situation we’re in.

When we finally reach the branch in the road that will bring us into the Stilts he brings the cycle to a stop, and cuts the engine. I’m the first off, and I peel away from him like a second skin. He pushes it into the trees, his eyes dancing to me every so often as he does so. I know that look he is throwing over his shoulder. I’ve seen the worry that creases his brows and the concern that flares like a light show in his eyes many times when he’s uncertain what’s going through my mind.

“Do you want to talk?” He eventually asks after throwing a few leafy branches over the cycle to hide it. I tuck my hands into the pocket of my coat to hide the shake in them.

“There really was nothing to save.” It’s a thought that’s been going through my mind since Maven confronted me on the balcony.

His expression melts into true concern faster than I can swallow my words. But he swaps that for a different mask of emotion. There’s no jealousy in his eyes, but I can see the beginning flares of his panic. His one true fear before we started this was that I would choose Maven this time around; that maybe he really was the consolation prize all along and I only chose to try again because I lost my chance to be with Maven.

“He’s still a ghost.” I whisper to him before reaching out for his hand. He lets my fingers interlace with his. I squeeze them tightly, trying to get him to understand. “That doesn’t mean I won’t mourn a chance lost.”

He nods tightly, his jaw squeezing until a muscle in it feathers. I cup the spot with my other hand, caressing it to soothe him. “I love you, you know that. Even if you drive me up a wall sometimes.”

With a light laugh, his worry melts away, and I’m glad for it. We can’t be questioning each other right now. There’s too much at stake. There can be no edges. We filed them down after the war so we could fit together after all. That is where the real truth lies though.

Maven carved himself to fit with me. But Cal and I smoothed down together, cutting off the edges that mattered so we could fit. I didn’t need to change for Maven because he melted what he needed to make the perfect mask. It had been a lie from the beginning. A beautiful, wonderful lie. Cal had been real though, had never bothered to hide what he was, even when those parts hurt. He made me better, and I made him better. Nothing about Maven had made me better. He made me strong sure, but a brittle kind of strong that hurt anyone that got too close.

Reaching out, he pushes my hair away from my face, his smile falling fast. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”

He could be talking about anything. Shade. Maven. All the New Bloods. Losing myself. Losing people I love. Even losing him for a bit.

“I don’t.” I insist, even though the words cut up my insides like glass as I speak them. The truth cuts sometimes. I’m used to the sting. (////////)

The meeting with my family still stabs like a knife. Kilorn’s rage burns like a brand. Gisa’s wish rings in my ears. I feel like I’m drowning, being swallowed up by the old emotions. It’s like reading a book where I know the ending and hesitate to turn every page. I hate every second. Even as I make my way straight of Will’s wagon.

Cal trails me, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows so Kilorn doesn’t see him, and so Will’s spies don’t notice him ether. Kilorn knows who Cal is, I know he does. He had known from the moment he first saw him. I couldn’t be more grateful for my friend keeping his fat mouth shut around my family though. I think my dad would have found a way to stand and kill Cal where he stood if he knew he was the Crown Prince.

I hold my hand out, telling him to stay back silently, while I take the final ten meters to the wagon on my own. He melts into the shadows, playing the part of a shadow so expertly I have to do a double take. But even his eyes are gone. Maybe he turned and went back to the cycle. I hope he did. When I step into the wagon, it’s to see Will smiling, already waiting for what I have to say. I tell him everything. And just like he did last time, he admits to knowing everything.

Tristan waits behind the curtain, ready to pounce. I can see the toes of his boots before he announces his presence. He’s more arrogant than I remember. I still see the pole Ptolemus shoots through him though, and the mental image makes me shudder.

“The royal monkeys have chosen a queen this past week.” Tristan’s smile is cold as he looks me over. “You’ve been all over the screens Lady Titanos.”

I hate that name, and all the implications of it. “They aren’t all monkeys.” I insist, and the fire that lights in his eyes makes me wish I hadn’t said anything.

“Are you talking about the prince you’re engaged to or the one waiting outside in the shadows?” Will asks as he leans back and rests his hands on his stomach.

My heart does a jump and a skip, and I’m sure all the blood drains from my face. I thought we’d been careful and I had been incredibly impressed with how Cal disappeared. Still, I should have known, Will is a spy in the Guard for a reason.

Tristan erupts though, and takes two quick steps for the door, his hand flying to his pistol. I leap and grab his wrist though, twisting it expertly and spinning to put myself between him and the door. And ultimately between him and Cal.

“You brought a Silver here?” he hisses down at me, even though my hands are already lighting with sparks. “The Crown Prince? Do you know what we could do if we took him in? What we could bargain for?”

Relax, I want sneer, you get him eventually. And he will do far more this time than he did last time. My words when I do speak are low, like thunder in the distance as I glare him down. “You leave him alone.”

Tristan’s lip curls in disgust. “A few weeks in the lap of luxury and your blood is as silver as theirs,” he spits, looking like he wants to curl his fingers around my throat and throttle me. “Do they take turns?”

“What?” I gasp in surprise. That’s not in the script.

“Do they take turns rolling in the sheets with you?” His lips curl at the surprise on my face. “Or do you pick one over the other? I’m going to guess the one hiding out there gets the most time.”

Fury like nothing before sears through me. I bring a hand up that sparks as I sneer. “You idiot. I’m protecting you from him. He’s a trained soldier that would turn you inside out like a shirt if he wanted. And he’d burn this place down if you so much as tried to go after him.”

You’re only alive because I haven’t burned the oxygen from this room. A real threat, one I believed when Cal said it the first time, and one I believe now. I have to keep Tristan away from Cal. I can’t have a stray bullet finding its way into his chest or his head.

Tristan deflates, his anger melting away as I slowly lower my hand and disburse the sparks. Will lays a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, calming him further. “That’s enough,” he whispers. “What did you come here for, Mare? Kilron is safe and so are you siblings.”

This is what I came here for. To put the pieces in motion finally. To start the game for my side. “Shade was a member of the Guard, and they killed him for it.” The only fact I can trace. “I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re dead if you don’t.” Will reasons.

“I know. I’ll say what they want. But I’m in the palace, the center of the royal family. I’m quick, and quiet. And I will help the cause.”

Tristan sucks in a ragged breath. His eyes light with a new fire, this one vastly different from his anger. He rises to his full height, beaming at my words. “You want to join up.”

“I do.” My words are final, and I don’t bother to look at Will, only Tristan.

“I hope you know what you’re committing to. This isn’t just my war, or Farley’s or the Scarlet Guards—it’s yours. Until the very end. And not to avenge your brother but to avenge us all. To fight for the ones before and the ones to come.”

The ones to come. My chest squeezes as I picture Clare’s toothless grin at the same time that her laugh rings through my ears. My own hand curls into a fist on my stomach. There are plenty to come. I swore myself to the Guard to protect them before I even knew about them, and now more than ever my heart pounds for that future. I will fight tooth and nail for it. I will spill my blood and others so that someday, someday I can sit on my porch and watch a little dark haired boy run rampant in the backyard. So my brother’s name can live on in his daughter. So that someday my family never has to be hungry. So that someday, I never have to be afraid.

I slip my hand into Will’s gnarled one. Cal warned me of war once, of what it brings. We both know the cost now, but I know what waits for us on the other side. There is a light, there is hope, there is good. I will do whatever it takes to get back there. Even if it means mucking my way through blood and mud once again.

“I am with you.”

“We will rise,” Will breathes in unison with Tristan. The words are like hope burning in my chest, lighting up the room around us as I speak them too. “Red as the dawn.”

(////////)

Cal is quiet as we walk through the halls of the palace. And I am too. My silence is contemplative though, his is patient while he waits for what I have to say. He’s always waiting, waiting for me to cross the bridge. He waited for me to say yes too. He asked seven times before I said yes to him in the dead of night wrapped up in cool sheets and half delirious with sleep. I’d pressed a kiss to the space between his brows and said yes without him asking. He waited almost two years for me to say that word after he asked the first time. Now he waits without asking. He knows I will talk eventually.

“I have to tell you something.” I eventually whisper, and grab his wrist. The cameras whisper around us, and I turn my eyes in their direction before saying, “Your rooms are safe.”

When Maven brought me there, I made sure to do a sweep. There are no cameras in Cal’s room. I wonder why, but I don’t bother to question it too much. It’s a silent blessing, the perfect meeting place. I don’t have to wait until the guards change to speak with him.

He nods and takes me a back way. For a moment, I fear we’re lost, until we turn a corner and he brings us to his door. He glances over his shoulder at the same time that I swipe my hand to surge electricity through the camera’s wires, shorting it long enough for me to slide in the room and him to follow me without us being seen.

In the dark of his rooms, I feel like a ghost. He goes to turn the lights on but I catch his hand. And for the first time in a long time, almost shock him. The hairs on his arms rise as my sparks threaten to explode out from under my skin. I haven’t been this nervous in so long. It makes him jumpy.

“What happened?” He asks quickly, spinning to face me and grabbing my shoulders. His shadow looks different in the dark, smaller and less imposing. Strange how that is what made him most human to me the first time as well.

I slip out of his grip only to dive into his chest, wrapping my arms around his middle and burying my nose in his shirt. He smells just a hint like the river as spending a couple of hours in the Stilts, but underneath it, that scent of burning wood clings to him. It relaxes every muscle in my body as I inhale.

He wraps is arms around my shoulders in response. For a moment, I think he’ll repeat his question. Instead he just reaches up to threads his fingers through my hair that I pulled out of the braid long ago, tangling them in the slightly wavy locks. I can’t hold the secret in any longer, not now that I’ve signed up for this, and he will someday too. I should have told him the moment I found out, but I wanted it be a surprise, a little secret that I could tell him with a laugh. Instead, I feel like I’m telling him before we walk to the gallows. It taints the joy, the happiness of what is to come.

“I wasn’t completely honest with you before all this.”

His shoulders stiffen as I bring my hands up to close them in fists on his back. I’m never good at starting conversations like this and I immediately regret the words I spoke. He’s already on edge, and I made I worse. Squeezing the fabric of his shirt softly, I murmur, “before we got here.”

He relaxes again, and disengages from our embrace to lift my chin. He needs to know, deserves to know.

“I didn’t want to go after Giselle that night. I told you I was tired, but there was another reason.” It has never been so hard to put something into words. I wish I had just told him in the first place, maybe this whole mess could have been avoided if I had.

His brows furrow and his face twists as he tries to think back to that strange night and morning. I grab his hands and squeeze tight, willing him to pay attention to my words, more than the memory of what I said.

“I was going to tell you we had to call off the wedding—”

His eyes widen in surprise, and he opens his mouth to speak. I press my finger to his lips to keep him from doing just that. “For just a little while. Something came up.”

He sits with baited breath, his expression confused and fearful. A mix that’s dangerous for a soldier, especially one like Cal that is used to knowing everything. My lips curl into a weak smile as I say, “We have to get back because something’s waiting for us. Or it may have come with us. I’m not sure. If it did, I have to be more careful than I thought.”

His eyes dart around the room like someone might be listening, and he slowly takes my hand to pull me into his closet where our voices will be furthered muffled. Has he grasped what I’m about tell him? Cal’s observant, even with all his bullheaded tendencies, and he’s not stupid. He knows me well enough to notice when my habits change. And they had been changing, little by little. I’m a subtle creature, but he’s very good at reading me now.

In the safety of his closet, I can smile bright. I can let the warmth of my news pulse out of me like sunlight. It had terrified me the moment I knew what was happening, but slowly that panic had been replaced by a strange joy, a strange curiosity. And now, it was longing.

“You can talk freely now.” He whispers.

The words die. They won’t come. Like stones, they sit in my throat and choke me. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. Is it cruel to get his hopes up about something we may never be able to return to? And yet, this is not just my burden to bear. This is our future. I am in this to get back to my family. He is in this to get back to what we had in Montfort. He may need something else, something to fight for that isn’t just me. Even if it’s not as tangible as it is for me.

I’ll just have to say it, push the words out one by one. “I was pregnant.”

They come easier than I thought, and honestly come out more like a garbled rush than the wonderful phrase they should be. As soon as I speak those words into existence though, the joy leaves, only to be replaced by trepidation and the air around us is leeched of its warmth.

“What?” Cal’s question is a wheeze, a word not quite formed.

“Three or four months, I wasn’t sure.” I grab his hand and squeeze as his eyes widen in the dark to the side of moons. “I told you we had so much waiting for us. That’s what is waiting for us. We have to follow everything to the line because of that future.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispers, his eyes darting as he thinks back over everything, every action I committed before that night, every word I spoke.

“I was going to tell you that night, but then we got called to deal with Giselle.” I shake my head, laughing quietly. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I am not the only one privy to this secret knowledge.

His eyes darken though. Storm clouds gather in his irises as he leans down to whisper. “You said you didn’t know if it came with us.”

“All my knowledge and memories came with me… and I’m in the same body theoretically just--just five or six years younger. It might have come with me.” It’s a long shot, but if I’m right, we have far bigger problems than we originally thought.

“You don’t look like—”

“I didn’t look like it in Montfort either.” I reason dryly. He would have noticed if I did. His lips twist and he nods.

“What do you want to do?”

“I’m going to wait and see if anything happens.”

He pales at the prospect, but I grip his fingers tightly again, forcing his gaze back down to me. “This is what we are fighting to get back to. Why we have to be so careful.”

“I wish you’d told me sooner.” He murmurs before reaching down to circle one of his arms around my waist. In the dark I’m not quite sure if he’s smiling or grimacing. Not until he cups my jaw and presses his lips to mine. He pours every ounce of the joy that is about to explode out of him into that kiss. It mixes with mine until I’m certain we are glowing like a small sun.

And in that closet, nestled in a nest of snakes and wolves, I finally let myself breathe.

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tuancore · 3 years

Text

Purple Hearts || { Part 3 } :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader.

Genre- Angst | Non-Idol AU , Disorder AU.

Summary- I'll continue to love you for as long as I'm breathing, but I won't let my love come in between your happiness.

*GIF not mine, credits to the owner*

"I thought you were going to stay at BamBam's place toni—", Your words were cut as Yugyeom grabbed your arms harshly making you yelp in pain. "You're hurting me Yugyeom!", You informed still struggling to remove his hand but all he did was give you a stern look.

"Hurt? You say hurt huh?", He chuckled sarcastically before yanking your arms from his grasp, "Do you even know what you fucking got yourself into?".

"Yugyeom!", You yelled at his language.

"No Noona, not today!" He shouted back with those fierce eyes which you have seen only once or twice in your lifetime, "You..." He pointed his fingers at you as he spoke "You are the one who is responsible for everything!".

"I don't know what you're saying", You muttered softly turning around avoiding eye contact. "You don't know? You don't know?! Woah! Such a great actress aren't you?".

You exactly knew what he was referring to but you didn't want him to rub salt on your wounds gulping a tight knot in your throat, you said, "Yugyeom not now".

"Not now, then when? You never fucking told hyung that you liked him! You never told him that you have loved him every single moment of your life since you came to know the meaning of love!....." He added roughly, "But I never interfered I thought— actually all of us thought that you will confess to him yourself! But look at what you did....you gave his hand to Somi?".

"I didn't do anything... Jinyoung loves Somi, not me" You informed still your back facing him. "Yeah you are correct... because you didn't do anything for yourself....for your love....for your heart .....but you did for Jinyoung hyung!".

"I didn't do anything for anyone! He loves Somi and he's marrying her that's it!" You snapped, "Don't get me involved into this".

"Jinyoung hyung told us that it was you who helped him with Somi, he told us about all the date plans....all the outings that you planned for them..." Yugyeom blurted monotonously grabbing your arm again and forcing you to face him, "You fucking became a matchmaker!".

"Why would you do that to yourself? Why?" This time your brother's voice utterly soft, his eyes glimmering with tears, "I did it for him..." You whispered as a tear slipped down your left cheek, "I did it for Jinyoung, I did it for his happiness....".

"You shouldn't have....Why don't you ever think about yourself....... even for once? When will you understand that his happiness is not everything"

"That's where you are wrong....his happiness is everything for me, he is everything for me", You expressed with so much pain in your voice.

Yugyeom knew that you were not only hurting but were broken after what Jinyoung has done today. He shouldn't be getting angry at Jinyoung, he has absolutely no right to but he can't seem to stop thinking about your heart. He has spent all his age watching you caring for him and loving him.

"Then why are you crying ? You should be enjoying and celebrating his happiness but here you are in your room....crying your eyes out", Yugyeom whispered lightly.

"I'm— I'll be alright it's just a moment of weakness I'll overcome this, trust me", You stammered wiping your tears from the sleeves of your dress, "You should go back, you promised Bam for a sleepover remember?" You chuckled trying to ease the tension.

Yugyeom kept quiet observing your facial expressions even if you laughed and proclaimed to get better, he understood that you won't. You can never get over your broken heart, your broken soul and on top of everything you can never get over Jinyoung.

"Go or should I call BamBam to carry you?" You teased pushing him out of your door but he was in no mood for humour. No words left his mouth but he obliged to leave you to yourself for now.

"I'll be one call away", He said walking away from you.

_____________

Since that night you avoided seeing Jinyoung at all costs, you were not hating on him but you needed some time to collect yourself so that you can face him again. You drowned yourself into your job doing overtime as well. The thing that also chewed you from inside was Yugyeom's silence, he no longer got excited seeing you coming home with handful of his favourite take outs, no longer went outside for fun or drinks.

"Yugyeom!" You shouted from outside his bedroom's door when he refused to come out, "Yugyeom! Come out please! Please!".

"My stomach is full, I have no appetite for more", his monotone landed a hard slap on your face. He was purposely trying to avoid you as well it was so clear. "Yugyeom I know you're angry at me but please don't vent your anger out on food....you....you haven't eaten anything since previous night".

"Why do you care? All you care about is Jinyoung hyung then go and care for him! I don't need your consolation!" He shouted.

"Please Kyum don't do this to yourself, think about yourself", You practically begged him after all he's your little brother.

He unlocked the door standing tall in front of you, with those emotionless eyes folding his arms to his chest, "Hypocrisy! You are telling me to think about myself when you yourself doesn't think about yourself".

"That's a different topic Kyum, come one let's eat", You commanded holding his wrist dragging him downstairs to the dining table.

"Why don't you let me starve? Why are you trying to feed me when I don't want to?" He asked vehemently yanking his wrist from your grasp. "Because I'm your Noona, you're my little brother, I can't see you suffering!", You expressed boldly.

"If I'm your brother...then you're also my sister, how do you expect me to stay calm and watch you suffering alone? You think I've not noticed how much stress you're taking on yourself just to avoid hyung and his thoughts? That I've not heard you sobbing in the middle of the night? That I've not noticed how miserable you have become? You think.........it's a good and pleasing sight for me?.......It's been three weeks and all you've done is cry every single night, skip meals and overwork yourself.....you promised me that you'll get over him and this......", He circled your face in air with his index finger, " This is not called moving on....you're destroying yourself from outside as well".

"Then what do you expect me to do?" You challenged him.

"Tell him that you love him", he stated without any trace of humour, "Tell him everything about your feelings for him".

"I—I can't d—do that".

"If that so then I've absolutely no problem in informing him myself", He shrugged.

"You won't do that Yugyeom...." You pleaded, "He's getting married in two and a half months—".

"So what? His marriage or his love life is none of my concern but you are....and I can't let him love someone else while you're on the verge of dying!" He yelled in rage "And now the choice is yours either you tell him that you love him or I will......you have a week".

With those words he rushed back inside his room slamming the door shut, he got you into a dilemma if you told Jinyoung that you love him, you always have loved him and only him— he'll definitely reject you on your face and the things will get awkward between you both, even more than strangers or worse if he decides to break all strings with you.

Technically the same thing will happen even if Yugyeom were to tell Jinyoung. Holding your head in between both your hands you tried to contain yourself, by the way Yugyeom is reacting you're dead sure that he will not step back from his word.

"A week.." You sighed to yourself, "What am I supposed to do?".

My Neung Neung :

Hey why are you not answering my calls?

My Neung Neung:

Yugyeom told me that you're busy with some paperwork but I miss you.

My Neung Neung:

Please let's hangout this Sunday just you and me like old times.

My Neung Neung:

It's so boring without you T_T I'm losing my mind please lets meet up please please.

My Neung Neung:

I'll fill your inbox unless you call me or text me.

My Neung Neung:

Please! Come on girl you can't be that busy to not talk to me.

My Neung Neung:

Y/N !

Hellooooooo!!!!

Anyone there!!!!!

Hey my bestie!!!! Your Jinyoungie is missing you!!!!

He needs you!!!

Come on!!!

You can't avoid me like this !

I love you Y/N!

His messages brought that smile to your face which you had been missing for weeks now, he really had that impact on you. Your eyes stopped at 'Your Jinyoungie' and 'I love you', you felt your breath hitching your mind shouted that it was out of friendly love and gesture but your heart said otherwise that he really needed you and that he loves you like you love him when you knew it can't be possible.

Surely you had been successful in avoiding him for straight three weeks but he never stopped calling you atleast hundred times a day, doesn't he have Somi to look after or call her over if he wants some company, however this is the first time he has messaged you in these weeks. And seeing how much you yourself missed Jinyoung, you couldn't bring yourself to ignore him anymore, so you decided to message him back.

You :

Sorry I was really busy with my job but I'll be free after tomorrow.

Let's hangout together on Sunday.

Clicking the send, you sighed heavily wondering about what you'll do regarding Yugyeom's threat when your phone buzzed again you unlocked it hoping for Jinyoung's reply but the name on your screen got your mind spinning.

Aunt Park :

Let's meet tomorrow at my house, no excuses.

And don't worry Jinyoung won't be there.

Part 2 | Master list | Part 4

______________________________________

#got7 imagines #got7 jinyoung #got7 x reader #jinyoung imagines #got7 angst #got7 bambam #got7 jackson #got7 jaebeom #got7 mark #got7 youngjae #got7 yugyeom #got7 breath of love: last piece #got7 jb #jinyoung x reader #jinyoung x you #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung angst #jinyoung fluff

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foxghost · 4 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 17

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 1, Chapter 5 (part 3)

Duan Ling is a bit overly thrilled; when he’s with Li Jianhong, life is entirely unfettered. However big the world is, they’re free to do whatever they like, never having to worry about anything no matter where they go. Li Jianhong will even occasionally let him steer the horse and run wildly all over the plains.

“Wanna ride the horse on your own for a bit?” Li Jianhong asks, sounding genuinely interested.

Duan Ling does somewhat want to try it — he’s never ridden a horse on his own before, but he’s a little afraid if it means Li Jianhong won’t be there to protect him.

“Come on then!” Li Jianhong jumps off the horse and casually smacks it on the hindquarters. The horse immediately whinnies and bolts off like a shot. Duan Ling is so startled he starts yelling at the top of his lungs, turning to call out, “Dad — !”

Li Jianhong waves at him. He whistles loudly, and the warhorse leaps right past a brook, galloping away at top speed. Duan Ling keeps yelling over and over; he finds it rather exciting at first, but by the time he looks back again Li Jianhong is nowhere to be found and now he’s suddenly panicking. He tries to turn the horse around, but the war-horse won’t listen to his commands. Duan Ling yells, terrified, “Stop running! Dad! Where are you, dad?!”

The war-horse charges into a forest and Duan Ling nearly falls off. He wraps his arms tightly over its back and cries out sounding like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Dad —! Where are you?!”

The cadence of the whistling rise, fall, and stop. Li Jianhong appears from behind a tree and looks at him cheerfully.

Duan Ling nearly faint dead away. He gets off the horse at once and throws his arms around Li Jianhong to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Its name is Wanlibenxiao.” Li Jianhong gives the divine steed a pat, and it lowers its head, snorts, nudging Duan Ling with its nose. Duan Ling let out a sigh of relief only then.

“It’s a Wusun horse.” Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling’s hand, and takes the reins with his other hand as he explains, “Your dad saved the King of Wusun beneath Mount Qilin. They gave me this horse as thanks.”

“It runs so fast. It nearly bucked me right off.”

“On my escape from the snowy desert, it was the one who saved my life.”

At midday Li Jianhong and Duan Ling are pushing their way through the forest when Duan Ling spots a lot of fruit he does not recognise. “What is this?”

“Winter cherry.” Li Jianhong gives it a passing glance. “Too sour. Don’t randomly eat wild fruit and mushrooms off the side of the road. The more colourful it is, the more likely it is to be highly toxic.”

“I won’t eat it. And what kind of tree is this?” Duan Ling possesses an extraordinary level of curiosity, and over time he has discovered something rather crucial — no matter what question he asks Li Jianhong he’d be given a convincing answer, and not Lang Junxia’s typical ‘don’t ask, you’ll find out in the future’.

“Desert poplar. The young ones look like willow trees, but once they unfold they’re extremely resistant to drought.”

Li Jianhong is nearly omniscient. Duan Ling thinks to himself, what am I even studying for? If I don’t understanding anything all I have to do is ask dad.

Duan Ling asks, “Are we going to sleep outside tonight?”

“Well that won’t do.” Li Jianhong declares firmly, “In all likelihood, my son ought to be able to get a hot meal in Huaide before sundown.”

“Where’s Huaide?”

“A place in Xinzhou.”

“And where’s Xinzhou?” Duan Ling is practically completely ignorant about the world.

“The founding Liao emperor chose Shangjing as the capital and established the Shangjing Road as one of the nineteen main roads, and southward on Shangjing Road goes to Xinzhou; farther south from Xinzhou and you reach the great wall.”

Duan Ling knows about the great wall. “Past the great wall you’ll get to Yubiguan, and if you keep going south after that you’ll reach Zhili,2 then taking the Hebei road southwards …”

“Precisely.” Li Jianhong dodges a branch. “You’ll reach Shangzi, and Runan. Nowadays that’s all Liao territory.”

“Is the entire Chen empire farther south?”

“Land north and south of the Yangtze went to Chen.” As though ancient memories have been called to the fore, Li Jianhong heaves a sigh. “In Xichuan, Jiangnan, and Jiangzhou.”

“You said before that we’ll return to the Chen empire, right?”

“Do you really want to go back?” Li Jianhong asks.

They’ve exited the forest before they know it. Li Jianhong picks up Duan Ling, helps him onto the horse, and they canter along the stream. On horseback, Duan Ling says, “The headmaster says the south is very beautiful. It’s too bad I’ve never seen it.”

Duan Ling has no idea that imagining a distant paradise of peach blossoms that he’s never seen before is far too strenuous for him.

“Those who travel far are guests, and they all miss home.” Li Jianhong gets on the horse as well. “Those in the south miss the north, those in the north miss the south; all Han have the same idea. It’s true. The south is quite beautiful.”

Little by little, the past five years Duan Ling spent in Shangjing has helped him understand a lot. He has realised that when the iron hoofs of Liao cavalry went south, the Han had to leave their homeland against their will. Each Han living in Shangjing is holding onto this one dying breath hoping from the bottom of their heart to one day return to the south.

“Did our family also die out when the Liao military marched south?” Duan Ling asks.

“What?” This question has interrupted Li Jianhong’s line of thought. Beneath them their horse trots along, not too fast and not too slow. Li Jianhong pats Duan Ling’s head and answers, “Our family is still around, but there aren’t that many of us left.”

“Who else is there?” Duan Ling has never thought that he’d have relatives too, but today he suddenly gets the sense that he’s just like every other person: he has a father, a mother, uncles and aunts and other relatives, such as that ‘fourth uncle’ his father spoke of but that he himself has never met.

“Your fourth uncle and your fifth aunt are both still around. Now, dad’s going to tell you, but just keep it in your heart, my son. You mustn’t tell anyone.”

Duan LIng nods, so Li Jianhong continues, “Your dad comes in third. I had one eldest brother who died before reaching adulthood. Second was an older sister, not a daughter of the principal wife, and she died young too. My younger brother, the fourth, is still in Xichuan. He doesn’t have children yet. Your fifth aunt got married off to Jiangnan.”

“What about your dad?”

“Still around. He likes your fourth uncle, but he doesn’t like me … gup!”

That’s why Li Jianhong’s feelings toward the south is so complicated — Duan Ling gets it now. At the same time what he can also feel is Li Jianhong’s avoidance of the past; so thoughtfully, he does not press him with any further questions.

At spring’s end and the onset of summer, Jiangzhou is paved in snow white viburnum, eight blossoms to the end of each branch full of life, set off against a solitary spring mountain backdrop paired with a clear sky so blue it looks freshly washed. Occasionally there’ll be multicoloured kites rising in the distance, its image reflecting off the mirror-like lake, and when the lines twist and break they fly off after the birds to vanish at the end of the mountain forests.

Dressed in a long azure gown, Lang Junxia leads his horse along the meandering plank-lined path downhill. He passes by the city of Jiangzhou without entering, merely stopping by the shore of the Yangtze River to scoop up a handful of southern water for a drink before boarding a long-distance boat. The boat will go north along the river, enter the Xichuan province beneath Mount Yuheng, making a detour around the difficult Roads to Shu3 as he heads toward the southern Chen capital.

He speaks very little along the way; when the other guests disembark he steps off the boat also, to stand next to the shore, bowing down to drink a handful of water. Three months later, Lang Junxia finally arrives in the city of Xichuan.

The city walls are verdant and lush, coloured with greenery. When autumn comes it will be covered in blooming cotton roses.

Once inside the national capital, Lang Junxia makes his way to a bookshop in the west quadrant. He twists off the rusted lock easily, and the inside is covered in dust. He finds the horse a place to rest first and feeds it some hay, then he unties his travelling cloth bundle from his shoulder before pushing the door open and entering the book shop — then his steps abruptly stop.

There is a masked assassin standing beneath the drab sunlight. It both seems as though he’s waited for Lang Junxia for a long time, and that he just got here.

The assassin is tall and sturdily built, standing over nine feet tall; he will not look less stalwart if standing next to Li Jianhong. With a sword in his hand he’s planted there in the main hall like a mountain range. His eyes, showing above the mask, are staring intently at Lang Junxia.

“Greetings,” the assassin declares the first phrase.

Lang Junxia puts his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist.

“My name is Chang Liujun,” the assassin states the second phrase, and slowly he reaches up at his mask with his fingers, pulling it down to reveal a handsome face.

“I’ve come to kill you,” Chang Liujun finishes with the third phrase.

Lang Juxia doesn’t wait for Chang Liujun to raise his hand before drawing his sword, but Chang Liujun already had his in hand; he was waiting precisely for this moment to make his preemptive strike. Lang Junxia only manages to get his sword half out of its scabbard before Chang Liujun’s Baihongjian rings through the air, a line of sword force suddenly looming right before his eyes.

This moment is the closest to death Lang Junxia has ever been in his entire life.

And yet Chang Liujun, who has had everything perfectly planned, never expected that even with such meticulous design Lang Junxia can still manage to slip away from the one strike that certainly should have ended his life — Lang Junxia raises his left hand and lowers his right, and Qingfengjian, three inches drawn, is abruptly returned to its scabbard. With a resounding boom, his internal qi surges out in a wave and at once locks Chang Liujun’s blade in place.

Lang Junxia pays dearly for this one move. He follows it by gripping the scabbard with his left hand, and with the momentum of turning to avoid their collision, he drags Chang Liujun with him as he turns; the two reverse position and each pushes out a palm at the same time — Lang Junxia with his right and Chang Liujun his left.

The left hand is ultimately weaker than the right hand; as their palms connect, Chang Liujun’s stone-shattering form is received by Lang Junxia at a near touch, then defusing it with a soft force, he redirects it against the wall. With a loud crash the entire wall collapses beneath Chang Liujun’s strength.

Blood sprays from Lang Junxia’s right hand, and crashing through the door he fades into the crowded marketplace, vanishing without a trace.

Chang Liujung takes two steps forward, and bends down to pick up a finger from the floor. He then puts on his bamboo hat. Upon his return to the chancellor’s estate, he throws the little finger for the dog to eat without a second thought, puts away his sword in his room, and returns to the study through the corridor.

Mu Kuangda is currently writing a memorial earnestly beseeching the emperor to abdicate his throne so he may enjoy the rest of his twilight years in peace.

“I failed.” Chang Liujun comes to a stop behind Mu Kuangda.

“If you weren’t always announcing those three phrases before you make your move,” Mu Kuangda calmly observes, “he probably couldn’t have gotten away. Where did you injure him?”

“His right hand is missing its little finger.”

“Then let’s send a letter to the general. I’m sure he’ll be quite happy.”

The northern county of Huaide is hidden deep among the Altyn-Tagh’s ranges, and it is a place one must traverse on one’s way into the mountain forests or while heading towards Shangjing. Its county town encompasses a wide area, its villages and countryside scattered deep in the mountains, with winding, spiderweb-like footpaths connecting them back to the town. Now happens to be the spring season where all is lush and the mountains are bountiful, thus Huaide has become a place where goods are bartered.

This is the first time Duan Ling has ever been anywhere aside from Shangjing and Runan. His eyes are brimming over with curiosity as he looks around him, sitting astride on horseback with Li Jianhong, passing through the marketplace outside a hamlet.

“Hey! Tiger skin and tiger bones, want some?!”

“Where are you from?”

“Want candy?”

Duan Ling daren’t answer. He glances at Li Jianhong.

“What? If you want something, just take it. You don’t have to look at me — of course I’ll pay for it for you.”

“I can’t talk to strangers, can I?”

Li Jianhong starts to laugh. “There’s no such rule. You want to talk, talk. Talk to whomever you like.”

Thereupon Duan Ling comes to an herbal medicine vendor and inquires curiously, “What is this? Is it an ox bezoar?”

The vendor’s spread is full of strange plants and rare herbs gathered in the valleys of the Altyn-tagh, and a piece of ox bezoar the size of a hen’s egg has attracted Duan Ling’s attention. Li Jianhong merely gives it a passing glance before handing over the money to buy it for Duan Ling.

“It’s not that you can’t talk to strangers.” Li Jianhong leads the horse by the reins and walks slowly next to Duan Ling through the marketplace. “It’s that in an unfamiliar environment, you need to know what you should say and what you shouldn’t say in order to fulfil the purpose of protecting yourself.”

Duan Ling makes an affirmative noise — he understands that Li Jianhong is teaching him how to deal with people and conduct himself.

Li Jianhong continues, “Society is made up of all kinds of people. Even if you don’t go around hurting other people, it may well be that other people will try to harm you.”

“Then how am I supposed to know what I should say and what I shouldn’t say?”

“When you don’t have a task to accomplish,” Li Jianhong explains, “you can say anything. But you must observe the person you’re speaking with, and be vigilant in case the other party has bad intentions. Do not speak of wealth to the poor, do not discuss poverty with the rich, do not argue opinions with men, do not grow desires towards women.”

“When you do have a task to accomplish, you can’t let just anyone know who you are. You must be constantly on your guard.” Li Jianhong adds, “When the circumstances demand it, you’ll also have to invent another identity in accordance with the local environment. Places of ill-repute such as inns are a mixed crowd, so when it comes to important things, you must remain tight-lipped. Especially with the innkeeper and the waiters, and random people — you mustn’t let them know what you’ve come for.”

Duan Ling only kind of gets it. He nods.

“When it comes down to it, one must not let greed take root while on a journey. Don’t go around coveting what doesn’t belong to you and you’ll be saved a lot of trouble.”

Li Jianhong brings Duan Ling to an inn for food and lodgings, and tells the waiter that they’ll be staying for the night, handing over his personal identity papers to the innkeeper for inspection. Currently things are complicated in Liao with all the tribes travelling all about each with their own standard for documentation, so the innkeeper can’t see anything odd about the papers either, thus he instructs his workers to get a high quality room ready.

”Dad, are we going to keep travelling tomorrow?" Duan Ling lies in Li Jianhong’s lap, while Li Jianhong leans back against the headboard with his arms around Duan Ling, still lost in thought.

“You don’t want to go?”

Duan Ling replies eh, a bit sleepy, and shakes his head. “Let’s go.”

Li Jianhong kisses Duan Ling, and Duan Ling turns to his side, buries his head in Li Jianhong’s shoulder and nuzzles him this way and that. Li Jianhong airs the thought, “What, not happy?”

Duan Ling doesn’t say anything either, just keeps nuzzling him. Li Jianhong says, “You just want attention, huh.”

Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling down on the daybed and tickles him until he’s laughing aloud and struggling back. When they’re face to face, Li Jianhong stares at Duan Ling’s eyes, then taking his hand he lets it rest on his own cheek. And closing his eyes, he gets lost in his thoughts again.

Bleary-eyed, Daun Ling stares at Li Jianhong’s face groggily. He runs his fingers over Li Jianhong’s profile, his lips, and leaning on Li Jianhong’s shoulder, he gradually falls asleep.

There is commotion outside; when Duan Ling opens his eyes again, it’s already morning. The noise startles him, and thinking it’s people hunting them down he asks, “What is it?”

“Nothing much.” Now that Duan Ling is awake, Li Jianhong gets up to wring out a towel to help him wash up.

Turmoil had descended upon Huaide overnight, with many retreating from the northeast road dragging their entire families with them. They’re all yelling, “The Mongols are coming!”

“Let’s go! Everyone, this way!”

Duan Ling has never seen anything like this before. He anxiously surveys Huaide’s main road outside the inn and finds it densely packed with refugees as far as his eyes can see. Duan Ling and his father are having noodles inside the inn, but Li Jianhong doesn’t seem phased at all by this unusual sight.

“Stay out!” The innkeeper looks rather displeased, making the waiter go outside to drive off the refugees; in times of chaos those without money can barely move an inch. Duan Ling glances outside from time to time, and finds a child about his own age with a much younger child, and looking dirty and dishevelled they make their way inside.

“Want some?” Duan Ling takes a flatbread, giving it to the older child. “Rest for a bit.”

“Outside! The lot of you, outside!” The waiter says.

Li Jianhong shoots the waiter a look. Just a look, and the waiter dares not speak again.

“I’ll take one for my little brother.” The child bows. “Thank you very much. Safe journey to you, sir.”

Duan Ling can’t help feeling a pang in his heart at the scene of them together. The child understands their social position though, and only takes up a little corner to feed his little brother flatbread.

Li Jianhong takes another piece of flatbread, pries it apart, and soaks in a bowl of mutton soup for Duan Ling.

“Where’d you come from?” Li Jianhong asks offhandedly.

“Huchang,” the child answers.

“Oh? Has the city been captured?” Li Jianhong asks.

“It won’t be long now.” The older child says, “The Mongols are coming, and everyone’s worried they’d massacre everyone in the city, so they’re all running to Shangjing. Could you give us some water please, guv’nor?”

Li Jianhong picks up the pot to pour tea, and gives the child a cup of tea. The child takes a few big gulps first before feeding it to his little brother.

“Where’s your mom and dad?” Duan Ling asks.

“We got separated.” The older child says, “If you’re heading north, can you ask around for us …”

“We’re heading east.” Li Jianhong says, “You need not worry. The Mongols haven’t made it here yet. Presumably your parents are okay.”

The older child gives him a nod. “Do be careful on your way east as well. Mongol troops are all over the mountains and the plains.”

“Let’s go.” Li Jianhong settles the bill for their food and lodgings, and leaves the inn with Duan Ling. They get on Wanlibenxiao, then going around the road they tear away from the village.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

Zhili was just the old name for Hebei, however that wasn’t its name until the Ming dynasty. Before that it just meant wherever the capital is. ↩︎

The Roads to Shu ran mostly up and down mountains. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

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