#given the (gestures in the direction of war) and how tired he was of seeing death all the time
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heavywithplot · 2 years ago
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Do you ever devise plots around the children your characters have? What their family life is like? How they raise these kids?
I'm just curious to know as I love your plots and they are so fun and intriguing.
it depends! for stuff like john and the harvester, there are no children involved, so there's nothing there to explore, but for things like the knock off ancient world narratives: absolutely! there's nothing messier than high stakes inheritance claims, and for stuff like that, you need to world build the family life otherwise it's. boring.
I have this one ancient-rome-but-I-filed-the-serial-numbers-off-it story where this one guy hooks up with general of his father (the emperor) (everyone's above 20 here btw), and a week later the emperor is assassinated, and the guy realizes he's pregnant. the general is making a play at assuming power, even though the main character is technically listed in the will as successor, and he hates the idea of the general taking advantage of the pregnancy to legitimize his take over for power, so his best friend comes up with an idea to get married and pass the baby off as his, and there's like. another 20 years of story I've built up in my head after that. there's parricide and everything!
also tysm!! 💞💗💖
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alshamswelnahr · 2 months ago
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Genya survives AU
Post-war, Genya struggles with the effects of his almost fatal injury, becoming weaker physically. He uses a wooden cane most of the time and a wheelchair on more challenging days. Along with the physical scars, he has emotional ones, suffering from PTSD and relentless nightmares. He starts living with Sanemi, slowly learning how to coexist. Genya tries to make up for the lost time, aware as well that their remaining time is limited because of the Mark. Their life is full of moments of warmth and gentleness, but it's different from when they were younger, years of separation and one-sided hostility creates an unease between the boys. Sanemi's protectiveness sometimes feels stifling, but Genya keeps his emotions and thoughts regarding it bottled up, fearing damaging their fragile bond. Acting like siblings again is tough and Genya assumes that's natural given all they've been through and their long separation. His body fails him in ways he doesn't share with Sanemi to spare him, and because it is impossible to communicate. Genya finds solace in the Kamado family, though he can’t visit them often due to his physical limitations. When he does, they don't view him with pity, unlike the way Sanemi subtly and silently but noticeably does.
Genya adores Sanemi, and on his good days, he’s grateful for every painful, labored breath because it gives him another chance to be with his brother. Sanemi cooks his favorite meals and ensures he doesn’t strain his body. They have long conversations, not about the past but about many other things. Genya’s heart is full of gratitude, and he often finds himself wanting to reach out and hug his brother. However, on bad days, his body aches and flares, Sanemi feels like a stranger, a mere shadow of the boy he once knew, and he can't help but notice all the scars that cover his body, the tiredness he hides, and the fact that he knows little about him.
Genya would do anything for Sanemi, including giving up his life for him. He craves some personal space. He wants to give Sanemi the world. He is frustrated with his brother's tender words and gentle gestures that fail to ease the pain, yet he knows it’s unfair to direct his anger at his brother.
Every moment alive, next to Sanemi, is a blessing, though life remains difficult. When Genya accidentally mentions one of their younger siblings, Sanemi flinches. Whenever he tries to bring up that night, Sanemi recoils, only responding with, "If you apologize again, I'll smack you in the face." So, Genya avoids the topic of their family and the death of the Hashira, unable to bring himself to ask Sanemi about the way he spent his time after they both went their own way.
He knows Sanemi is there for him, but he fixates on every small shift in his brother's behavior, carefully examining each word and action, fearing that at any moment his brother will leave and never return. A whirlpool grows in his chest, threatening to consume everything, leaving him all alone in the darkness and cold. This feeling eats away at him, reminding him that he was abandoned once, which means it could happen again. He fears that Sanemi might get tired of him, see him for who he really is, and leave. Or worse, his brother might try to spare him from witnessing his suffering from the mark by packing up and running away. When Sanemi’s voice sounds distant or his demeanor becomes cold even slightly, Genya panics, nearly falling to his knees, begging the other to stay.
Desperate to keep his brother close, Genya obeys Sanemi’s every command. They follow the routine advised by the Butterfly girls, walking around the estate daily and eating only healthy steamed food. Genya avoids lifting heavy objects around Sanemi, constantly smiles, and accompanies Sanemi everywhere, avoiding discussions about the Mark or the fear that creeps in late at night. He knows his brother wants happiness for him, so he tries his best to obtain it.
Genya is really grateful for his love and care. Sanemi offers to carry him when he notices him wincing with every step which he refuses every time. Sanemi shapes his life around Genya's needs, goes with him to every medical appointment, pats his head with gentleness, helps him get dressed, adds an extra layer on top of him when it's a chilly night, buys him new clothes, a wheelchair, and even waters his bonsai tree when he forgets. And in the summer, he brings him watermelon every day. Genya is the most spoiled person in the world. His brother's love overwhelms him; it is the weight that suffocates him, it tethers him to reality and stifles him at the same time.
Genya knows his brother doesn't mean to be overbearing. Sanemi tries hard every day. He picks his words carefully and softens his edges. He even sits back at times, allowing Genya to cook a bit, tidy up, or visit friends. Sanemi makes an effort to be nice, asks Genya many questions, and restrains himself from offering help for every single thing. Genya notices the agony in Sanemi's eyes when he's in physical pain and the hurt when he shares something about himself that his older brother doesn't know. He sees the guilt, and the worry too. Sanemi has been caring and looking out for him ever since he was very young, so Genya understands that it won't be easy to stop. He understands, he really does.
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revclver-jesus · 8 months ago
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✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ That question... why did it feel wrong? Sudden, out of place. They've been asking him about the world but that one, something he said shifted their attention to him as a person. And he knows what causes it. They see a way in.
But, the prophet, ever convinced he has nothing to hide and ever repulsed by the thought of shame, simply lowers his cup and does a specific gesture, tapping his wrist with two fingers. " Comes with seeing the chains. " Though its ambiguous whether he's tapping the chain tattoos on his right wrist or his own vein and pulse.
His brow raises slightly, acknowledging what they say right away, almost as if asking them to go on. But in truth he found the start of their explanation amusing. Any ending that is not indefinite is not an ending, it's merely a little rest... But he's not so disappointed that it shows, this is a rather common sentiment his own disciples had to unlearn, so afraid of forever. It did not make this individual any less interesting. And he listens quietly, no clear response given to the younger at first but--
Air cuts softly through barely parted teeth. And now, the god of sleep finally looks awake. Tired eyes, they strain but they widen, quick to look directly at their grinning face. His unnatural persona, the history of evokers, it didn't even matter that this information posed no clear threat, it was the sudden revelation of being so well known in a way that few still alive even did. Silver brow furrowed, he scoffs. " How do you...? "
But he gets his answer. There's a certain... twitch in his deformed soul, as if he could feel Hypnos flinch at the sound of hearing its own name called by another so unexpectedly. He braces a scant hand against the table, but keeps his gilded eyes on them as they slowly narrow into glowing slits. He smirks in the face of a room that felt increasingly tilted in this other being's direction. This feeling, was this divine intervention? Or a deal with the devil? Either way, there's the pitch.
" You want to be of assistance? " He begins with tentative intrigue. " A not unwelcome prospect... Perhaps you can be. But... you'll understand if I'm not yet eager to accept your change myself. After all, you can see my scars, but not what they taught me, is that not so? " His serene smile returns, though not quite, there's a sharpness now. " But, in the war against this cycle... perhaps we do share common battles. "
craving escape — the meaning was similar, but the phrasing alluding to a misalignment in their agendas. louis made no mention of escaping: only breaking the cycle. liberating the chains that bind. he nevertheless smiled that same pleasant and serene smile of his. takaya needn't adhere strictly to his desires. humans were meant to have free will and louis cyphre would never fault them for not following step for step in his footprints.
"do you feel trapped, takaya-san?" he asked with a slight tilt of his head.
it would seem at this point, louis had thoroughly garnered the older man's attention. full and undivided, the pale figure with golden eyes set his supernatural gaze upon louis. had the young man been any normal person, he may have flinched. shied away from the intensity in fear or awe. louis went unphased, except perhaps for a shred of delight - a blossom of pride. with his heart happy, who was he to deny takaya the answers to his questions?
he forewent his drink entirely now, instead clasping his hands together before him atop the table.
"ending a cycle need not mean an indefinite end." he began. he'd seen how some of his other iterations handled their issues, and thought of one such lucifer who had burnt it all to the ground. that wasn't louis' way. "i like this world, takaya-san. i don't harbor any ill will to it's people, either. but even with saying that, i know all too well how complacent humans are. as you said yourself, they shirk away from what they do not understand - clinging to the past, as a child would cling to their mother's leg."
"humans must embrace change, should they ever hope to break free. you," he pointed one finger. "were forcibly changed, and in an imperfect way." the smile on louis' lips curled into something bordering on wicked.
"per. so. na. . ." he brought one hand up to the side of his head, mimicking the shape of a gun. click - went the imaginary trigger.
"god of sleep: hypnos. i can see the shape of your soul, your persona, and it's damaged. you weren't ready to bear it, but here you are nonetheless. if you'd like to see what it is i suggest, i would be happy to show you.
you need only allow me to help you, takaya-san, and you'll witness what change is." and like that, the room was heavy with louis' presence. malignant and awesome, both radiant and dark. it wasn't the same aura as those of persona users, nor that of a shadow; but something more.
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shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years ago
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Hi there! Narcos anon…so sorry! I didn’t realize saw a photo on a moodboard and must’ve gotten confused. Apologies.
Would you consider doing it for Star Wars? Poe Dameron?
bandaging/stitching up an injury
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A/N: Not a problem, it happens. I just like Pedro Pascal's face and thought he'd be great as one of my OCs. Also, thank you. I've missed Poe.
Word Count: 964
There were times you really hated being a medic. Yes you saved lives and were, for the most part, away from the direct fighting, but every now and again one particular soldier would get to you, or in this case, pilot.
Poe Dameron was infuriating. It didn’t matter if he had gotten a cut while fixing his ship or shrapnel stuck in his side, he always gave you that same stupid easy smile promising it wasn’t as bad as it looked.
You were the damn medic. You would decide how bad it was!
What’s worse, he was nice. Cocky sure, but he did listen to you. He also made sure to thank you and give other patients lip if they talked back to you in front of him.
Why did he have to do that? Why couldn’t he just be another hot shot pilot who thought he was all that and a bag of chips? It would make your job so much easier if your heart didn’t squeeze with worry every time he walked through the door or your hands didn’t tremble when you bandaged him up.
You were a professional. You didn’t swoon over men, no matter how charming they were. So why was Poe so different?
“Something on your mind?” Poe asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
You realized, much to your embarrassment, how your hand had paused mid-way through wrapping his arm.
The only explanation he had given for this particular visit was “rough landing”. He hadn’t suffered a concussion, luckily, but he was still pretty banged up. You had patched up pretty much everything else, leaving just this last gash in his arm.
Giving Finn his jacket was a kind gesture and all, but you wished he’d just pick a new one. Leather would at least serve as some protection.
“I’m thinking, you’re lucky I do this out of the goodness of my heart. Otherwise, your visits alone would have paid for an upper apartment of Coruscant by now.”
“Oh c’mon, I’m not that bad.”
You frowned, pointing to one of several scars on his body.
“Crash landing. Blaster fire. Knife wound. And this one is the special variety of “Jess dared me to”. And those are just the ones I can see. I know you’ve got a few more on your ass.”
His face broke out into a wide grin. “You think about my ass?”
You didn’t say anything, instead, tying off the bandage a little harder than necessary, causing him to wince.
“Okay, okay, I deserved that. It was uncalled for.”
“Damn right it was,” you grumbled. “And I don’t want to see you in here for at least another week unless you’re getting something for the pain.”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired of me already,” he teased.
You could feel your cheeks go hot as he shot you that oh so charming smile of his. You covered it with a shake of the head.
“I’ve got other people I gotta look after besides you. I’m not your personal nurse, you know.”
His smile faltered, his expression turning a little sheepish. “I know.”
Your stomach gave a small twist of guilt. “Look just, try to be more careful, will yah? If anything, it'll make my job a lot easier.”
“Fair enough,” he said, and some of the brightness returned to his eyes. “A week is a long time to go without seeing you though.”
Your brow furrowed, as you stared at him. “Commander Dameron, was that your attempt to make a pass at me?”
“That depends, when are you off?”
Your mouth fell open. “What?”
“I would like to know when you’re off shift so I can take you on a date,” he said, slowly so you wouldn’t miss it. “You know, that thing two people do when they like each other and want to get to know the other better? Or…there is a strong case to be made that you don’t like me. In which case, you are a much grumpier person than I thought you were and I misread a ton of signals.“
You shook your head, finally starting to process all the words he had just thrown your way.
“You like me?”
“Yeah,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“A little, yeah,” you admitted.
“Really? I thought I was obvious.”
You shrugged, trying to hide the sudden lightness in your stomach and chest. “Well I guess I’m not as good at reading signals as you are.”
Poe grinned. “So I was right. You do like me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes Dameron, I like you.”
“Yes!” He did a small fist pump only to hiss in pain by the sudden jerky movement.
You couldn’t help but laugh, just a little, before sitting down beside him again to check on the bandage.
“I did say take it easy on this arm,” you reminded.
“Yep, you did,” he groaned. “I might need that thing for the pain a little earlier than I thought.”
You handed him the bottle of pills, making sure he took at least one before helping him off the table.
“I still haven’t gotten an answer on that date,” he said, wincing as he straightened.
“I’m off in three hours. And I’ll only go if you spend that time in your bunk trying to rest up.”
“That I can do,” he promised. He then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “See you in a few.”
You stood frozen, your heart pounding as Poe gave you one final easy smile before walking out the door.
As soon as he was out of sight, you felt able to breathe again. Your head was spinning.
God damn that man.
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago
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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink
Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono
WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings
Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----
Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.
He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.
But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.
This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.
(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)
(His sister only laughs.)
It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.
"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.
"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."
"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.
He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.
"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.
(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)
(They no longer ask.)
"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."
Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"
"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."
He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."
"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."
"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"
"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"
"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."
Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.
She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"
"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.
"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.
"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.
Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.
----
"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."
He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.
"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."
"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.
"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"
"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.
Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.
Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."
Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"
Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"
Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."
----
When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"
"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."
"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"
"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."
Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"
"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."
"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."
Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.
"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."
"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."
Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.
"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."
She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.
The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.
Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.
----
It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.
"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."
Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.
Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"
Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."
Or not.
"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."
That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"
Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.
She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.
"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.
----
When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.
"Time for Shmi?" she asks.
Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."
"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."
"Don't start."
"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."
"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."
"You ended a civil war, sir."
Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.
"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."
"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."
"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."
"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.
"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."
"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.
"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."
"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."
"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."
Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.
She can do it.
It's just annoying.
Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.
----
"Can I see your fonts?"
Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.
"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"
"Mando'a, please."
He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.
She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.
Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.
Half an hour, and then Ben returns.
He points to a font. "This one."
"What's it going to say?"
"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."
"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."
She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.
"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"
"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."
"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."
"That too," she agrees.
When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.
"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."
Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.
He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."
He's such a polite child.
It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.
----
"Hi!"
Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.
That's new.
"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."
"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"
"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"
"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"
"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."
Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"
"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."
"Thank you~!"
----
Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.
----
Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.
His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.
Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.
Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.
"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."
Ben shakes his head. "No way."
"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"
"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.
"No!" both immediately yelp.
She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.
Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.
"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."
"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."
"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"
"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."
"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."
Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"
"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."
"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.
Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.
"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"
"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.
"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.
"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."
"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"
Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.
"No," Ben says.
"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."
It's a neat enough explanation.
It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.
She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.
"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."
Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.
"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."
"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."
"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."
"Is that why you want me to take that route?"
"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."
Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."
"Imagine his face, though."
Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.
"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."
----
Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.
There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.
Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.
"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.
"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."
"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"
"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.
She can almost feel the coming question.
It does not come from the human she expects.
"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.
She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"
"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."
"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.
"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."
It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.
"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."
He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.
Ben mimics his father.
----
She gets to attend the wedding, months later.
The food is very, very good.
(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)
(So does Shmi.)
(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)
----
"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"
Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.
"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.
Or until she gets bored.
"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"
They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.
At great volume.
(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)
"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."
"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."
"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."
"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."
Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"
"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"
"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."
"Ehhhh..."
Nope.
Not paying attention.
----
"These are House Kryze colors."
Ylliben's breath hitches.
He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.
"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.
"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."
Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.
"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?
"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."
"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."
Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.
They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.
"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"
"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.
She does not ask further.
----
"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."
Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.
Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...
"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.
"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."
"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."
Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.
"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."
She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."
"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"
"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."
"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"
Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."
"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"
Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.
"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."
Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"
"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.
"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"
"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.
----
As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.
(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)
There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.
For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.
Then, the Jedi and his children leave.
(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)
(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)
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lazypeachsoul · 4 years ago
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you promise?
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Request: by anon “Could you write an Osferth drabble. About anything you'd like. Please and thank you.”
Warnings: Nothing.
Word count: 1,8k
A/N: Here's the first fic for The Last Kingdom Week! Hope you enjoy some sweet baby monk. I might have gone overboard with this story, but I can't help it when it comes to osferth. Enjoy 🌼
The streets of Cookham were bustling with workers returning home from the fields that surrounded the village. Thanks to Lord Uhtred and his fame the once forgotten town had become a stop for every merchant that traveled through Wessex and the workload had increased. And you were no different than any of those other people.
The sun was now setting and it was your time to return the children you minded back to their homes, where their overworked parents would take care of them. It wasn’t normal for common workers to have child minders, normally leaving the kids at home with their mothers, but Cookham was busier than ever and women were working the fields too. And that left you to take care of the little rascals that lived in town.
You had tried to work as a seamstress and at the alehouse, but nothing seemed to really suit you. Well, at least until you started taking care of the kids. You didn’t get much pay since the people you worked for were underpaid to begin with, but the little you got you saved for a new fabric, or a sweet treat or for those times you would meet Osferth at the alehouse and you wanted to prove him that you were a hard working woman.
And how you loved those times. Osferth seemed to always be busy either training or meeting with the rest of what had now been named the “Cookham squad”. Lord Uhtred and his loyal warriors were the talk of all Wessex and a great source of gossip for the entire town. Lord Uhtred and his beautiful wife Gisela took care of the people that lived inside their walls. Then there was Finan, the loud irishman who seemed to bring joy and fun to any occasion celebrated, always close to him was Sihtric, the mysterious dane who didn’t speak much but said a lot with just a look. And the last one was the monk who is not really a monk Osferth.
When you first met him you were trying to learn to become a barmaid and accidentally tripped on his foot, sending a pitcher of ale flying everywhere and leaving you both embarrassed and asking for mutual forgiveness. Since that moment, you had started to meet together at the alehouse every few days, providing you with a nice friendship but keeping all the rules a respectable young unmarried woman should follow.
And that’s exactly where you were headed after dropping your last child at home with his grateful mother. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the familiar blonde mop of hair sitting on one of the outside benches, and you had to admit to yourself that maybe it was more than just casual meetings at the alehouse. At that moment Osferth turned around and waved in your direction and with a small wave you made your way to the bench, sitting in front of him.
“I thought you didn’t see me, you looked distracted.” Osferth's sweet voice spoke and you had to admit he was right, you almost missed it because of your constant daydreaming about the man. But you couldn’t admit that.
“Excuse me, the children were wild and I’m extremely tired. Must be because of the nice weather.”
“Maybe we should meet another day, I wouldn’t want to tire you more Lady-” “No!”
You hadn’t been able to stop the agitated answer from coming out when you heard his dismissal. You were tired but never too tired to stop meeting Osferth. You could feel your cheeks hot with embarrassment and you tried to clear your throat to diffuse the tension.
“I mean, I would rather stay here with you and relax with a friend.”
Osferth’s face seemed to harden at your words but as soon as the barmaid brought you two cups of ale everything seemed to go back to normal, except for a small curious voice at the back of your head wanting to know why the expression changed.
“A friend. Of course. I enjoy the time we spend together too.” He nodded his head, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes before taking a sip from his cup. “The weather is really nice so I wouldn’t blame the children. Lord Uhtred told us that the weather would turn nicer before we leave.”
You felt the ale you had been drinking get stuck in your throat but you tried to conceal it with a soft cough so as to not cause a scene in the packed alehouse. Leave? They were leaving?
“Are you leaving soon? You didn’t say anything before.”
“Lord Uhtred just confirmed it this morning. The King has requested the Lord’s help in some negotiations with the danes. He thought it best for us to accompany him since his history with the king is not the most amicable.”
You nodded along as he spoke but your brain was overworking itself trying to comprehend the situation. They were leaving to assist the King of Wessex and they would leave Cookham unattended for God knows how long. Of course the real reason you were worried was not the village, Lady Gisela could take care of it and more without a problem, you were worried about Osferth and you. Was there even an 'Osferth and you' to worry about?
“That’s...great that the King and our Lord are speaking again. Maybe it might help us get resources from the crown.” You tried to excuse your previous silence but it must have been obvious you were deep in thought because Osferth looked at you with a curious face. “And when are you leaving?”
“We’re expected to depart tomorrow morning. Apparently those matters are very important and require us to be there as soon as possible.” He shrugged in a move to downplay the entire situation.
Silence was the only thing that could be heard from your side of the bench, a deep contrast from the rest of the groups happily chatting and drinking. The table was silent but your mind was not, still overthinking every word your companion had said. You were overthinking so much that you almost missed his quiet voice.
“I am going to miss you.” Osferth spoke and as soon as you looked at him again he seemed to flush. “And our conversations. Or friendly conversations as...friends.”
You wanted to laugh at the poor man in front of you. In the many months you had known Osferth you had never seen him that flustered in his life, cheeks and ears bright red and a stuttering mess.
“I’m going to miss you too Osferth. And our friendly meetings.” You placed your hand next to his on the table next to his, not wanting to overstep and make the poor man more uncomfortable.
He moved his hand carefully almost imperceptibly until his fingers touched yours and a warm feeling ran down your entire arm from your hand. He seemed to be the one deep in thought at the moment and you almost wished you could pick at his brain to see what was going on. Is that how he felt every time you zoned out?
“Maybe you could remember me-” “Of course I’m going to remember you Osferth, don’t be silly. You are not going to war, only a mission for the king.”
A nervous chuckle was the only thing he could let out now and his reactions were starting to worry you a bit. If it was only a small trip he shouldn't have been that nervous.
“Let me finish. Maybe if I gave you something that you could remember me by, it would be easier.”
“You don’t have to do that, Osferth. I will remember you anyways.” You tried to reason with him but you couldn’t stop him from moving to look for something in the pockets of his robes.
After a bit of fussing with the robes he placed his closed fist on top of your hand, opening it just enough for something small and metallic to fall into your hand. Moving your hand closer you found a small fragile chain that seemed to have been at least as old as you.
“It’s not much, just a scrap of metal if you try to sell it. But it was my mother’s, the only thing I have from her. I hid it from the monks when I was growing up so they wouldn’t take it away. Carried it into battle with me every time I’ve fought too.”
Every single word of the explanation seemed to make your throat close a bit more and your eyes glossier. You knew Osferth had no real memories with his mother and you could imagine how important that bracelet must have been for him.
“I can’t accept it, it’s so important to you. Why would you give it to me?” You debated with your head shaking and trying to push the chain into his hand again. “Don’t be silly, Osferth. It’s your mother’s bracelet.”
“You must keep it. Please.” He kept his fist tightly closed to avoid you giving him back the piece of jewelry. “I want you to have it.”
“But I don’t have anything to give you in return.”
You kept trying to pry his fist open, all in vain because he wouldn’t even budge. You wanted to get up and hug him for such a meaningful gesture and hit him at the same time for wanting to part with such a meaningful piece.
“You have.” He spoke, grabbing your hand and halting your movements. “Maybe you can give me your promise.”
You looked at him curiously at what his proposal might be. Maybe he just wanted you to take care of Lady Gisela, you knew how he saw her as the mother he never had. Or maybe he wanted you to care for Lord Uhtred’s children.
“You can promise me that once I’m back from Wincester you will allow me to properly court you.” He explained and you felt your heart stop. “I-If you want, of course.”
Courting Osferth was not something you had thought about, mainly because you had nothing to offer. Your parents didn’t have fields or many resources they could offer a prospective husband. And Osferth was a warrior, so you thought settling down seemed to be out of the picture for him. But you had to admit the idea made your stomach turn in the best way possible.
You realized you had been thinking for a long time and still hadn’t given an answer when you felt him squeezing your hand. Could you promise him something like that?
“I promise.” Of course you could, the idea of a lifetime with Osferth only made you more excited about life. “Only you have to promise me to come back soon.”
He nodded with enthusiasm, moving his hands to take the small chain from your delicate hand and clasp it around your wrist. This mission hadn’t even started and you already wanted it to end.
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Taglist: @webreathfandoms @thebohemianpenguin @emilyhufflepufftlk @solinarimoon
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thestarrynightslover · 4 years ago
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I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 1
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Word count: 3,666
Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, and drug abuse. 
Summary: What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone?
You can find Part 2 here.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: So, this is my first Harvey Specter fic and I’m obviously quite unsure about it, lol. This might’ve ended up like one big mess, cause I tried to combine a bunch of Harveys I wanted to see. The perfect recipe for disaster, right? Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
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You’d barely stepped out of the elevator when you were met by your secretary that morning. That couldn’t mean anything good.
“Morning, (y/n/n). You’ve got an emergency meeting with Jessica today. Gonna give you the schedule on the way there.” Lucy stated, leading you on the opposite way to Jessica’s office.
“Oh, I got the memo; company’s under attack again. She wants me on the frontlines this time. Louis is probably running around saying ‘We’re at war, people, war!!!’, or something like that. But why aren’t we headed towards the boss’ office?”
“Apparently, uh, she wants y’all to convey at Harvey’s office.” She said hesitantly, as if afraid of your reaction.
“Are you kidding me? It’s the first hour of the morning and she wants me to go see that smug face of his?” You pouted childishly.
“Smug and hot, you mean.” Lucy corrected you, getting an outraged look from you in response, as she usually would by saying anything positive about Specter.
“Shush,” You said, motioning for her to stop talking, “ one shall not praise Harvey Annoying Specter around me.” You stated full of obstination, but the younger woman just laughed you off and said:
“Well, here we are. I guess I’ll just have to send you an e-mail with your schedule, since, once again, we spent our schedule minutes of the day talking about “the enemy”.” She mocked with gestures and everything this time. That Lucy really was a piece of work, she timed the whole thing perfectly, in a way that you couldn’t even repudiate her insinuations because you were already standing in front of Specter’s office door.
Not long after you had entered and Jessica had officially started the strategy-meeting, though, all eyes in the room turned to you, as your phone started ringing in your back pocket. "Shit! I'm- I'm so sorry, guys, I guess I-"
"Can you please take your job seriously for once in your life, (y/l/n)?" You heard Harvey Pain-In-The-Ass Specter rudely remark, as you tried to swallow your embarrassment.
“Well, like I was trying to say, I’m sorry. Gonna turn it off right now, won’t happen again.” You said, directing your apologetic look to Jessica.
“You should just go ahead and answer it, could be something important.” She calmly told you.
“Especially now that you’ve already interrupted our work.” Specter chipped in again, which just gave you more fuel to answer the goddamn phone.
“Hello, yeah this is her.” You confirmed to the man on the phone, while taking a few steps towards the corner of the room. “What??? Are you sure? Oh my God! O- okay, just tell me which one and I’ll be there as soon as possible! Right, thank you.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to understand what made you look so distressed. Except his, of course.
“Wait a second. Are you leaving right now?” He asked with a mix of annoyance and irritation in his voice.
“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jessica, but this is a family emergency. I have to go.”
“Well, I just hope you know that this doesn’t look good for you, (y/n).” She said, voice inexpressive.
“I do and, honestly? I couldn’t care less about that right now.” You firmly told her, while hoping your career wasn’t over by the next morning.
“I hope everything goes well for you and your family, (y/n). If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” Louis told you with that childish smile of his. Jesus, even in a moment like this, he tried to flirt with you.
“Thank you, Louis. That’s very kind.” You faked a tiny smile.
“Unbelievable.” 
“What?” You asked, turning back to face Harvey.
“Your firm is under attack and you’re leaving because of some stupid family crap?” Was he even serious?
“Precisely. And I don’t really care what your thoughts are on it. Our priorities are clearly very different.” Who the hell did he think he was to say anything about your family’s issues?
“Well, that shouldn’t matter because, the minute you walk in here, through those elevators out there, you’re supposed to leave all things personal behind.”
“Oh, right. I’m so sorry that I’m not some heartless lawyer like you, who’s just in it for the petty fights in the name of money-making.” Shit. You needed to get the hell out of there before you said something else to make Specter wanna kick you out himself. So you did. Stormed out like there was no tomorrow, leaving nothing but the very shocked Donna, Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Rachel behind. Oh, yeah, and a very pissed-off Harvey Specter.
Okay, maybe you were a little too harsh, but given the place you needed to go, to do what you needed to do, you didn't care about Harvey, your job, or anything else.
---
It was much later on that same day, around dinner time, that you heard a soft knock on your door. But how could someone be at your door, if the doorman downstairs hadn't announced any visitors? Were you dreaming? Well, the day had been so tiring that that wasn't exactly impossible… Nonetheless, you made your way to the door, whilst holding your very needy three-year-old nephew in your arms. Not that you could blame Henry after the day he’d had.
Since you weren’t expecting anyone, it was reasonable to believe that, whoever it was, was going to be a surprise. But not in a million years would have you ever guessed that Harvey Specter was the one knocking at your door. Especially considering what had happened at the firm earlier. How did he even know your address?
“Hi, (y/l/n). I didn’t know you had a kid.” He stated with a bit of surprise of his own, pointing to the little boy you were carrying.
“No, uh, I don’t have any.” You managed to say, trying to control your shocked expression. “This is my nephew.” You clarified again, a little more at ease this time.
“My name’s Henry. What’s yours?” You heard your nephew ask with his cute child-voice.
“Harvey. It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Harvey told the boy, holding out his hand for him to shake, as a sweet smile came to his lips.
“Is he your friend, auntie (y/n/n)?” Henry asked you hesitantly, before making a move. The Don’t Talk to Strangers Rule must’ve kicked in his mind. 
Before answering him, you hesitated a little bit yourself, though. Was Harvey your friend? Obviously not, but if he came to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, it was probably because of something important. Work-related, of course. Which meant you’d have to let him in, so you settled for what would be the easiest classification for a three-year-old.
“Yeah, bud, he is my friend from work.” Hearing that, something in Specter’s eyes changed, you didn’t really know what, though.
“Well, then, can he come play with us?” He gave you such a cute look, that you almost said yes right on cue. But you obviously couldn’t. 
“You’d have to ask him, but I’m sure he has a lot of other, more important, things to do now.” You tried to explain to the little boy, giving Harvey a look. But you didn’t get too far, as the lawyer quickly said:
“Of course I wanna go play with you! That is if your auntie’s okay with that…” Now he was mocking you, that was the only explanation.
“Can we play with him, then, auntie (y/n/n)? Please, please, please?” God, what horrible thing could’ve you possibly done to deserve this particular punishment?
“Um, I guess... If he really has nothing better to do-” Harvey didn’t even let you finish your sentence.
“I really don’t.” He said, shooting you and Henry a bright smile that you’d never seen before.
“Okay, then, come in. Please disregard the mess, I got this stuff to make dinner, but someone just won’t detach, right, mister?” You asked your nephew with fake annoyance in your voice, as you tickled his sides a little bit. He just laughed at you. Though what really caught your attention was the fact that Harvey, too, was chuckling lightly at the scene, as he started picking up your groceries’ bags from the floor. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you, what else?” You gave him a weird look because, well, it was a weird situation. Maybe he noticed your discomfort because he added: “You look tired, so I’ll help you by making dinner and putting the rest of these away.”
“You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell that the All-Mighty Harvey Specter was gonna get domestic for you, of all people. Since he didn’t bother to answer, you went on: “First of all, what was it that you really came here to do, hum? And, second, I don’t need your help with anything.” Normally you tried to be kind to everyone, but, then again, Specter wasn’t exactly your normal kind of guy.
“Well, first of all,” he started in a tone of mockery, “that was rude! Look at the example you’re setting for little Henry!” Oh God, as much as you hated to admit it, he was kinda right, because you had completely forgotten about the little boy still cradled in your arms. “Second, we can talk about the reason why I came here later,” after your nephew’s asleep, was implicit in his speech, “third, it looks like you do need some help. And, for your luck, I happen to be a very good cook when I want to.”
“But-” You could barely begin your sentence, as Harvey sharply cut you off:
“You see, buddy,” he started, motioning to Henry this time, “the quicker we get your auntie on board with the game plan, the quicker we’ll get to eat and go play together!” Son of a bitch! Using a child to get to you…
“Can we please, auntie? Please?” How could you not crack after that pleading?
“Fine, but I swear I’ll make you pay if we wake up with food poisoning tomorrow, Specter.” You told him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all of your bluntness.
“Oh, trust me, (y/l/n), you won’t. This will be the best meal you and the young man here will ever have in your entire lives.” He said cockily, but without the usual arrogance level, if that even makes sense.
A few hours and a really great dinner later, you and Henry couldn’t help but snicker shamelessly at Harvey’s ridiculous faces, as the three of you played a game on your living room’s floor. Trying to catch your breath from your giggles, you glanced up at the clock and realized that it was way too late for your nephew to be out of bed like that. So you broke up the game, announcing:
“It’s bedtime for you, Mr. Henry.” You watched the faces of the pair turn into ones of pure disappointment, as they prepared to pout.
“Just a little longer, auntie (y/n/n)! please!” The little boy started.
“Yeah, auntie, just a little longer! Please?” This time it was the grown man, one of the toughest Wall Street lawyers.
“As moved as I am by your synchrony, guys, the answer is a big no. C’mon, bud, let’s go brush your teeth. And then straight to bed. So say bye to Harvey, and thank him for being so nice to us tonight.” He looked between you and Specter as if still hoping for a hail Mary of some sort.
“Bye, Harvey.” He sounded so sad, but then he smiled brightly again, as he repeated what you’d told him to say word by word: “And thank you for being so nice to us tonight.” Hearing that, both you and Harvey chuckled lightly at the young boy, who quickly added: “Will you come see us tomorrow too?”
“Uh, we’ll, uh, we’ll see about that, okay, little man?” He tried to let Henry down slowly but, watching the boy’s expression become a sad one instantly, he added: “It’s just because both your auntie and I have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I’ll do my best, okay?” That was definitely a side of Harvey you’d never seen before, he had even bent down to be on your nephew’s level.
“Okay.” Henry said quietly, seeming to be a little happier, too.
“Okay, then let’s just go upstairs already.” You took the boy’s hand to guide him towards the spare bedroom’s bathroom, all the while shooting Specter a look that told him to wait for you a little longer.
“I’ll wait for you down here.” He said, proving he understood what your eyes tried to transmit.
So you headed upstairs with your nephew and, after a good fifteen minutes of brushing Henry’s teeth, helping him into his PJs, and tucking him in, you finally managed to come back to the living room, where you found Harvey looking through some of your photos displayed on the sideboard. For a minute or two, you just watched him. It wasn’t that you liked what you saw or anything. It wasn’t. It was more like postponing the weird conversation you two were bound to have, because, after all that had happened in those few hours, the atmosphere was, at very least, a strange one. But, almost as if he’d felt your gaze on his back, the lawyer in him was switched on, and he interrupted your thoughts by saying:
“Ah, you’re back. Good, because we need to talk.” You just motioned for him to follow you into your home office. But both you and Harvey looked so informal to be in that kind of environment, that you just indicated the small couch on the wall opposite to your desk for you to take your seats in.
“So, uh, before you even say anything, I wanna thank you for being so kind tonight,” a small smile came to your lips, as you remembered, not only the evening but how your nephew had used almost those exact same words, already imitating you, a little earlier. Specter smiled too, you noticed. “and I also wanna apologize. If you came here to talk to me… I must’ve made you waste a lot of time, huh?” You tried with a half-smile this time, as embarrassment started taking over you.
“What? No, of course not! I'm pretty sure that I told you I didn't have anything better to do, didn't I?" He calmly asked with a smile.
"Yeah, but I'm not buying it. You're Harvey Specter, isn't that what you're always saying? And Harvey Specter always has something better to do, isn't that right?" You shot back in a mockery tone, regaining your confidence.
"Well, maybe. But, not today. So don't apologize, and don't thank me. I'm the one who should be thanking you, I had a really good time tonight." Okay, now you were shocked. He had a good time?
"Uh, okay, um, so... What was so urgent that you had to come here in the middle of the night?" You nervously ranted, while tugging your hair behind your ears. He just stared at you, so much so that you almost repeated your question.
"Um, yeah, about this morning… That's why I came here…" You were already guessing that that would come up eventually, but it was the topic of your conversation? "I know that you and I always had our differences, and maybe even some rivalry-"
"Some rivalry? Dude, I'm just a junior partner, and ever since I started on that firm you've been persecuting me-"
"I wouldn't say persecuting…"
"Oh, you wouldn't?"
"Not since you made junior partner anyways. Now it's just a healthy rivalry between work friends…" He tried to use what you’d told your nephew earlier. 
"Oh, so you do admit you were persecuting me when I was an associate, huh?"
"Shit." He muttered quietly, as you watched him with a victory smile on your lips. "You know what? Hell yeah, I did persecute you when you were an associate." Hearing that blunt admission of guilt, you just couldn't find anything to say. “You wanna know why? I did that because, from the first time I saw you doing your job, I saw this very thing that I see now: you kicking ass, you think I wanted to admit this to you? I’ll answer it myself: no, I didn’t. The only reason why it happened is that you led me to it.” He blurted out, completely knocking you off your socks.
“So, um, you treated, you treat me like shit because, um, because I’m good?” You asked, still unsure of what to think about his confession.
“Well, that was part of it, sure. So, you see, I could understand it when you weren’t particularly thrilled at the perspective of working with me. But, this morning, you said that I’m a heartless guy who only cares about money… Is that really what you think of me?” This time he sounded genuinely sad? When Harvey said that he’d come to your apartment to talk about that morning, you thought he was gonna reprimand the shit out of you for disrespecting him ⎯ your sort of boss, a senior partner ⎯, but, apparently, he was asking about it on a more personal level. A level you’d never really thought played a part in your relationship with him.
“Oh, Harvey…”
“Be honest, please. I don’t want your pity. You don’t even know me all that well, so don’t try to minimize anything. I can take it.”
“That’s not what I was gonna do. And, trust me, you’re probably the last person in the world I’d pity.” You told him with a sly smile. “You’re right. I don’t know you all that well. Or, at least, I didn’t this morning. But I do know that you’re not heartless. Also, I was really out of line then, I’ve seen you fighting tooth and nail for a lot more than just money in that firm. You’re loyal to your firm and friends like no one else and, tonight, I watched you sitting on the floor and playing with a little boy. And, trust me, that meant more to him than you’d ever know, especially after today… Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is that I was so damn wrong and that I’m sorry. I’d gotten some pretty nerve-racking news beforehand, not that that’s an excuse but...” You told him, meaning every word and trying hard to show how much you regretted your previous actions.
“Wait, what news?”
“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about, really.” You tried to brush him off.
“Oh, c’mon! You said all those nice things about me, but when it comes to your life and your problems you still don’t trust me, isn’t that right?” His tone was sharply inexpressive, but his eyes showed he was actually hurt.
“What are you talking about? Oh my God, Harvey! I’ve relied on you for a number of cases that I really cared about! I let you in on my apartment! I let you spend an entire night around my nephew! Of course, I trust you!”
“Then what the hell is the problem? You think I’m not gonna give a damn about your family issues? Is that it? Because I am literally begging you to tell me about them!”
“I don’t wanna tell you because I don’t want you, or anyone else on the firm, to think that I’m some pathetic little girl who uses her family issues as an excuse to get out of a tough fight.” You confessed in a lower tone, slightly embarrassed, just hoping he would understand and stop poking. “Things are very different when you’re a woman, you know…”
“I would never think that about you. Family is important. Especially if it’s made of people like Henry…” He said, reassuring you, even though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Besides, you said you trust me, so you need to trust me when I say that I wouldn’t betray you by telling people about your problems. I’m not here as your boss, (y/n). I just wanna help you.” He sounded so sincere and, if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda really needed to vent.
“Okay, um, where to start? I have two sisters: Henry’s mother, Kat, and a fifteen-year-old, Lisa. I’m the older one of all three of us. Lisa’s sick, like very sick, so my parents, who are both retired, are with her at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, to try and get her better. In the meantime, Kat was supposed to go to college, as well as care for her son, between my parents and me, she wouldn’t even need to provide for them or anything. But, a while ago, she overdosed for the first time. That’s when we found out about her addiction. We’ve already tried a million different things but nothing works. So, my parents and I threatened to make her lose her parental rights over Henry, hoping that it’d be a wake-up call for her, but it backfired. She just took the boy and disappeared, then today I get that call, from the police department, saying that she was in custody for drug distribution and endangering the well-fare of a minor. They asked me to go pick my nephew and, maybe, get Kat a lawyer.” And, just like that, you’d told Harvey Specter, of all people, everything. Tears rolling down your cheeks and him pulling you into a hug.
If anyone had told you that that was how your night was gonna go, you would have definitely laughed them out of the room. But now, just sitting there, being held and caressed by Harvey, as you let your armor down, it was finally beginning to look like things were gonna be okay. 
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killerskillercaptain · 3 years ago
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Applause
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pairing : Levi Ackerman x Reader
wc : 1.8 k
themes : the ceremony honoring Levi's squad (including you) after the reclaim of Shiganshina went wrong, angst, hurt, comfort.
warnings : angst and hate
A soft light drenched your silhouette standing in front of the mirror. Inspecting yourself, you flatted out any crease on your long army jacket while arranging the collar of your shirt. You stood there staring at the image reflected to you : you looked put together, but your face still reminded you of everything that happened just days ago. Retaking Shiganshina didn't feel like a victory at all. With all that was lost, there was no praise, no glory, no nothing, only a bitter sweet sense of accomplishment, more torturing than satisfying.
You looked at the bags under your eyes, at the cuts lacerating the side of your face, even though you've been granted enough sleep and medical care to recover, you were still exhausted, and you could still see that dark cloud veiling your eyes, images of hell still flashing in front of you.
You heard a small knock on the door of the quarters you have been assigned to. It was time to go, the ceremony was about to start.
You shouted a weak but audible "yes" before heading out of the room. When you opened the wooden door , you were met by two even more tired eyes.
Levi
"They're waiting for us"
You walked side by side in the sumptuous corridors, you were in the capital and inside this part of the walls, everything looked so lavish that you felt out of place. You didn't exchange any word for a long moment until Levi broke the silence by asking if you were able to rest.
"Not really no"
By the way he stayed silence after you answered his question, you understood that it was the same for him.
The reason you weren't able to rest was the anticipation, no, the dread you felt in regards to this ceremony. With the suicidal charge Erwin commended causing the death of so many soldiers, both young and older ones, all of you who had survived this, felt sick to your stomach, you were all eaten by a sentiment that vastly resembled guilt. You, the rest of Levi's squad and Levi himself being the ones always coming back alive started to sound like a bad sonata to the ears of the population, they would rather see their sons, daughters, cousins and husbands coming back rather then the ones who always manages to make it, so eventually, you were expecting the worst to come out of this ceremony, and you felt that this honoring event was gonna put you all on an unwelcoming spotlight.
Approaching the great doors of the ceremonial chamber, all of you hesitated to to enter as the guards invited you in.
-----
You were totally right, the moment the heavy and palatial looking doors opened to welcome you, you were met by very concerned looks. Soldiers and other various members as well as government big heads were undressing you with disapprobation, you felt your heart tighten, all of you already felt horrible enough that you cursed those blaming looks for adding more weight to your already busted shoulders.
Levi's name was called first to be given his medal, impassive as usual, Levi climbed up the stairs to where Historia stood solemnly, each one of his steps followed by a horrible comment directed at him, sometimes in a low voice, sometimes not.
"How come they're always the one coming back"
"Yeah, nothing ever happens to them how come ?"
"I bet they throw the young recruits and the less competent ones right into the titans mouths so they can protect their lives"
"I guess they don't put their lives on the line so much to be able to always come back in one piece".
"This is Levi, he can take on anything, heh, must be nice to be invincible"
Some of the comments being whispered were down right nasty and they were all directed to Levi.
Of all the people, the captain was the one to whom was directed the messiest of remarks. Everyone knew he was the strongest soldier alive, and they hated him for this exact same reason.
Seeing how Levi manages to stay composed and be able to dismiss these comments made your heart ache, you realized he must have heard them so many times to be able to ignore them like this. You knew the captain, you knew that he actually cared but had to learn not to, you felt bad realizing that this became familiar to him.
You felt so bad for the fallen ones, your heart was still mourning them to this instant but you couldn't possibly describe how gut wrenching you felt seeing Levi having to bear all the weight of the culpability people unrightfully put on him.
You clenched your fists, closed your eyes and told yourself that it was going to pass, like all the other times.
You haven't been this targeted by hate yourself, but now you were put on this unwanted pedestal and everyone could see who were the usual lucky ones, and you could feel yourself being put on the the condemning spot as it was your turn to be called and climb those cursed stairs.
You kneeled before Historia, feeling her hands ghost over your head as she put and secured the medal around your neck, repeating the same careful but solemn gestures for the second time.
"They don't deserve the medals !" shouted a particularly angry red haired youngster.
More whispers could be heard now from different parts of the ceremonial room, enough to fill the spacious chamber. Small groups started forming, their chatter was now all you could distinguish. Some were agreeing while others were quizzical, you could hear the people's subtle judgements but all you could feel was your hands becoming sweaty and an incredibly uncomfortable heat, filling your head. You already felt bad enough, you already felt undeserving enough, you already felt guilty enough, why did they have to be so-
do they not know what war is like ?
"This Arlert recruit shouldn't have been the one to be saved ! Levi's duty should have been to keep the commander alive !" spat the red-haired young man, emotion seemingly making his blood boil.
You could only stand where you were at the top of the stairs, looking at this seemingly unsatisfied and outraged human, making you doubt every single choice you made back there, you wrapped your hand over the medal holding it tightly, trying to ground yourself.
"Enough !"
It was Levi who spoke this time, putting a hand over the boy's shoulder, understanding yet firm enough for the young soldier to turn around and face the shorter man.
"A lot of tough decisions had to be made back there, if there's anyone who wants Erwin to be present with us today more than anyone, it's me."
You felt yourself trembling listening to the captain instill some sense of understanding to the soldier who seemed to try and contain his rage, even if he didn't look convinced with Levi's words. He seemed to have already judged you all as guilty.
"It wasn't an easy choice to choose Armin, it was an even harder decision to let Erwin go, but his woman out there, you say she doesn't deserve that medal, maybe, maybe none of us do, but she and all the others faced hell back in Shiganshina and had to make the toughest of choices. You're still young, but if you ever make it, you will be met with the same inconceivable decisions we did, so the least you could do is show some respect."
Levi ended his speech with a firm tone that made everyone observe a ponderous silence and just like that, every person in the room understood that the talk was over.
Soon everyone made their way to the great halls, you were informed by some subordinates that honorary soldiers would be awaited at the great dinning hall, this news made Jean and Connie start chatting vigorously about how this was the least they could do for them, both of them trying to cheer Armin up, the poor boy looked beaten down and quite affected by the guilt tripping going on in there some minutes ago.
He wasn't the only one affected by what happened in the ceremonial room, you were still trying to calm your beating heart and your pounding head, still feeling quite light-headed. The crowd, the heat, the mischievous and unforgiving gossiping, even though the ceremonial chamber was one of the largest space you've seen, you felt almost claustrophobic in there, surrounded by so many people who blamed you all for getting a chance to live longer. Your already blood-shot eyes were all watery, they stared watering when the ceremony got interrupted and you could swear Levi noticed it when you were heading towards the halls because he kept looking at you directly
"I'll be back, i'll go breathe some fresh air outside" you waved at Jean, Connie, Armin and the others, Levi had long disappeared from your view and you didn't see which direction he went so you assumed he was with Hange.
You turned around and took the opposite direction of the hall, where there were two massive gates. They were opened on an incredibly well maintained garden. When you sat foot on the marbled path you were met with gigantic and well kept trees, all sorts of trees, with even more gigantic walls guarding the property. Each wall had an impressive amount of lush greenery drapped all over them.
You walked to the wall that was the further away from the gates and stood there, your back against it. And right there, once you were sure no one would observe you, you let it all out. Within seconds, you felt heavy damp pearls making their way through your burning cheeks before landing everywhere, your shirt, your jacket, your leather boots, the soil beneath you. You weeped silently, your head suddenly empty from being too crammed seconds ago. You were ready to weep some more if it wasn't for a light touch that brushed you.
Levi was standing by your side looking at your burnt cheeks, swollen lips and red eyes.
"Don't let it get to you" he said.
"Your guilt doesn't justify their anger" he added, resting against the wall. "Yes they're angry, that's what wars do, they stir anger, pain and resentment. Everything humans don't like to be reminded of"
"Let's honor their death with the decisions we will make" he added putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, at which your heart fluttered a bit to your own surprise.
He pushed himself off the wall, hands in his pockets and headed for the gates as the familiar smell of food being cooked started filling the air, only here, even the food smelled expensive. You followed Levi into the hall, walking by his side as he silently invited you to. Heading for the dinning hall, you felt a great amount of solace being in his presence, and right now, he would never know how thankful you were to have each other's shoulders to lean on when the whole world was up against you two.
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writersrealmbts · 3 years ago
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Clearwater Springs: Part 9
SDescription: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.
Warnings: idk
Posted: 08/18/2021
Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, soulmate au
3,463 words
A/N: Okay! Remember, two free-write and one survey chapter, which means the next survey chapter will be chapter 11 (technically they all are at this point), which means that the survey at the bottom of this post will be on part 10 as well. Sorry for the wait.
Previous ~ Next
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You were in a warm cocoon, and you weren’t about to disturb it.
Yoongi was in cat form again, stretched out against your back, purring now and then in his sleep.
Namjoon was snoring, but you didn’t care because he was warm and his heartbeat was strong, and he was well-built. Strong enough to make you feel safe, soft enough to keep you comfortable. He was your haltija.
You lay in a comfortable doze for a while, smiling when Yoongi moved so you could pet him and he fell asleep again.
But then someone was sneaking in and over, fluttering above the ground and peering at you.
You yawned a bit, then turned to reach out both hands to him.
Jimin smiled and took your hands, gently pulling you from between the other two and into the air.
You grinned as he set you down on the floor by the bed, admiring his wings. His feathers looked shinier already, and the colors of his feathers seemed more vibrant. Happiness made such a difference in fairies.
Jimin tugged your hand gently, pulling you out of the room and down to Jin’s room.
The door swung open silently, revealing the most adorable sight of Jin and Jungkook cuddling. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around Jin, and head on Jin’s shoulder but still tucked close to Jin’s neck. Both of them looked so peaceful.
Jimin shared your smile, then tugged your hand again as he carefully closed the door.
Taehyung was being bearhugged from behind by Hoseok, drowsily watching some cartoon show that had the volume down as low as possible without muting it.
Hoseok murmured now and then, and pressed airy little kisses just barely into Taehyung’s hair--probably completely unfelt by the dryad. But he glanced over and smiled contentedly at you before whispering something that got a sleepy smile out of his companion.
You tugged on Jimin’s hand this time, drawing him into the kitchen. “Help me make them breakfast?”
He nodded.
You weren’t an exceptional cook, but you could make basic foods, and the boys didn’t seem to mind basic foods. “Did you sleep well, ma mignonne?”
He nodded emphatically. “Yesterday was tiring.”
Yoongi stalked in, scowling tiredly at you. “You left.”
“Sorry, mon chat minou,” You apologized, leaning over to peck his lips.
His eyes widened.
Jimin huffed, latching onto you again.
You leaned back into his arms and tilted your head back for a kiss.
He hesitated, but did kiss you—softly. As though you were a bubble that would pop at any moment. His lips soft against yours.
You brushed his cheek with your fingertips, keenly away of two more sets of eyes on the three of you.
Hoseok, probably already knowing the outcome, came over and claimed his kiss. “Morning, aluemdaun.”
You hummed happily at his casual compliment, curling your fingers around the neckline of his shirt. “Darling.”
Taehyung’s eyes were wide, and he slowly came forward.
You watched him with a soft smile. “Good morning, Taehyung. Did you sleep well?”
Taehyung nodded slowly.
You kissed his cheek, brushing over the spot where you kissed him with your thumb as you looked over his face. “Good.”
“So...does everyone know...about….” He gestured vaguely to your arm.
You nodded, smiling a little more. “Everyone knows. You can ask them anything about being soulmates that you want. You can touch them, hug them, kiss them, and they’ll have no room to complain because they’re stuck with all of us for the rest of our lives—provided all goes well.”
Taehyung started to get hints of excitement in his eyes. “Hugs?”
“As many as you like. Jimin gives especially good hugs.” You nodded toward the fairy, who was still cooking under your instructions.
Yoongi took Taehyung’s hand. “After we’re out of their way so they can make breakfast.”
Taehyung didn’t seem to accept that, turning and hugging onto Yoongi despite the werecat’s protests—loud as they were.
But Yoongi waddled himself and Taehyung out of the kitchen, and out of your way. And Taehyung forced his hugs on the werecat without avail.
You returned to your fairy, directing his actions with little gestures, happy when the food turned out well—just as Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook joined everyone downstairs.
Jimin greeted them with a chirpy ‘Good Morning!’ while ushering them to the table. “We just finished making breakfast!”
Jungkook looked like he was still half-asleep, movements languid as Jin helped him to a spot at the table.
Yoongi was still trapped by Taehyung. “Stop it. Stop it. Let’s not do this. Stop it.”
Taehyung ignored him, nuzzling the were-cat’s neck until suddenly the were-cat shifted and escaped. Then he pouted, looking hurt and sullen.
Jin chuckled sleepily. “Come here, Taehyungie, we’ll catch him later for you to cuddle. Sit next to hyungie to eat.”
Hoseok easily claimed the seat on the other side of Taehyung. “Yoongi-hyung was probably just hungry, Taehyung. He’s not very forthright, but—” he dropped his glass, eyes glazed and far away. He frowned, hands hovering shakily over his plate.
You glanced at Jin for a moment.
Jin got up and went around to Hoseok’s side.
Hoseok’s gaze cleared slightly, but he looked shaken. “I need my crystal ball. Need to get upstairs.”
“I’ll help you,” Jin whispered softly, helping him up. “Even breaths, Hoseokie. Keep calm.”
Hoseok nodded, leaning into Jin. “Need to look. Need to see.”
You watched them go with a little worry, but you knew Hoseok would be fine as long as Jin was with him.
Today, you had work to do.
After you had made sure that Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin had ingested an adequate amount of food—and helped Yoongi make plates for the two that were absent—you went to your room, silently asking your waters for some good working clothes.
Your waters ignored you and gave you a dress, but at least the dress wouldn’t expose your body every time you moved.
Jimin was waiting with Parsley by the front door. “You’re going to the library, right?”
You smiled and nodded. “I have work to do. Are you coming with me?”
“You can’t go alone,” He said nonchalantly. “Too dangerous. Especially with a dark mage about.”
“True. But I wouldn’t like it if you didn’t want to come with me.”
“I want to,” He answered quickly, looking a little sheepish. “I really like it there. High ceilings. I can fly even though it’s raining.”
You smiled. “Alright, then.”
You peeked into the living room, noticing that Taehyung had ‘captured’ Yoongi again and that both were watching a movie with Jungkook and Namjoon. “I’m off to the library with Jimin. Be back later. Someone check on Jin and Hoseok if they don’t come down in an hour?”
“Mm’kay,” Namjoon answered distractedly, but you saw Yoongi look over at you and nod.
Rain didn’t bother you that much, it was just water after all, but Jimin seemed a little averse to it, so you made sure he had the umbrella. Not that it was much of a rainstorm, the gentle pattering drops far more soothing than harsh. Pleasant and somewhat warm.
There was a truck sitting in front of the library, and Valina was under the overhang of the doors, glaring at another person.
Jimin gently touched your shoulder and took off to watch from a distance, a distance from which he could easily intervene if he needed.
You carried the closed umbrella up to those waiting, wondering what was going on. “Hello Valina, how may I assist you?”
She glanced at you, eyes widening slightly, panicked a little.
“Ah! You must be the librarian, I am Grendel,” The dark mage said, turning toward you and bowing.
You froze, but tried not to display your panic. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”
“Yes, well, you see, as well as conducting my own business, I was asked to convey this load of books to this…charming town’s library.” He eyed you. “I had not realized that this library was run by a xana.”
“I had not realized my species could be of any interest to any being other than my own kind,” You answered evenly. “There is a room around the side of the building for after-hours book deliveries and donations, and the sign is right there, as well. I believe that lettering is large enough for any to read.”
“Ah, but I have…certain donations that need special care, and I wished to convey the instructions in person—as I was telling this…fiery, young woman.”
“That’s witch to you! And I told you I could have given her the instructions.” Valina crossed her arms.
“And I told you, there are certain things that only a librarian can understand. This place has special vaults for…dangerous tomes, does it not?” He turned to you.
“We would have to ask the owner of the library,” You answered vaguely. “I have not been informed of any. If you would be so kind as to deliver the rest to the side room, I will call the owner and have him come and talk with you.”
“I was specifically instructed—”
“I understand,” You cut him off. “However, I have no answers as to security for dangerous tomes, and for that, the owner is required. Once he has answers in regards to the safety of such tomes, then we may further discuss the tomes staying here. Until then, please patiently wait in the delivery room around the side of the building. I shall not ask again.”
“But—”
“You have about five seconds before I start singing: can you bare it, mage?” You asked, eyes narrowing in a challenge.
His mouth clamped shut and he bowed stiffly. “As you have asked, so shall I do.”
You nodded firmly and moved to the front doors, waiting until he was pulling the truck to the side of the building before unlocking the front doors and ushering Valina inside.
“Are you crazy? He’s a dark mage!” She hissed the moment the door closed.
“I am…very…aware…of…that…,” You said in between trying not to hyperventilate in the ensuing panic.
Jimin landed and quickly wrapped his arms and wings around you, forcing Valina to back up. “You’re crazy. You’re absolutely crazy.”
You just hugged him back with all of your might. “Need to call Jin.”
“I’ll do that,” Valina said, regarding you and Jimin and just a tiny bit disconcerted.
“It’s a trick, right? He’s just trying to get to you, right?” Jimin asked, sounding panicked.
Parsley twined around your feet, mewling.
“Where’s his pheonix?” You whispered.
You saw Valina look up sharply.
Jimin let go of you and shrunk, darting off to look.
You went to the desk slowly, sitting down and beginning your work. “He stop at your shop first?”
“Not exactly. Had a feeling.” Valina leaned against the counter, frowning. “A faun pointed him out to me, and my brain worked from there. My coven will ward the town. We’ve already been setting up protection wards on people’s houses, so most people should be safe at night. Except your house. But you have a haltija.”
“And a were-cat, and a djinn, dryad, seer, incubus-fairy mix, and a human that I swear has magic in his blood.”
“Mr. Kim definitely has magic in his blood,” Valina said, eyes flashing pink. “Ancient magic, but it is there. His family tree is made of touched and clearsighted.”
“Touched and clearsighted?” You asked.
“Touched people have a sort of intuition, they get a sense for things quickly—especially in regards to the magical. They tend to become fighters, people who protect others from…less-savory magic. Clearsighted folk can see through all magical protection that would confuse other humans. Why do you think he didn’t become a slobbering fool upon seeing you? Yes, he sees you’re hot as hell, but, because he has clearsight, he is able to resist that pull and instead focus on you as a person. Me? I have special charms to resist folk like yourself and stay a decent witch.” She looked you over and quickly looked away. “Though, I think it’s about time I recharge them.”
“I appreciate the effort,” You murmured, thinking about Jin and grateful for the distraction that she had been trying to give you. “There’s still so much I don’t know about the world and about people. I only knew my people.”
“Might help if you came into town more often.”
You looked at her quietly until she met your gaze with a little regret.
“Nevermind, that would be mass chaos and not pleasant for you. Forget I mentioned town. Let me ward it for your protection first.”
“Don’t go to any extra trouble on my account.”
“I won’t. My coven planned on putting up warding to protect from…unwanted behaviors.”
“You’re the police of the town, aren’t you?”
Valina grinned. “Yup! But don’t worry, we have people we answer to as well. Now, if we could get real town status, then we’d probably elect Mr. Kim as mayor—”
“Never gonna happen,” Jin said firmly, walking quickly over to you. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, standing up. “I sent him around the side to the drop-off area and Jimin is looking for the Pheonix, but he’s been gone since Valina called you.”
Yoongi shifted and ran out to see if he could track down the fairy.
Hoseok was looking a little…out of breath.
Jungkook seemed to be visually assessing you.
Namjoon was talking to the doorway.
Taehyung was looking around, awestruck. “Hyung…this place is so beautiful….”
Jin kissed your forehead and then glanced at Valina. “Got any extra protection charms?”
She patted her pockets demonstratively. “I was in a bit of a rush, toots. Apologies. Take the Djinn with you, he can use magic to protect you and it’s stronger than even a dark mage’s. He can protect you if he wishes.”
Hoseok gripped Jungkook’s arm. “No.”
Jungkook looked both surprised and hurt. “I can do it, hyung.”
“No, it has to be…” Hoseok looked desperately at him, then at you. “It has to be you. I…can’t tell you why…but I know….”
You could tell it was killing him to say it, tearing him up inside. “Okay. If you say it must be so, then it must be. Jungkook could protect us from here, correct?”
Hoseok considered for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay, now please sit down. You look so pale,” You pleaded softly, gently, touching his arm.
He relaxed a bit and pliantly let you guide him to your chair.
“Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon; please look out for Hoseok, I have a feeling he’s going to be having a rough day,” You asked, picking up Parsley and setting her in Hoseok’s lap. “Pet the kitty.”
Hoseok let out a small breath of an amused laugh, then did as told.
Then you and Seokjin went outside to meet the dark mage.
Grendel was waiting, looking patient, casually unloading boxes from the truck, but he quickly set aside the box he was carrying as he noticed your approach.
“This is Mr. Kim, the owner of the library. Mr. Grendel had inquiries about secure vaults for…dangerous tomes.”
Jin nodded. “I am only allowed by the government to approve of certain types of tomes. What is the nature of the tomes?” He pulled out some paperwork.
“One is a necromancers guide made with dragon leather,” Grendel said, looking worried.
You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you.
Grendel nodded. “Dark magic that must be locked away and never let out again. And that one…that one should remain off-record if possible.”
Jin was quiet, partially frozen. “Where is that one?”
“Still on the truck. I didn’t want to unload it if it couldn’t stay here.”
Jin nodded slowly. “I know a place where it can go. I’m assuming you don’t want to know it’s final location either.”
“That would be correct.”
“Okay. And the other tomes?”
“A Demon Book, a Crimson portfolio, and the notebook of…Fausto Vilareyo,” Grendel finished, not meeting your gaze.
Your heart seemed to stop.
Jin was looking to you. “Fausto Vilareyo?”
“The first dark mage,” You answered, trembling.
Jin nodded slowly. “All of these fall within what I am able to take in. I will care for the notebook and the necromancer’s guide.”
You nodded. “I….”
“Can you go get me some notecards?” Jin asked, providing you with a brief escape. “And a pen?”
You nodded, turning and fleeing the presence of such an evil book.
The others startled when you hurried in.
“Everything okay?” Yoongi asked, pausing in his task of what appeared to be drying Jimin’s wings.
“Yes. Did you find the pheonix?”
“No,” Jimin said, drooping. “No sign of it.”
“That’s fine,” You said hastily, grabbing some things for yourself.
“Slow down,” Valina advised, “before you drop everything you’re trying to pick up.”
You just nodded and raced out again, pausing before the corner and composing yourself.
Grendel conveyed the instructions for the last two books, then bowed. “I thank you for guarding these relics. It has been a long journey to find a safe resting place for them.”
You dipped your head very slightly. “War makes many things difficult, though they be difficult to begin with.”
“Very true. I must be off. Many more false trails to lay,” Grendel said, bowing once more. He hesitated in leaving, though. “I know it may not mean much, but I apologize for the wrongs that have been committed toward your kind. I had never seen one of your kind in person before now and I regret not knowing. I do what I must, though, and for that I know I would never be able to listen to your songs. Thank you for your benevolence toward me, even knowing I am of the kind that is dangerous toward yourself.”
“If you continue to remove dangerous things from those who would abuse them, then I wish you luck,” You said, meaning it. Not just anyone would turn over what they had found to be locked away. And while his dark magic was fresh and potent, perhaps it was because he needed it to get those items. “May I ask, what were you doing in the forest?”
He blinked in surprise. “The forest? Oh…I…I’d actually heard that the forest was quite nice and I have this stupid pheonix that’s bound to me and he goes and gets into all sorts of trouble if I don’t properly exercise him.” He looked around. “Thinking of…you haven’t happened to see a pheonix?”
You shook your head rapidly.
Jin shook his head as well.
He sighed. “He probably went after the dragon magic, the stupid fledgling. Well. Either he gets eaten or he learns a lesson. Thank you for your time.” He bowed again and hopped into the truck.
“Dragon?” Jin asked, eyes wide.
“The river dragon, probably,” You offered.
Jin looked at you like you’d grown a second hand.
“Jungkook and I ran across him when we were passing the time before going to look for you. He’s my river-kin, apparently.”
Jin shook his head, showing you the vaults for the books you would care for, how to access them and such. “Of course he is.”
“Hoseok looked pale.”
“Yeah. He’s not as strong as he likes to convey.”
“Are any of us?”
Jin kissed your cheek. “Probably not.”
You ran your fingers along the mortar between the bricks. “Do you think he had an ulterior motive?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. You want to stay at the library?”
You nodded. “I have work to do. Jimin will probably stay with me.”
He nodded. “I don’t think Taehyung will leave now, either. Is that okay?”
“He’s cute. Jimin and I can keep an eye on him.”
“Okay. I’m going to take the others home, then. Make sure Hoseok gets some water, food, and rest.” Jin kissed your cheek. “Don’t speak a word to the others about what books are hidden in the vaults. Or about the books I will be hiding. It’ll be safer.”
You nodded firmly. “Agreed. It’s for their own well-being. Hoseok knows.”
He nodded. “Probably.”
Yoongi stalked up in his black and grey form—his largest form—and then paused, getting ready to leap into Jin’s arms.
Jin stroked Yoongi’s head. “Hey. We’re okay. Thanks for worrying.”
Yoongi just snorted and rested, acting like he’d intended to fall asleep in Jin’s arms.
You reached over and scratched his head, then went into the library to finally do the work that you hadn’t been able to get done in the past three days.
Post-Chapter 9 Survey
Previous.  Next.
Masterlist.  Clearwater Springs Masterpost.
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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 4 years ago
Note
YOUR ANNIE FIC “tragedies of war” MADE ME CRY SM :( gosh your writing is beautiful!! can i request smth similar? maybe after annie meets the scouts she reunites with reader and it’s just fluff and stuff 🥺🥺 no rush ofc <33
Honestly, after that one, we all wanted a happy ending version (even me lol)
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Home
(Annie Leonhart x Reader)
AU: Canon
Warnings: None
Category: Fluff
Summary: As a sort of divergence from this fic, Annie breaks out of the crystal and immediately goes looking for her S/O.
Words: 1.8K
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Y/n.
It was the first thing on her mind when she was suddenly freed from the crystal.
Where is she?
She could feel the effects of time on her muscles - they were stiff and tense, reluctant to move at all.
Just how long have I been in that thing? She wondered. How much time has passed?
After four years, you’d imagine she’d have a wide array of things on her mind. But, in reality, there was only one.
Her girlfriend.
She leaned against the way tiredly before slinking down to sit, folding her knees into her chest and burying her head. She could tell, by some sense unknown to even her, that a lot of time had passed.
She thought of what you’d look like now. Were you happy? Were you getting along with everyone? Had you found out the secret of the walls? Did you find out her secret?
Thoughts raced through her head like a crashing river, never stopping for any order, but still flowing in the same direction. Suddenly, a thought creeped its way up her neck, instilling a seed of worry deep in the pit of her stomach.
Were you even okay? Were you hurt? Did something happen? Did you... did you...
No, she thought, determination struggling to reach past the worry that laced her mind and expression, she’s fine. She’s strong, nothing would’ve happened to her. No titan would ever kill her, she’s stronger than that.
She finally made her way up on unsteady feet, staring around the room absentmindedly.
She’s... she’s okay... The blonde stumbled forward, her legs voicing their complaints painfully, but she didn’t care. She has to be...
...
I have to find her.
---
So, here she was now. The front door of the Scout building, two MPs standing wearily to either side of her. She wasn’t surprised by that, though. It made an amount of sense - she was a titan shifter from Marley, who was the number one enemy of Paradis at the moment. Still, she made it clear her only intention was to visit her girlfriend, and, with much persistence, they allowed her.
That didn’t stop the two MPs from boastfully carrying rifles and folding Annie’s arm behind her back painfully. They needed to make sure there was zero chance of transforming, especially now that she was so close to many important military figures.
An MP stepped forward, pounding their fist on the door begrudgingly. An even more begruntled Levi answered.
“Military Police?” He questioned, cocking an eyebrow at their unannounced presence. He sighed, before speaking again, the tiredness evident in his voice. “What are we being arrested for now?”
“Nothing,” the female MP to her right spoke quickly. “Just a visitor.” She spoke flatly, gesturing to the blonde still restrained in the soldiers’ grasps.
Levi eyes slowly tracked their way from the MP down to face Annie.
“Her?” He raised an eyebrow, almost looking at her with condescension. She wasn’t surprised. She looked tired - after all, those four years in the crystal weren’t exactly a holiday. Not to mention, her face, normally neutral and stoic, was plastered with worry. Eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, as if she was waiting impatiently for some horrid news.
He continued to stare, but Annie didn’t crumple under his concrete gaze. Her eyes were fixed over his shoulder, searching the room behind him for any sign of her lover.
She saw no trace of you amongst the soldiers, and worry began to grow once again, and her heart slowly dropped more and more.
Despite her limited success in finding you, she locked eyes with a familiar face - Armin. He seemed quite surprised to see her, a curious expression painted his face as he marched over.
“Annie?” He said her name, speaking it almost like he wasn’t even sure she was real. “What are you...” He trailed off, confusion evident in his tone.
Quickly though, he regained his train of thought, “Come inside.” He gestured gently, and she stepped inside eagerly.
She scanned the room once again, and there was no sign of you. The seed of worry grew.
“Things have changed a lot, y’know.” Armin started, leaning against the wall. “We made it outside the walls. We know about you and the warrior program. It feels like it would take years for you to catch up on everything that’s happened but-”
“Where’s Y/n?”
She didn’t bother for small talk, or hell, even meaningful conversation for that matter. That didn’t matter right now. She had one thing on her mind.
“Y/n?” He echoed, registering the question for a moment. “Y/n is...”
-
What’s all the chattering about? You wondered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you woke from your nap. You laid in your dorm room bed, which unfortunately shared a wall with the common area. Given all the noise, you figured there was some type of guest.
You pulled the covers off of your body, and sleepily got up and went towards the door, yawning loudly. You stepped out of the door and into the hallway, and headed towards the commons.
-
“Y/n is...” The blonde man spoke unconfidently, almost as if he was trying to remember your whereabouts.
She paid no attention to what he was saying, though, as movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
A slow shadow slunk against the wall, placing it’s hand on the wall for balance. And it rounded the corner.
She made eye contact. And there it was.
Her world.
You.
You stood right in front of her for the first time in four years. Tiredness and fatigue were evident in your eyes, but you were certainly there. Alive and well. And that’s all that mattered.
“Y/N!!” She shouted, and the light seemed to return to her face. The thousand pound weight on her shoulders had just been lifted, and finally, she could move again. And, although her shocked and worried expression stayed present, you could see the quick buildup of tears in her eyes.
She broke free of the grasp the MPs had on her, adrenaline assisting her in breaking through their hold easily, and pushed her way past Armin, sprinting towards you as fast as she possibly could.
Your hazy mind took a moment to process the blonde mass running towards you, but your eyes lit up in excitement as you finally processed that beautiful face and identify it as your girlfriend, somehow awake from her slumber.
“Annie!” You beamed, opening your arms to allow her in just in time for her body to collide with yours, easily knocking over your unprepared body.
You landed against the wall of the hallway roughly, and you slid down the wall carelessly. Your girlfriend was clinging to you almost desperately, gripping the front of your shirt and burying her face in it, your leg to either side of her body. 
You grabbed the back of her head, pulling her closer into you. You could feel the wetness of tears on the front of your shirt as she sniffled and sobbed into your chest. Normally, she would never let herself get so emotional in front of everyone, but the overwhelming relief she felt just to know you were safe was too much for her to be able to control.
It was all too much for her. The sight of your adorable face, the warmth your body gave off, the scent the was so originally yours engrained into the clothes you wore. It hadn’t hit her until just now how much she missed you, even if she was hardly conscious in the crystal.
She sobbed helplessly into your shirt, finding herself unable to do anything else at the moment. You were relieved too, of course, but you never had to worry about Annie’s safety, which couldn’t be said vice versa. Still, happy tears filled your eyes as you continued to embrace your girlfriend.
You stayed like that for a little while longer, until a loud *ahem* caught your attention. You moved your head up to look (though Annie decided to keep hers right where it was), and were greeted with Caption Levi staring down at you.
“I get you’re happy, Y/n,” He stated bluntly, trying not to make things super awkward. “But this is the kind of affection that can be saved for your dorm room.”
A pink tint flared up on your cheeks, suddenly reminded by the fact that everyone in the commons could see you two.
“A-Ah,” you chuckled. “Of course Captain Levi.”
You placed your hands on the underside of Annie’s thighs, allowing you to hold her as you stood up and walked to your dorm.
You shut the door quickly, locking it for good measure, and laid down on the bed, setting your lover down gently beside you.
It seemed her crying had died down for the most part, thankfully. Even though they were happy tears, something about seeing your lover cry made you so unhappy.
“Annie,” you smiled at her, causing her to move her head up to stare at you. You brushed the hair out of her face affectionately, smiling with happy tears in your eyes. “I’ve missed you.”
The statement only seemed to bring out more emotion in her, as her lip trembled in an attempt to not let any tears fall. “Y/n... I was so worried about you... I thought... maybe... something had happened.”
You laughed warmly at that. Not necessarily making fun of her, but instead creating a warm and enveloping environment around you two with it.
“I would never leave you like that, Annie. I’m strong, you remember?” You grinned, and rolled up your sleeve to flex your bicep, a funny habit of yours that she had taken note of during your cadet days together.
She laughed at your silliness, her face seeming genuinely happy for the first time in years.
She was at home.
“I know...” She sniffled, reassuring herself even more, despite the fact you were already right in front of her. “I just... I was just worried for you...”
She muttered, pressing her cheek to your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. You wrapped an arm around her gently, using the other arm to pull a blanket over the two of you, before grabbing her hand in your own.
“You need some rest, I’m sure, sweetie.” Your words were smooth and even, lighting a fire under Annie’s heart with every syllable.
“Yeah...” She smiled into the embrace, feeling truly at peace for the first time in what felt like forever. “I guess so...”
She buried her head in your chest once again, the soft sound of your heartbeat lulling her gently as the wave of sleep finally overtook her body.
She hadn’t slept like this in ages. No, this was different.
She was home.
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This isn’t proofread hahaaaaaaa :)
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yannowhatigiveup · 4 years ago
Text
A Blinded Kiss
I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.
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"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.
"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”
"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.
"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"
Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"
"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.
"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."
After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.
'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'
Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.
"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.
Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.
"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.
"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.
"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"
"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.
"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."
"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."
She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.
"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.
"W-"
"What happens if I kiss you instead?"
The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.
She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.
"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.
"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.
"You know about me being Ladybug?"
"The same way you know I'm Robin"
They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.
"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.
Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.
"Oh hello Mr Wayne"
"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"
She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"
His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"
Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.
"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"
"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.
"I win"
~~~
Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.
"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"
No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"
"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"
"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"
"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.
"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"
"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.
"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"
Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"
Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I didn't want to bother you"
"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"
~~~
Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.
"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"
Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.
"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"
When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.
"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.
"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.
"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.
"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,
"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"
"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.
"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"
The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.
"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"
Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"
"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.
"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.
"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.
"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.
"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.
Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.
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mingoyeob-archive · 3 years ago
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under the oak tree II | teaser
summary ⇾ jungkook has finally returned home from war and is anxious to see his new bride. what will happen when he finally lays his eyes on her after three years and how will he be able to contain the hunger he’s held for her even after all this time.
genre ⇾ knight! jungkook, strangers to lovers au, will be smut
pairing ⇾ jungkook x reader
teaser word count ⇾ 1.3k
authors note ⇾ finally! i've started writing uot 2! this is just a snippet from the beginning but here's an update on how its going so far, hope it gets you excited for the finished product! nothing smutty or riské, at least not yet ;)
part 1, interlude
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it was hot.
the sun beating down on the large number of knights in the campaign had their foreheads burning and hair sticking to their skin. expensive armor that was once new and shiny was now heavy with dirt and mud and sweat. they had been riding for days now with barely any breaks in between and it was obviously starting to take a toll on the exhausted band of knights. well - on everyone except jungkook.
of course the commander would be perfectly fine. he had trained years for this type of thing, never once slowing down or stopping to catch a breath. and that’s not to say everyone else hadn’t trained to earn their spot. just no one had trained as hard as jungkook did. wanted it as much as jungkook did. even from a young age, when he fought warriors three times his size, he had never given up. swinging his sword till his arms gave out or until his opponent gave up out of pity and walked away from his broken and tired body splayed out on the dirty ground. cowards is what jungkook would call after them, watching them walk off before he lost consciousness.
“sir…” a voice rang out loud, but exhausted, from the back of the formation. “don’t you think it’s time to stop and make camp?”
horses came to a halt as the commander stopped and heads turned in the direction of the culprit. the voice seemed to belong to a handsome young knight who’s fluffy brown hair was basically drenched making him look as if a bucket of water had been dumped over his head. his body laid slumped over the back of his horse as he looked up in the direction of commander, puppy eyes begging with desperation. the rest of the knights assumed the boy had to be lacking a few braincells - how could he not? no one in their right mind would ever question the commander when he gets in a mood like this.
jungkook had barely even turned around, steely eyes still facing forward as he hissed, ”what’s your name knight?”
the boy gulped, all signs of exhaustion seeming to drain from his face as he started to recognize the tension in the air. his back straightened up and he tried his best to talk loud and avoid stumbling over his words, “taehyung, commander. sir kim taehyung...”
“and may i ask what, sir kim taehyung, do you think gives you the right to tell me when and where to camp my knights at?” jungkook says, biting out the words. everyone could see the mans shoulders tensing and those in the front caught a glimpse of white knuckles gripping hard on to the reigns of his horse.
taehyung stared wide eyed at the back of the mans head before flicking them around trying to catch the eyes of someone who could help him out the situation as he mutters meekly, “well commander i just thought-“
“you thought wrong.” he growled, cutting the conversation short. jungkook didn’t even spare him a glance, instead urging his horse forward and calling out to the rest of the group, “i’m the commander. we’ll camp when I say, any questions?”
he was met with silence, “didn’t think so.”
jungkook didn’t say much more before his horse galloped off expecting the rest to follow. most of the more experienced and knowledgeable knights did so out of fear of being chewed out like taehyung had been, already used to the commanders stern and no bullshit attitude. the rest, young and new to the guard, followed hesitantly with looks of uneasiness. taehyung who was still in shock sat there on his horse staring off in the distance at the commander as he charged ahead, unsure of whether he was still even considered part of the campaign anymore.
“don’t worry, you’re not fired.” a voice from the side of his horse spoke making taehyung turn his head. next to him stood another dashing knight, blonde hair parted down the middle and sweeping over his forehead. he turned his lips into a smile at taehyung, eyes squinting and chubby cheeks squishing up with gesture. “at least, not yet. but i’d advise against asking the commander too many questions. he doesn’t like that too much, more of the ride in silence type, ya know?”
taehyung just nodded his head frantically, glad someone was giving him help on how to survive the rest of the journey. he smiled and laughed out, “thank you for the advice, kind sir!”
“ugh no need to be all formal, just call me jimin! can I ask why you wanted to stop and make camp?” jimin says, voice dripping with honey like kindness.
taehyung just stared at him with a blank face, not understanding how the knight hadn’t noticed the bullets of sweat dripping down his face and the heaving breaths he took. but taehyung could see the man was almost in the same state and he assumed it must not be that much of a big deal to him. so instead he played it off and laughed, “ah i was just thinking the horses might need a rest! my tannie seems to be out of breath.”
taehyung patted the side of his black and chestnut brown horse yeontan, who just sneered in return and jerked forward a little, seeming like he was able to tell his owner was throwing him under the bus. taehyung made a mental note to cut the horses usual treat of carrots in half for the obvious betrayal, lips turning down in a frown. “by the way, what crawled up the commander butt and died? i hope he’s not always like that or else i’m definitely not making it.”
jimin let out a boisterous laugh at taehyung, shoulders shaking and head thrown back in amusement. “ah well, jungkooks just in a little bit of a mood right now. hates being away from the misses too long if you catch my drift. ” he says after catching his breath from his laughing fit.
“and don’t worry, your tannie will get his break. jungkook usually likes to make camp a little past the halfway point where a stream passes by for drinking water.”
taehyung sighed in relief at jimins words. the halfway point was just a couple miles ahead. they would be there before sundown and he couldn’t wait to strip this heavy army off and take a nap - and get tannie a drink of water too, of course. his smile returned and only seemed to get bigger as he reached out and gave jimin a pat on the back, “once again i thank you, jimin! you seem to be very knowledgeable on the commander! you must have taken this route with him many a blue moon, yes?”
“of course! i am his second in command after all,” jimin says, sending taehyung a sly wink before moving his horse forward in the direction of the rest of the campaign. “better catch up! there’s a lot of mysterious creatures out here that could use a snack. don’t want to be left behind!”
jimins horse kicked up dust in its wake and once again taehyung was left in shock, surprised by the casual way the man was able to drop his title on taehyung as if it was no big deal. and after what he said, taehyung was definitely fired. he just shook his head and let out a loud groan, head dropping forward into his hands. but his call of frustration was met with a howl in the distance that seemed to be a lot closer than he was comfortable with. so with shaky hands he gripped his reigns and rode after jimin calling out after him pathetically, “hey! jimminie, please don’t leave me!”
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enmy-writes · 4 years ago
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Just Let Me Help You
Summary: Zuko, trying to keep is girlfriend safe, unintentionally gains the trust of the Gaang after a showdown with Combustion Man.
Word Count: 2728
Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)
Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader
Genre: Mostly fluff, is fluff-angst a thing? Idk guys I’m soft, you tell me.
Rated: 18+
Content Warnings: Profanity, some gore graphics (brief mentions of blood, killing, murder), uhhhh that’s it I think I’m sorry if I forget anything else.
****Huge shout-out to my friends Kenz and Jenna for editing this and hyping me up. Hopefully, since this semester from Hell will be over soon, I’ll be able to write more. Please request things! Thank-you all for supporting this and let me know more of what you want to see in the future :) Also, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!****
_____________________________________________________________________
They had landed the war balloon days ago, stalking the tired and defeated Team Avatar and trying to figure out how the complicated Fire Prince would convince the people he chased for months that he wants to help them now.
(Y/N) was stoking the hot flame provided by the fire bender, making sure the coals were burning a cherry red before she added leaves and herbs into a pot to make a stew for the two to enjoy. Her eyes followed Zuko as he paced back and forth, practicing what he was going to say when he finally decided to confront the rebel group, lips turned upward in an amused smirk.
“Hey, Zuko here…” she heard him say before he started rambling a bunch of nonsense about his past; from his discovery, to Azula, to his father-- all the tragic topics. It took him about three minutes, but he finished with a hopeful look in his direction.
“Well?!” He clenched his fists at his side in a nervous gesture, only wanting to get this right.
The girl on the log cleared her throat before speaking, obviously hiding her laughter from the sensitive boy. “Well… it’s perfect. I especially liked the ‘Hey, Zuko here’ part. I’m sure that Aang and his friends with be very pleased to finally learn your name instead of thinking you’re called ‘Angry Ponytail Hotman’.’’
He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. The melodic laughter from his companion tempted him to give up his quest and just run away with her and live a happy life free of his father and his destiny… whatever that may be.
Still laughing, (Y/N) stood from her log by the fire and made her way to Zuko, coming up behind him. Her arms slid right around his slim body, holding on tight as she tried to pull his mind from the depths of his insecurities.
“Zuko, love.” Her voice is soft, but intense. “Just go down there. I won’t lie, they might not take you right away. You have done a lot of damage to them and their goals.”
His warm hands slide down the tops of her forearms and slide between her chilled fingers, entwining them together as Zuko grips her like she’s holding him down on the land they’re on.
“I… I just…” He struggles to get his feelings out, finding it hard to convey how he feels even to the girl wrapped around him.
She shushes him. “I know.” Is all she says, as they stand there in a momentary comfortable silence before she detaches from him to continue dinner.
____________________________
Zuko had told her to stay behind, that he’d be back to either get her or because he failed to convince the group that he came to support them, instead of harm them.
“Zuko! I could easily be an alibi for you. A reason for them to trust you!”
“No. End of story. They could attack me and you’re in Fire Nation clothes. You’re staying here.”
A staring match between the two only lasted a few seconds, but (Y/N) let it go; remembering Iroh’s advice that sometimes the boy has to do what eases his mind to grow.
The empty pot gleamed an orange glow from the flames, a light in the dark woods that surrounded the two as they lounged by the fire.
(Y/N) was carding her fingers through the upset prince’s hair while he stared at the sky; confused. His emotions spilling onto (Y/N). He didn’t talk much about the encounter, only enough to tell her that they wouldn’t be helping the Avatar defeat his father anytime soon. Rather than pressure him, she offered her solace with calming actions rather than words.
The two had met in their early childhood, (Y/N)’s father being the leader of the Yuyan Archers and of course the Fire Lord wanted the talented girl to meet his… troubled son. In hope that she could help bend his son into the ruthless leader the nations needed to proceed him. Though they didn’t see each other as much as they should have due to (Y/N)’s schooling, the two quickly became close friends and were often found with Lady Ursa quietly running around the palace grounds.
His banishment led to (Y/N) perfecting her skills, and becoming the master she was destined to be, given there was no more distraction. No one could understand her in the way that Zuko did— they fit together like they were made for one another. Where he was hotheaded, she was cool; Where he was nimble and direct, she was resourceful and hidden. The two were the perfect set of opposites who ultimately balanced each other. And one without the other was a heartbreak everyone could see.
When she heard the news of his return, she rushed to the palace; radiant as ever. In an instant, the two fell back into where they left off;  barely any words needed between the two. Her fingers and lips had trailed over his scar often in those few days, brushing away the tears and insecurities that came with it.
Leaving the Fire Nation with Zuko wasn’t even a debate in her mind. She was tired of the life of lies and torment that her nation inflicted upon the world. She had spent the last two years relocating and rebranding people who were targets to the Fire Nation. In total, about one hundred innocent lives were saved from her dangerous missions. Her skill level was better than even her father’s, and she prided herself in her abilities. (Y/N) was truly a professional in her art with the eye of an eagle.
When she caught Zuko writing a letter to her with packed bags on his bed, she instantly went into the shadows and caught up with the boy easily, hiding in the balloon behind the engine for a while until it was too late for him to turn back. It was hot and the most uncomfortable thing she has ever done, but she regrets none of it. She joked with the boy; how did he not question a pile of fabric behind the piece of equipment that holds fire? She let it go after he hugged her close and cried for a while.
“Don’t do that shit again, Zuko.” Her voice was stern, though her voice stern, she held him close. She ghosted her fingers over his tense shoulders; the shoulder that carried such burdens. She pressed her fingers into his shoulders; trying her best to rub the tension from his body. 
“I won’t. Never again. Don’t leave me, I need you.”
A rustle of leaves and broken trees in the forest near the edge of their little camp put the two into defense, instantly gripping her perfectly crafted bow and quiver. Her ears pricked at a slight movement and she aimed her bows in the direction of the noise without even looking. Suddenly, green clothes fill the area as a younger girl makes her way into the clearing. Startled, Zuko sends a wave of fire towards the intruder, burning the girl.
Everything happened fast.
(Y/N)’s left foot—her plant foot—sunk into the ground and twisted inward, releasing a loud crack into the air. The Earth girl was long gone now; Zuko had been screaming at himself when he heard the cry of pain and the sickening noise that left the lips of his girlfriend.
The earth has released its hold on her, but the damage was done. She kneeled, trying to hold back tears but failing as they kept streaming down her face in a pain response. Zuko’s own eyes filled with tears as he ran over to her, helping her sit down and take the tension off of it.
The joint was already beginning to swell, black and blue and purple and yellow starting to show up in swirls around the area. Zuko carefully tried to feel the injury, barely touching the girl in fear of hurting her more. (Y/N) sighed, pushing his fingers away and ignoring his protest. She rotated her foot outward, cringing at the pain, but crying out when she turned it the other way. Zuko cupped his hands around her ankle, hands heated slightly to hopefully alleviate the pain.
“Baby… it’s okay—”
“No, you’re hurt! I knew this would happen!” He cuts her off with a panicked yell. (Y/N) places her hands on the sides of his face, forcing his eyes upon hers with a slight wince of discomfort.
“It’s most definitely, at worst, a fracture. I can still move it outwards without a lot of pain. It’s, like, a week off my foot at most and then another week with a splint and a crutch. I am okay, Zuko.” They stared at each other for a solid minute, saying nothing.
"Promise?" Zuko whispered.
"You think I would lie to you, Zuko?" She says as she wraps her pinky his for good measure
They turn in not too long after, (Y/N)’s ankle wrapped up in some extra clothes for stability. Zuko’s arms hold her to his chest as they slip off into the world of dreams.
_________________________
Oh shit. She thought from her perch on top of the cliff edge. The assassin that they have also been trying to find has been blowing up the place, really testing the stability of the edge of the cliff in shakes after shakes like an earthquake. Zuko had told her to stay at camp, but unfortunately for Zuko; (Y/N) was never that good at listening to commands.
She was sitting down, watching the Avatar, his friends, and her boyfriend try to figure out how to win this fight against the combustion bender, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t want any pressure on her foot from standing on it; settling for the dull throbs of pain coming from the force of gravity alone.
Some third eye. (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched her boyfriend get too close to being blown off the edge of the cliff, wincing. She quickly strung her bow, aiming it at the man. She smirked, a devious smirk, and aimed it in a precise location.
Zuko was still trying to talk the man out of it when suddenly, his eyes went blank and the grossest sound he has ever heard reached his ears. Everyone watched the man, confused as to why he just stopped. It’s not until red trails down his forehead and around his nose in a slow trickle that they look at his eye.
In the middle of the red eye, that at one point seemed indestructible; an arrow sat; a perfect shot — his perfect shot. "Bullseye!" (Y/N) howled, her voice resonating in his ears.
In the midst of Zuko's panic, he failed to recognize the cliff he was standing on becoming increasingly unsturdy; turning he locked eyes with the archer. A ghost of a smile graced her lips, pride radiating off of her. Though he was angry, he couldn't help but share her pride. He locked eyes with his girlfriend who was sitting nonchalantly on the cliff edge above them all, waving nonetheless, when he told her to stay back. It’s then that the earth beneath him rumbles and falls, taking him with it.
“Zuko!” She screams, jumping to her feet; a loud crack coming from her ankle, buckling under the pressure and bringing her to her knees.
With a hobble in her step, (Y/N) climbed down the cliffside. The tears ran down her face at a ferocious pace, making her way over to the cliffside, a loud sob relented from her mouth as she saw Aang helping Zuko up over the edge of the cliff. 
"Spirits, Zuko!" She breathed, limping her way over to him and hugging him tight. "I should kill you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed, pulling him into her chest. 
Zuko huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around her. He took deep breaths, calming his nerves from his near death experience; he focused on the feeling of her hand carding through his hair to grip it tight, and the hold on his shoulders. As he calms down, he remembers that he told her to stay put; and he sharply pulls away.
"I told you to stay at camp!" He huffed, "I told you I was coming back for you!”
She scoffs pushing on his forehead with two fingers. “In case you have forgotten, Zuko, I have authority issues. If I weren’t here, who would be saving your stupid royal ass? No one! You’re welcome, by the way. He wasn’t going to negotiate, Prince Pouty, and you and everyone else here is no good to the world dead.”
“You—You---You could’ve been hurt! (Y/N)! Or worse!” His protest was a whisper, trying to make the scene more private as he’s aware of the crowd around them.
“Zuko, love, I can handle myself. I’m a master at my craft--.”
"—your craft of carelessness, you could've been killed—"
"—but I wasn't Zuko!"
"That's not the point." His voice stern, making it clear that the conversation was done for now. (Y/N) simply nodded, pulling away from him and fixing her clothes.
Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka watched the two as they argued; watching as they continuously tried to out-care the other. They watched as the two eventually stopped arguing, instead remained staring, as if daring each other to speak
“That was a ... nice shot? I guess?" Aang spoke, clearing his throat and drawing the couples attention to him. "He's definitely you know, dead."
(Y/N) smiles at the boy. “Thank you, Avatar, for helping save this dumb ass from falling off a cliff.” She gets up and bows to him. Zuko suddenly picks her up, the world turning sideways as he put her bridal style in his arms.
“Stop putting weight on your ankle!”
“I’m literally showing respect to the person who just helped you, is that a crime?”
“What if you break your ankle so much that you have to cut it off.”
“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“Okay well you were first when deciding to sit on the edge of a cliff with a broken ankle.”
“You’re right! Sitting is dangerous. Next time, I’ll make sure to stand so at least I’ll have a better chance of reacting if the cliff side starts falling from under me. Oh wait, you were standing, and you still fell.”
Zuko sets her down on a broken rock that’s suitable enough for her to sit on. “Will you just shut up already and let me help you.” He reaches for her ankle, but she moves it from his grasp. Their eyes meet again and narrow in competition.
A mess of limbs as the (Y/N) evades the grip of Zuko, occasionally slapping his hands away if they get too close.
Sokka tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth. “Is he—is he actually caring for someone?”
Aang nods. “I think? I don’t know, they’re kind of fighting a lot.”
Toph cringes, “Guys, I think it was me who hurt her in the first place. Last night at their camp. Zuko instantly stopped trying to help me when I heard her scream.”
“Guys… I think I’m supposed to let him be my master. I mean, he did just risk everything to save us.” Aang says, eyes locked on the one member who he cares more about than anyone.
Katara, still holding off on agreeing, looks to the two Fire Nation kids again.
“Ow! You bit me! Are you crazy?!” Zuko yells, shaking his left hand out.
The stranger girl laughs cheerfully. “Only crazy for you, stupid.”
And a phenomenon occurs. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation blushes and looks down at the ground, a huge smile on his face.
“I hate you.” Is all he says.
“Yeah, I love you too.”
Katara, seeing the humane side of the prince, finally lets her guard down and walks over to them. Zuko’s eyes widen at her proximity, but the water tribe girl holds his gaze.
“I’ll heal the girl if it gets you two to shut up. And you have to find dinner for tonight.”
Katara’s eyes widen again at the sight of the crying prince who suddenly bows to her feet, thanking her with his whole heart. He then turns to his smiling girl beside him and pulls her into a hug.
“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”
“I’ll always help you… stupid.”
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southslates · 4 years ago
Text
you are lost without the waiting
for the @grishaversebigbang mini bang 2021!
lovely art was done for this piece by amethyst @amethystmoonart [here!] and door @doorhandle16 [here] ! these two were absolutely amazing to work with <3
Summary:
Inej made a deal with the devil. She had faith in him, for whatever reason. His eyes were black as dirt. They were cold. They were home.
In which Inej is Persephone, Kaz is Hades, and she chooses to stay.
ao3 link!
“Tell me you loved to destroy.
Tell me you need me. Please. You are the bones
of my spine. You are the ground beneath my feet.
You are made of deeper stuff than the earth
can give. Admit it: you are lost without the waiting.
― clementine von radics, letter from hades to persephone
Can you even imagine yourself in paradise?
Even the daughter of gods must know loneliness,
must sometimes want nothing more than to be
trapped in a hell of forevers. Thank me, you queen.
I’ve given you forever.”
/
Inej had been a wind spirit.
Technically, she still was. She didn’t feel like one anymore. She used to dance across rooftops and skies—her parents said she was a  gravity-defier. That there was no place in the world—no land, nor ocean—that could bind her feet—or her—to anything.
They were wrong. She had been taken when flying through the skies, swept away into a deep sleep until she woke up in a bed at the Menagerie. There she met Tante Heleen, purveyor of lost spirits. Heleen had told Inej that she saved the girl from a fiery fate, and that now she owed her an indenture. An indenture Inej paid by tending the lands the goddess reigned over and touching the men who let Heleen carry out her whims.
Inej had been a wind spirit, but she did not think she was one anymore. She could not break free. If she left the grassy fields of Heleen’s island world she would be caught and subjugated to an even darker fate. 
She stayed. She tended to the fields. She danced in front of gods with long teeth. She belonged to the Menagerie, the girls with lost spirits. She distanced the innocent who breezed through the flower fields from the one who balanced on rope. She felt like two people. She wanted to leave but had nowhere to go.
One day, airing out a field of daisies, she stopped. She could see a flash of color between the deathly white blooms, and held her breath as she reached out to thumb bright orange petals. It was a geranium. It had been her mother’s favorite flower.
In a moment of weakness and pain and longing, she reached for the stem and tugged it out of the earth. And then the ground opened, and Inej fell.
/
Inej felt as though she fell for days. She thought she would shatter into a thousand pieces when she finally hit the bottom of this well. She thought she would fall forever.
When she reached the bottom of the hole, it was an ocean. She found herself submerged in water and darkness, and pulled herself up until she felt dry air. The darkness stayed omnipresent. She couldn’t see anything. “Hello?” she called into a void.
For a minute, nothing happened. She could almost believe that she was nonexistent. And then something, a bullet, whizzed past her. She barely dodged it.
A light flicked on, and she saw a man in a bright orange waistcoat holding a . . . small cannon in her direction. She assumed it had dislodged the bullet that had almost torn her immortal life. The light disturbed Inej for a moment, but she found her balance quickly. She anticipated another attack, but the man just frowned in her direction. “Who are you?”
“Where am I?” Inej countered.
The man took in her silk dress and the painted spots on her face, and he seemed to come to his own conclusion. “Not anywhere you should be, goddess. Your kind are not welcome here.”
“Where is here?”
The man sighed. “My name is Jesper,” he said, then gestured to his side. “Welcome to the land of greed. I suppose I’ll have to take you to the boss.”
/
Jesper took Inej to a large black palace in the middle of . . . absolutely nothing. It wasn’t particularly enchanting, unlike the gilded arches of the Menagerie. The building seemed to speak to her, to warn her away from its obsidian glare. She wanted to turn back when Jesper gestured for her to enter, but she had nowhere else to go. Even if she could find her way to the surface, she would land in Hell that was simply more discreet.
And she was certain that she was in Hell. The land of greed, Jesper had said. The land of greed, of rocks and riches and death. What lay under the fanciful pretenses of the land Tante Heleen and men such as Pekka Rollins claimed to rule.
Inej didn’t know who ruled this land, but she was certain she was about to find out. She took one last look around the landscape, blank and dead and black, before stepping into the palace. The stone of the entrance cracked under her feet.
Jesper led her around dilapidated columns and stairs and walls, human architecture, until they reached a large room at the top of the palace. Even up here, Inej was distinctly aware of the stillness of the air. She felt as though a part of her was missing. She felt like a wind spirit again. When she looked down, she could almost see through herself. She required air to stay formed. This place was sucking out her lifeblood, and she could not find it in herself to care.
“Kaz!” he yelled. Inej startled at the sudden noise, but stayed deft on her feet as they approached a tall, lank, pale figure, sitting at a throne that almost seemed like a desk. There was a hat on the man’s head and a cane next to him. Inej frowned at it. She had met many gods and spirits, and none needed aids such as that. “We’ve got a four-hundred-sixty-three.”
The man looked up, and his searing brown eyes met hers. He didn’t break that contact as he stood up from his seat and gripped his cane. “I don’t know what your asinine numbers mean, Jesper. Speak proper. We have a guest.”
Jesper almost blushed at Inej’s side. She found herself entranced by this man she knew nothing about. “She fell from above.”
“Indeed,” Kaz said. He was unnaturally still. “So? Take her back up.”
“No!” Inej shouted. Jesper’s gaze fixed on her too, and he seemed a bit scared.
“No?” Kaz questioned. “Why would a wind spirit not want to go back to the lands above?”
“I’m indentured to Tante Heleen,” she murmured. “Please, I can help you.”
“Can you?” Kaz asked. She couldn’t let her eyes off him, either. His voice was a salty rasp, dead but safe. They stood in that silence for a moment, looking at each other, until Jesper cleared his throat.
“Kaz?”
“Put her in a guest bedroom,” he said easily. “Always fine to piss on darling Heleen.”
/
His name was Kaz Brekker, and he was greed’s guardian. Truly, he was the guardian of Hell, but few called him that. “Death does not bow to me,” he told her at breakfast the next day, a table length apart. He wore leather gloves and kept his cane close to him. It was topped by a crow’s head. Late at night, Inej had heard them flying around the palace. They were the only form of life she’d seen so far, though no wind followed. She was the faintest bit translucent. “Death bows to no man. But greed? It is my servant and my lever.”
Inej was a bit overwhelmed by it all. She was frightened of this new world, one of death and decay. She knew she did not belong. But she knew it was better than what awaited her above.
“How do you intend to help me, Inej Ghafa?”
“How do you know my name?”
“I make it my business to know all things,” Kaz said. “There is unrest in my fields, those of the deceased. You will learn why.”
“Why—”
“Yesterday,” he said, “you came with Jesper, bells on your ankles, bracelets on your wrists. I could hear my enforcer from a mile away, but not you.” He leaned close to her, several bodies apart. “Spy for me, won’t you?”
Inej made a deal with the devil. She had faith in him, for whatever reason. His eyes were black as dirt. They were cold. They were home.
Inej saw Jesper occasionally. He ensured that she had basic necessities, and he toured her around the land of greed. She saw rubies growing on trees, diamonds blooming from the ground. She met shades, those who had died centuries ago and entered the land crying for the saints she knew were above. The more days and weeks she spent here, the more see-through she became. She was almost afraid she would become one of them.
She made herself silent and danced through them. And when she knew what they spoke, she went back to the palace. She went to the river. She went to valleys and canyons, and she learned of the guardian of this Hell. She found peace in the darkness, in the stillness.
Kaz Brekker was a true  demjin, she was told. She was told he started wars himself, when he grew tired. She heard he controlled all the riches and corruptness above her.
She believed it, too. She ate twice a day with him, and then he did whatever demons did as she wandered the terrain of his domain. They spoke only occasionally. He tended to stare into her soul, and those looks always said more than words. Inej was a wraith, a ghost, but Kaz made her feel solid and seen.
One day Kaz Brekker asked her if she would like him to take her to the shadow fold. “You’re curious,” he told her, as though he could see inside her and also right through her. She wondered if he could. “It’s intriguing.”
So they’d gone on a walk through something dark and damp, sapphire-studded weeds carpeting the ground under their feet. The air was moist and still. The fold was somehow darker than the rest of this world, and it frightened Inej. As they stood at its precipice, she grabbed Kaz Brekker’s gloved hand.
She had seen him shy away from Jesper’s touch, seen him stay feet away from her. But when she held his hand that day, he didn’t let go. The next day he was not at breakfast, but there was a bouquet of flowers in front of her, studded with orange opal. Inej had never mentioned to Kaz her favorite flower.
/
The walks became a daily occurrence, and she slowly started to wring fragments of humanity from this immortal. Kaz Brekker enjoyed drinking wine and his work, the guardian of the souls of the worst kind of men. He was sure of himself as a monster. He asked her twice as many questions as she asked him.
If she wrung humanity from a demon, he wrung personality from a shadow. He brought her up into what she once was—until she remembered the wind spirit again. Inej talked of flowers and her friend Nina and how she loved dancing across rooftops. She talked of her parents and her siblings and the freedom of the air. Kaz seemed to drink her in, with his menacing, freeing gaze. He knew her. He saw her.
Once, she asked him why he wore gloves, why he avoided the river at the entrance of his realm, and why he used a cane. He only explained the latter, only said there was strength in being broken.
They didn’t touch. Inej grew used to the feeling of leather around her palm. Kaz seemed aloof, but he grasped her translucent hand through his clothing as though he never wanted to let her go. And yet she never felt stuck, or alone, until—
Until one day she woke up to Jesper forcing her back into her rooms. He seemed frenzied, and Inej went back to bed only to crawl out through her window when she heard loud sounds in Kaz’s throne room. She sat at his window and heard a voice which seared her invisible soul. Pekka Rollins, indeed.
“You must return her. She is indentured—”
“And you would think that something I would consider? I am your safes and vaults personified. It’s meaningless.”
“The girl belongs to—”
“The girl belongs to no one,” Inej heard Kaz hiss. “Go tell your Tante Heleen that Inej Ghafa belongs to nobody.”
Inej slipped a little at that admission, right into Rollins’ eyesight. He looked at her slight, ghost-like body with his eyebrows afloat—as though he’d won something. “Come, little lynx,” he cooed at her. “You don’t have to stay in this land anymore, with this demon.”
“She doesn’t want to come with you,” said Kaz. Rollins laughed.
“Found a new master already, have you?”
“I belong to no one,” Inej repeated what Kaz had said.
“Little girl,” Rollins said. “You would stay here? In a land of no sky, of death and decay and greed? You are a free spirit. Come to the world above.” His eyes traced her figure. “You are nothing here.” 
She knew he was referring to her barely corporeal form. His words still stung deeply.
“I am freer here than I could ever be,” Inej said. And yet she knew the hard skies of Kaz’s world were dulling her sensibilities. She didn’t want to leave; but she would have to soon, if she didn’t want to fade into the fold itself.
Pekka appeared as though he had more to say, but Kaz stood up in protest to his unsaid words, ghosts in the air, leaning on his cane, something truly—truly  demonic in his eyes. “If you do not leave now, Pekka Rollins,” he said, “it is your mortal son who will suffer. Kaelish, isn’t he?”
The man left. His words stayed in the air. Inej was in a nightgown and Kaz was dressed like a monster, but she felt as though she had the power in the room. His gaze did not fall away from her. “He was right,” she said. She was fading. 
“I know,” he said. He stared at her enough to know that she did not have much time left before she became invisible. “You would never be able to pay off your indenture.”
Inej knew this. She knew that he could give her all the riches of his realm, and she would never pay off her indenture. “I have no choice.”
He walked across the room and pressed a gloved hand to her cheek. “Greed is my servant,” he said. “And my lever.”
The walls started shaking, and Inej fell away from Kaz. She could feel leather on her face. 
Then she saw darkness, and nothing more.
/
Inej woke up in a field of flowers. They were jeweled, and they were orange. They smelled like dirt and decay. She wanted to spend the rest of her life in that field. She lifted her hand and saw herself, all of herself.
When she stepped forward, she was back home. She heard the news soon afterward, that the entire Menagerie had fallen into Hell. That the guardian of greed had taken the woman who loved it above. That the girls forced to be animals were free.
Inej was home, and yet she was not home; how did she explain to her people of the air that she yearned for a place with croaking birds, cloaked in darkness? She did not—Kaz Brekker made it his business to know all things. It was six months later that she found a fresh geranium in a field of flowers outside of her cottage.
She fell again. This time she didn’t fall into water, but the open embrace of a demon without armor. She thought she would fall forever. She thought she could find peace.
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Note
By the end of avatar it's pretty clear that the gaang have no problem with/are friends with mai (suki playing pai sho with her, katara watching, sokka including her in his picture) so I was wondering how you think mai and the gaang's relationship developed from the coronation to the end scene
“This is Mai,” Zuko said. “My girlfriend.”
The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Right. Mai kind of wanted to die. They were just… staring at her. She hadn’t expected a positive reaction, by any means, but no reaction at all…? Ugh. Little was worse.
“It’s nice to officially meet you!” Aang said, giving her a bright smile. The rest of the group followed with tentative waves and a few nods in her general direction.
The awkwardness might have gone on another five minutes if she and Zuko hadn’t been asked for by an advisor, cutting her introduction short. Well, Zuko had been asked for, and he’d slipped his hand into hers before pulling her along. So she hadn’t been given much say in the matter.
“They’ll come around,” Zuko told her later, when they were lying in bed. “You’ll see.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “They took me in, after all.”
Mai wanted to believe him. “If you say so.”
Sokka was first.
Mai saw him struggling to walk down the steps of the palace, awkwardly attempting to maneuver his crutches but wincing every time his injured leg hit the ground.
“Let me help,” she offered, lifting his arm around her shoulders to help take the weight off his foot. Perhaps she should have waited for him to give confirmation, but in some ways Sokka reminded her of Zuko - rarely willing to accept assistance, even when he needed it. He let her take his crutches, though, and she interpreted that as a sign of silent cooperation.
Sokka gave her a crooked grin when they’d reached the foot of the steps. “Thanks.”
She nodded curtly, returning his crutches to him. “It was no trouble.” She turned to walk away, but stiffened and stopped in her tracks as Sokka placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I, uh… This is kind of random, but I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for - for what you did at the Boiling Rock.” Sokka cleared his throat. “For saving us. Me. My dad. Suki. Zuko.”
Mai winced at the memory. The despair, the rage Azula’s eyes. The paralyzing fear that had ripped through her chest when she’d watched her friend - if Azula could ever be called that - drop into her lightning stance. And yet…
She’d do it again. A hundred times.
“I don’t think you should be thanking me for doing the right thing,” Mai said as she slowly turned around. “For doing the bare minimum, really.”
Sokka laughed. “Maybe you’re right. But from what I’ve heard, treason against the Fire Nation isn’t usually considered the bare minimum.” He hesitated, then offered her a grateful smile. “I mean it, though. If you hadn’t saved us…” Something akin to grief flickered in his eyes. An expression that was a little more raw, a little more tired. “I can’t lose anyone else,” he finally said. “So thank you, Mai.”
Mai stared at him in perhaps more shock than was necessary, because Sokka laughed again.
“Can I hug you?” he asked. “It’s kind of an official thing to dub you as part of my friend group.”
Mai hesitated, but nodded, and Sokka shuffled forward to pull her into a brief, tight embrace that Mai was surprised to find herself returning.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a hugger,” she said after releasing him.
Sokka chuckled. “For a long time, I guess I wasn’t.” He winked at her. “But things change, right?”
She supposed they did.
Aang was second.
Mai wondered, perhaps, if he would have been first, had his duties as the Avatar not taken up so much of his time, especially in those first days after the war had formally ended.
“Hi, Mai!” Aang said cheerily, waving at her from atop his bison. “Want to take a ride on Appa with me?”
Mai glanced around her, as if someone else named Mai would appear from behind a pillar to take him up on his offer. When none did, she responded with a hesitant nod.
She wished Zuko was there.
“Do you need help getting up?” Aang asked as she walked towards him, pausing when she reached Appa’s side. “I can provide a boost if you need it.”
Mai raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk unwittingly inching onto her lips. “Could you provide a boost even if I don’t need it?”
Aang returned her smirk with a wide grin. “Your wish is my command, Lady Mai.”
Mai was mortified to admit that a startled yelp escaped her lips as Aang airbended her up and onto Appa’s saddle, but he didn’t comment on it. She supposed he was probably used to that sort of sound being an instinctive reaction.
“Ready?” Aang asked. He didn’t wait for her to respond before gently snapping the bison’s reins. “Yip yip, Appa!”
He reminded her of Ty Lee in that respect - never waiting for an answer unless one was truly required.
Appa roared and took off into the sky. Mai kept her eyes squeezed shut for longer than she’d care to admit.
After the initial anxiety of flying higher than she ever had in her life faded, Mai found herself relaxing into her seat on the saddle, one elbow resting comfortably on the edge. Aang chattered aimlessly about post-war plans, and Mai commented every now and then if his ramblings had to do with Zuko. It was… strange. Everything about Aang caused a tiny smile to rest perpetually on her face.
No wonder her boyfriend was so fond of him.
“Wanna go higher?” Aang offered at one point, an excited twinkle in his eyes.
Mai didn’t respond at first, staring upwards at the endless pink sky. “Can you take me into the clouds?” she finally asked.
Aang laughed. “Let’s find out!”
Katara was third.
“I told you, Zuko can’t see anyone right now!”
Mai paused upon hearing the irritation that drenched Katara’s voice. She’d just turned the corner into the hallway that Zuko’s room was off of, and, trusting her better judgement, chose to hang back.
Katara was staring down a tall man in formal robes - oh. Ew. Mai recognized him as one of Zuko’s more annoying advisors. Her boyfriend hated the man, too.
“Kata-”
“Master Katara.” She glared at the noble, and respect bubbled in Mai’s chest.
“Master Katara.” Mai relished in the discomfort of the man’s tone. “I understand that you wish to allow the Fire Lord as much rest as possible, but he has responsibilities he cannot abandon -”
“Zuko can’t fulfill those responsibilities immediately after a healing session!” Katara snapped. “How would you like if someone bandaged your broken arm and expected you to lift weights afterwards?”
The advisor stared at her in confusion. “But my arm isn’t broken.”
Katara placed her hand atop the flask that rested on her hip. “Not yet.”
Mai bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing as blood drained from the man’s face. He gave Katara a hasty apology and took his leave.
That interaction had certainly raised her spirits.
But no visitors…
Mai’s grip tightened on the ceramic plate in her hands. The cup of tea resting atop it quivered. If Katara said Zuko wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, then she would respect that decision. She was no exception to the rules just because Zuko was her boyfriend.
Besides, Zuko was probably fine. She didn’t need to check on him, she was just letting her worries get the best of her again -
“Mai?”
Mai blinked upon hearing her name called. Blood rushed to her cheeks when she realized it was Katara who had spoken. “Yes?”
Katara gave her a warm smile, gesturing towards the plate in her hands. “Is that for Zuko?”
Mai hesitated, but nodded. “Tea,” she explained briefly. “I… tried to make it like Iroh does.” She took a step backwards. “But I can bring it back later, after more time has passed -”
Katara laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Mai. Zuko would never forgive me if I didn’t let you in.” She tilted her head. “Besides. You know you’re always welcome.”
Mai’s grip on the plate slackened, and she found herself returning Katara’s smile.
Toph was fourth.
“Mai! Spar with me!”
Mai was startled by the sudden interruption, though years of practice prevented her from showing it. “Why?” She’d never been the earthbender’s go-to partner before.
“Because knives are made of metal,” Toph said, as if it should have been obvious. “I want to see if I can bend projectiles mid-air. Or at least better detect the path they’ll follow so I can earthbend a wall to block them.”
Mai raised an eyebrow. “And why would I agree to let you bend my knives?”
Toph grinned at her. “Who said anything about using yours?”
Mai’s eyes widened as Toph procured a large box from behind her back.
“We’ll practice with these. Don’t ask where I got them.”
Mai accepted the box from Toph, unable to stop the sharp gasp that escaped her lips as she admired the assortment of blades. “Alright,” she finally said, picking out a set of steel kunai. “I’ll spar with you. On one condition.”
“Name it.”
Mai spun one of the knives around her index finger. “Let me keep some of these when we’re done.”
Toph burst out laughing. “Oh, I knew I’d like you.” She smirked at Mai. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Suki was last.
They’d run into each other. Literally. Mai spilled all the papers she’d been holding, and Suki had immediately apologized before offering to help her sort back through them. She’d almost turned the girl down, but…
“I haven’t seen you much,” Mai commented as they were putting the documents into piles based on their contents. “Compared to the rest of Zuko’s friends, I mean.”
Suki shrugged. “I’ve been spending most of my time with Sokka and the Kyoshi warriors. We’re thinking about heading back home soon.”
Mai nodded. She placed a document about the differences between crowning a Fire Lord and a Fire Lady in its appropriate stack. She hesitated, then asked, “Does… Do you know if Ty Lee plans to go with you?”
Suki blew air out her lips. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I think she wants nothing more than to get out of the Fire Nation, but there are other days where… where I don’t think she can imagine leaving you and Zuko behind.”
Mai’s heart seized in her chest. Spirits, she needed to talk to her friend. New responsibilities after the war had kept them apart more days of the week than Mai liked. “I see.”
Suki offered her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry I can’t be more specific. I think I just” - she shook her head - “I don’t know Ty Lee well enough yet to read her and her feelings. The other girls had a chance to connect with her in prison, but I’d already escaped the Boiling Rock and was on the run with Sokka at that point, so I just… don’t have the same level of experience with her yet.”
Mai clenched the scroll in her hand so tightly she was half-concerned she’d tear a hole through it. “Speaking of prisons…” She licked her lips, her mouth having suddenly gone dry. “I… I wanted to apologize,” she continued after a momentary pause. Mai didn’t like how her voice had dropped close to a whisper.
Suki tilted her head in confusion, though there was a keen recognition in her eyes that made Mai wonder if she was merely feigning puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
“I attacked you and your - your kinswomen. When you were protecting Appa.” Mai smoothed the scroll across the table before placing it in its appropriate stack. She didn’t dare meet the warrior’s eyes. “We got you arrested and sent to the Boiling Rock. And - I know an apology doesn’t make up for that, but…” She forced herself to look upwards. There was no bitterness, no resentment in Suki’s gaze. It was kinder than she deserved. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve or expect your forgiveness, but - I’m sorry.”
Mai had hurt Suki the most among Zuko’s new friends. There was no changing that. And she knew she would never be able to make up for the months in isolation the girl had endured, either, no matter what she did. No matter how much she wanted to. Wished she could.
Mai didn’t blame her for staying silent.
Then Suki sighed, unfurling the paper in her hands. “I had mixed feelings about you. For a long time.” She skimmed something on the scroll before placing it aside. “On the one hand, you put me in prison. On the other…” She gave Mai a tentative smile. “You freed me from it.”
Mai’s heart skipped a beat. “That doesn’t make it fair -”
Suki laughed, cutting her off. “At this point, I don’t think ‘fair’ exists. Not after what all of us have been through.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But like I said. I had mixed feelings about you.” She gave Mai a soft smile. “I know how Sokka thinks you’re the funniest person to walk the Earth since his father. How Katara lets you visit Zuko after their healing sessions, even though she’s probably not supposed to. And spirits, Mai, the way Zuko looks at you…” She shook her head, winking at her. “You won my friends over a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before you won me over, too.”
An unfamiliar warmth settled in Mai’s chest, and a tentative smile inched onto her lips. “Thank you.”
Suki waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. And with you around, at least I won’t be the only sane person in our group anymore.”
Mai snorted, recalling an earlier incident of Sokka daring Zuko to eat raw tart batter while Toph egged them on. ‘Egged’ in two ways - both very different, but both equally frustrating. “Will that really make much of a difference?”
Suki snickered. “Maybe not for them, but…” She handed Mai a scroll to be placed on a stack too far for her to reach. “I think I’ll appreciate the company.”
Mai accepted the paper, and she smiled at Suki. “I think I will, too.” She placed the smoothed-out scroll in its appropriate pile. “Care to join me for a game of Pai Sho later?”
“Oh, count me in! That sounds like a great cooldown.”
Well… Mai wouldn’t describe Pai Sho in exactly that fashion. But she figured Suki would learn that on her own time, and chose not to comment. “I look forward to it.”
That night, Mai slipped into Zuko’s bedchambers under the cover of darkness, as she’d been inclined to do ever since his return to the Fire Nation. Zuko’s eyes lit up upon seeing her, and he moved to make room for her beside him on his bed. She sat down, and rolled her eyes but didn’t protest as Zuko wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into his lap.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked, nuzzling his face into the back of her neck. He asked her the same question every night, and every night she told him the same answer - no. Then she’d gripe about whatever little thing had irked her over the course of the day. It was foolish, yet cathartic, and she knew Zuko didn’t mind. He probably found it entertaining.
“You know what?” Mai mused, thinking back to the mixture of glee and exasperation that had crossed Suki’s face numerous times during their earlier Pai Sho game. “I think I did.”
Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Wow. What happened?”
Mai shrugged. Five faces floated through her mind, all people she’d grown to care for over the past few weeks. People who’d grown to care for her in return. “Nothing special. Just… spent a little time with some new friends.”
Zuko chuckled, and she had a feeling he knew exactly the people she was referring to. “I’m glad to hear it.” He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Don’t kill me, but…” She didn’t need to turn around to know he was smirking. “I told you they’d come around.”
Mai groaned. “Oh, shut up.”
“Make me?”
She sighed, turning around so she could properly face her boyfriend. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”
(Mai made sure to silence him before he could answer.)
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pretty-face-breaker · 3 years ago
Text
Need to Ruin Him
c.w. aftermath of torture, cleaning up wounds, bad caretaking, intimidation, manhandling, torture by rubbing brine solution into welts, sadism, begging
The spring mattress creaked as Emir clattered on top of it. 
“Take off-...” Pavel stopped, shooting a second look at his bare back, and audibly snorted. “Never mind, just… lie down and I’ll get things to make you look better.” 
Emir whined as he tried to curl in on himself although the loosely tucked bedsheet stopped his arms from getting far. Breathing deep, he took in a whiff of wool and the smell of decay from the old sheets. He could see the almost invisible black speckling against the green, this close up and through his tears. 
He wasn’t certain whether the shock of the whip-marks had worn off. He had only the vague understanding that his back hurt. There was dampness in his hair, the crooks of his body, and on his face but those quickly dried in salty tracks. Hardly there anymore.  
“Bet that’s the last time you’ll do that,” Pavel mumbled. He could see the residue of his crying, the swollen eyes when he turned his head. 
The General had spared no part of the exposed skin, it seemed.
Emir didn’t respond for a few moments as the quiet clutters of Pavel grouping equipment together filled the silence. Then, he lifted his head and the shift in breathing got the man’s attention. But all the abused boy was doing was pulling the corner of a pillow under his chin before he collapsed again. 
Pavel raked his eyes up and down the body, once. Inhaled slowly before turning to stack the peroxide next to the rubber bandage seal. He remembered this one had been produced with a rubber cover so it wouldn’t disintegrate as easily as the paper ones had and recalled how the camp had looked on as the supply trucks had filled in with the equipment during daily drills.
He had jokingly saluted one of the drivers who had turned and smiled. A bright row of pearly whites had peaked beneath the moustache before he had gone ahead and returned the gesture. The image of the ideal worker had been complete. 
Pavel had thought about that man for the rest of the week, inspired by the strength in the smile. 
Spinning on his heel, he returned to where Emir lay half-conscious. “Hey, Suleiman. Look at me.” 
There was a groan and shift. “Don’ call me that,” Emir protested weakly, although his voice was strained with pain and struggle to recognize where the two were. The view didn’t look like the flat one out of his bed with only an iron window and darkness. 
The mattress dipped as he sat. “I’ll call you Edward, if I really want to.” Pavel encouragingly drove the heel of his hand into the boy’s lower back so he jerked and cried out feebly. The faded softness of that pretty little cry made Pavel’s heart race a little and he grinned against his better control. “Sit up or I do that again.”  
Seeing no way out of moving, Emir sighed and winced his way to sitting, facing away from the blond man and his amalgamation of terrible-smelling instruments. Whatever chemicals those were, antiseptic, sterile bandages, they hardly smelled anything close to home. The word home and ‘стерильный’ met his mind at the same time when he threw a glance down to Pavel’s medical tray.
“Sterile,” he read. His throat scratched and the word broke in two. 
Pavel had been tearing open the rubberized protector of the bandages when he stopped with a little smirk. “Yeah. Although, you don’t usually need reading abilities here unless someone sneaks in one of those raunchy magazines.” 
Emir returned a mechanical smile as the rubber tore open until Pavel winked at him and it was then that he raised his eyebrows and broke into a heartier chuckle. Realizing that he had paid the cheap joke with laughter made him clench his jaw in annoyance. 
It was never his intention to get amicable with the enemy but he supposed this one was patching him up which made it easier.  
The bandages were out of the sleeve now - a roll of brown gauze, pin, and two sterile cotton pads. He did notice another thing though, and that was the unsealed opaque jar sitting next to all the bottles. Being close enough, he could almost catch a salty scent sharp in the air. 
A hand quickly covered the top when Emir glanced up. Only slightly taller than him, Pavel’s cheeky smile had transformed into something crooked and cornering. “No peeking now,” he teased. Then, the tone quickly dropped to threatening, traced with amusement. 
“Turn around and don’t make so much noise that people have to come up from an early lunch.”
Emir’s fingers were tightening around the sheets nervously but he didn’t want to give Pavel another reason to make him feel wave upon wave of the same agony he’d gone through minutes before. He exhaled softly and turned to lock eyes with the window, hoping he’d come across as ignorant enough of the jar. 
But what did he care whether he knew? All the better for that sadistic fuck. 
Emir didn’t expect the initial sting as Pavel dipped the cloth into the murky solution and lathered it across his back without warning. Fingers digging hard into the sheets, he squeaked and darkened instantly after, the noise being involuntary. A rumbling laugh made him shiver.
“Don’t worry,” Pavel eased him with his usual mockery of lightness. “This’ll do the trick for all those nasty welts, trust me.” Then, pressed the cloth deeper into one particular stripe that had sliced through him and rendered him speechless, killing the yell on his tongue as General Levkin had brought the leather down.   
The yell was alive now and ripped through his teeth. He was too fucking tired to try to choke them back and what harm was it really? Pavel seemed pleased with the pitch of his wrecked voice and he could alleviate the burning that was eating through his back each time the rag switched directions. 
He wasn’t cleaning, he was scrubbing him. 
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Argh-... Can you p-please go a bit easier?” He despised Pavel right now, for the pain before, the pain to come, and for rendering him to beg and refresh the dried tear tracks. Blinking quickly, Emir hoped he had caught the tears before they slipped. 
“How else am I supposed to disinfect you? You’re not the first to get whipped.” Pavel’s lilt coiled around his back and legs. 
“Just please-... a little- agh!” 
Emir dropped his chin into his collarbone and squeezed. The strain on his neck was awful. The brine's stench was awful and so sharp in his nose, he swore something would start bleeding soon. At one particularly brutal dig, he gasped and arched away. Pavel’s hand shot to his shoulder and yanked him back in an instant. 
“Stay still, you little shit,” he snarled. 
Emir feebly whispered back. “It hurts.”
Pavel wanted to break into a cackle and tell him that of course it hurt and call him a whole assortment of insults for not realising he was doing it on purpose. Though, amidst the torment, he saw the way his light brown shoulders shook from how hard he gripped the mattress. 
It was a satisfying sight, how hard he was trying to be quiet and then the next moment when he gave up and let his whimpers seep through teeth. A tug of war between his pride and just letting it happen. 
“Plea-... mercy,” Emir gasped at last. 
Pavel was mid-assault on another open welt when he stopped and let his wrist ease off, dropping finally. He choked out relief but the aftershocks of the salt still must have felt like fire. 
Not once during the whipping had he even given the impression that he would beg for it. Not once, and Pavel had been fully confident that the little soldier would wait it out like he did everything with a dormant tongue. Looking at Emir now, he knew that just a little more would have him sobbing and begging in that sweet, wrecked voice-
Mercy, mercy, mercy
“Have mercy, please, God, m-mercy,” Emir hissed again. His arms shook as he held back a ruined sob. “I don’t deserve this.” 
Pavel had stopped now. He was clouded with thoughts that weighed down his hands which were eager for another spin. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, whether for Emir to collect himself - if he could - or to have the thrill to hurt again, to push him over the edge. 
The need to ruin him never came while he was thinking. It left him with dull annoyance as he realized he wanted to leave Emir alone, no longer bloodthirsty. It wracked his brain, the longer he debated just continuing. 
He did deserve it and Pavel was entitled to do it. 
Besides, Emir would probably look beautiful. 
But he didn’t. He dropped the rag, saying nothing, and grabbed the alcohol bottle that was actually medically approved for use unlike his masterfully crafted brine solution. Dabbing some liquid onto a fresh cloth, he applied it gently to the welts but still got that thrill of joy when Emir flinched away. 
“Alcohol,” he corrected quietly. “Not brine.” 
Shivering from the cold and not the pain, Emir nodded weakly and straightened back into his spot. Another moment passed before Pavel was back to work and dabbing away at the redness until he felt the smell of antiseptic was strong enough and switched to the pads. Only two were available. One went on the worst laceration. 
The second, on the one he had created by accident. 
Emir was still shivering. 
He unrolled the gauze and began wrapping it around the boy’s ribcage until the width of all fifteen feet trickled away. The roll felt so much lighter in his hand when he was finished applying it and pulling the end tight. He flicked it to the end of the bed, liking the little thunk it made at the metal footboard.
“Done.” Pavel pushed the tray away from him and Emir gathered up the strength to move. 
“Thank-…” Then, a laboured swallow. “Thank you.” 
He didn’t respond. Emir looked beyond exhaustion. All he did was push his head gently down onto the pillow and let the rest of his limbs take their natural place for comfort. 
He sat there for a long time, watching Emir’s chest rise and fall in even breaths, the sharp stench of alcohol and brine lingering in his nose for almost an hour. 
-
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