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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years ago

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Title: If This Is Love, It's Forever {5}

Title: If This Is Love, It’s Forever {5}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Angst, Cursing, Heartache, Time Jump, Fluff, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of death, TW: Death Penalty, TW: Execution, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 13.4k {Sorry. I refused to split this up again}

Summary: When the dust settles you have to decide where that leaves you and Lewis. Is it love? If so, could it be forever?

Note: Our finale is here! The end of the road folks! I hate to end on an odd number (if you’ve been here long you’ll know why) but I think it’s time we stopped torturing them now. LOL. Thank you all for sticking through all 42k of this. 42k y’all. WOW. Y’all are amazing to me.

Note II: Look out for the one-shot titled “Smell The Roses” about this garden picnic and rose maze sometime in the future. It was too good to pass up.

As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

****NOT Edited/Proofread****

Previous: If This Is Love, I Don't Want It {1} | If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It {2} | If This Is Love, You Need To Mean It {3} | If This Is Love, You Gotta Ride For Me {4}

-Lewis-

He hadn’t felt like this since he’d been a young boy sitting in the headmaster’s office after he’d gotten into trouble for causing some sort of ruckus and was waiting to hear if he would be sent home for a spell of completely expelled. He’d always been lucky and had just gotten a few days home for his antics but right now he feared his luck had run out. He’d after all done more than caused a bit of ruckus. He’d knowingly slept with his boss’s daughter though the interaction or any similar to it had been explicitly forbidden in his contract. He’d then gone on to break said boss’s daughter’s heart. Oh, he’d caused more than a wee bit of ruckus. He may have blown up his entire career.

When things had begun he’d told himself to stay away from you because anything but professionalism was begging for trouble but the more he heard of you, the more he learned he liked. It didn’t take him long to develop an intrigue that turned to fondness then desire. The rest as they say was history. Now he might be history. He thought back over his long career in F1 and with Mercedes and all he’d accomplished thus far. Then he thought about all he still wanted to accomplish but for the first time, he didn’t feel an all-encompassing pressure to get it done. He felt calm as if he was satisfied with what he had done.

It was a strange feeling, a feeling he hadn’t quite experienced before, a feeling he only remembered when he’d made up his mind to genuinely pursue you then wholeheartedly commit to being with you despite the trouble it could and would bring him. He’d deemed you worth it and now, in the face of the end of his career, he still deemed you worth it.

“So. Let me get this crystal. Knowing your contract and how strictly forbidden any non-professional interactions are within the organization you purposely pursued the one person you absolutely knew you should stay away from. Is that correct?”

He clasped his hands tighter then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Hm. For how long?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How long did you pursue my daughter?”

Keeping eye contact with him, he answered, “A year, sir.”

Jordan looked shocked and impressed. “A whole year you deliberately broke the stipulations in your contract.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you went even further and deflowered my daughter, my one and only child, probably the future of this organization. You went and just—slept with her bringing her into your little—harem!”

“No sir.”

“No? So you did not deflower her?”

Sighing, he lowered his head for the first time, but then immediately looked back to your father.

“I did—deflower her, but I did not bring her into my harem. I do not have a harem sir and I did not know beforehand that your daughter was a virgin. I didn’t know until--.”

“If you had known would you have stayed away from her? If you had known the consequences of your decisions would you have allowed things to go this far?!”

Jordan’s voice boomed around the office. He understood that your father was furious about the situation and angry with him. He’d crossed a line he should not have but in reality, he’d come to realize that it was a line he was meant to cross because he was convinced you were the one.

Mr. Y/L/N, sir. I understand I crossed a line, I understand that to you I’ve committed a capital offense and I understand you are angry with me for my actions and what you may see as a blatant disregard for structure, rules, and authority, and I accept the consequences of my decisions, I accept whatever you decide you want to do with me because of it and I also sincerely apologize to you for how things have turned out. I am very, very sorry,” he calmly and clearly stated before taking a breath to continue. “However, I see now that there was no way that I would have been able to stay away from your daughter. It wasn’t possible from the beginning because what’s meant to be cannot be avoided and I believe that we were meant for one another.”

Your father stood behind his desk his eyes boring into his sifting through everything he was searching for the truth of not only his words, but his character as well. He was trying to figure out what kind of man he was and if he liked that man. Long minutes stretched with silence and with each minute his anxieties increased.

Jordan sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose then turned to the expansive windows behind him that looked out over London.

“I am utterly exhausted. It has been the longest weekend and I fear there are many more to come.”

He felt bad for the man. His world had crashed on him those years ago when your mother passed but had utterly caved in now with his realization he’d been shacking up with his 1st wife’s killer and had been played all these years. He could imagine how much he was struggling—how much you both were suffering.

“Y/N is all I’ve ever had, and I was supposed to protect her. I couldn’t but I refuse to fail her again,” he said.

“With all due respect sir, you don’t have to protect her from me. I have no intention of hurting her.”

Jordan spun around eyes red, “Yet you already have.”

He pulled out his chair, sat then sighed again.

“I didn’t mean to I was trying to protect her,” he rushed out.

Jordan scoffed. “Funny that seemed to be the running theme here. We were both trying to protect her but caused her harm.”

Jordan sighed long and loud then closed his eyes.

“What is it that you want Lewis? Why risk everything? Why risk your career?”

“I love her.”

Jordan studied him for a long moment.

“Why? So you can be one step closer to having Mercedes in your hands through her and making a real change in the sport?”

He scoffed. “I don’t want Mercedes. The reasons I love her have nothing to do with this organization or this sport. I love her because she’s seen everything, my worst and unfavorable, and still took a chance on me, she still fell in love with me while expecting me to break her heart. I love her because she’s the sun and the moon to me, the rise and set of every day. She makes me feel things I was always scared to, things I’d convinced myself I didn’t need in my life because they were risky and distracting. She’s shown me that truly loving is braver than driving a tiny car that goes upwards of 200 miles per hour. I love her because she never tried to make me love her and simply let me be who I am.”

Jordan scoffed again.

“I just want her, sir.”

“What if the only way for you to have her is by me ending your contract with Mercedes? What if to have her you have to end your career?”

Hearing those words he thought he would have felt panic, regret, or fear but he felt none of those things. Besides the tiny pangs of disappointment, he felt calm.

“So be it. I’m almost 40 many I started with have already retired. If it’s my time to go I’m all right with it. I’m not all right with not having her in my life.”

Jordan was expressionless as he took him in. “Okay.”

He reached into his desk and took out a single piece of paper and placed it atop the desk.

“Sign this. It’s your release from your contract and the organization effective within 1 month’s time at the close of the season. Once it’s signed I will approve of your relationship.”

He stared at the paper on the desk while he listened to Jordan explain what he would be entitled to and would have to agree to. All in all, he would be on the losing end as his contract wasn’t set to be up for another 4 years and he’d have to pay back most of the signed-upon salary, plus the perks and preplanned events and ops. It would be a nightmare to maneuver. It would really be like starting over, a life without F1.

Jordan placed a fancy quill-tipped fountain pen on the desk and waited for him. He didn’t hesitate, he stood and closed the space between the chair and the desk then signed his name on the stipulated line then took his seat again. Jordan looked impressed.

“Just like that? You didn’t even read it.”

“I trust you, sir. I always have. Plus it doesn’t bother me in the least to sign this. She’s worth so much more.”

Jordan slowly smiled then hung his head back. He took the paper off the table looked it over then stared at him as he ripped it in half, then ripped the halves into halves, and so on until the paper was nothing more than pieces of trash.

“Wha—.”

“Any man who would end his stellar career with little to no hesitation just might be worthy enough for my daughter.”

He was afraid to hope but the tendrils had begun to take root.

“Sir--.”

“This was a test Lewis, a test you passed. While I am angry with you for hurting my daughter I find myself sympathizing with you on just wanting to protect her. I don’t see your actions as vicious or that you wanted to hurt her. I think you made the wrong decisions with good intentions. I can understand a man of that caliber. You get to keep your career, however, that is all I can assure you that you will keep. Y/N is��her own woman and it is up to her what she chooses to do. I won’t stand in your way and give my approval should she decide to openly date you.”

His smile stretched but it only lasted a few seconds before his brain registered Jordan’s words on if you chose to be with him. He had no idea if that was something you’d choose. He knew how hurt you were, and he knew that hurt wouldn’t disappear over a weekend.

“Go on—get out of here. I presume you have plenty of groveling to do and her flight takes off from Heathrow in just under an hour.”

His eyes widened. “Flight?”

“You know Y/N, when the tough gets going so does she.”

Leaping to his feet he hurried to the door but stopped.

“Thank you sir.”

“Don’t make this another regret of mine Lewis. She is the only good thing left in my life.”

“I understand, sir.”

With that, he ran out of the office and through the building trying to get to his car. He’d had the foresight to drive rather than being driven today and now he was glad for it. Need for speed was more than a game for him, it was his life. Pressing the start button, he buckled up before revving his engine and swerved out of his parking spot in one move. Knowing the streets well he found his way to the motorway.

Once he saw open asphalt, he kicked the gear up and accelerated well over the speed limit. On average it would take almost an hour to get to the airport from where he was and he needed to get there in 30 minutes. He had no time to waste so he applied his F1 driving. He was risking a ticket, but it was another thing you were well worth.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

You glanced at your watch again and flinched at the pain that met you. You’d promptly checked yourself out of the hospital against the doctor’s advice even though you had 3 incomplete fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and low levels of so many vitamins that they were surprised you hadn’t crashed sooner. You insisted you’d be fine and would recuperate better away from a hospital. It took one hour at home for you to realize that you’d recuperate better anywhere but where you were.

4 hours later you were here waiting for the family jet to be fueled and serviced so you could take off. It couldn’t happen soon enough for you. It had been a hectic weekend with being hospitalized and having numerous detectives in and out of your room for statements, updates, and follow-ups. You’d told the story until you were purple in the face and hoarse. It hadn’t taken long for charges to be brought up not only for Aleeza but her stupid brother as well.

They were looking at several counts of attempted murder, bodily harm, kidnapping, murder itself, and more that stemmed from their whole life of crime pertaining to your family. The estimated punishment the detectives mentioned was 45 to life but depending on family feedback and feelings the death penalty could be possible for the vicious and egregious way they carried out their sinister murder plan for your mother. The one thing you knew was though you murdering Aleeza may not be what your mother wanted for you, death is what she deserved, and you would petition the judges to deliver that verdict. She had no right to continue to take any breath when she’d been the sole reason your mother had taken her last. You’d see to it that you watched it happen.

Keeping everything out of the press was a task and a half for your father and one that had practically greyed him within days. Every time you looked at him you could tell how guilty he felt. Everything from him oozed turmoil. You could tell he was broken but he couldn’t fall apart because he was trying to keep himself together for you. It was too heartbreaking for you to watch.

You bit your bottom lip, closed your eyes, then took several slow calming breaths. While the rage had passed you were now stuck with overwhelming sadness and pain and through all that your broken heart made it even harder to breathe. You knew leaving was probably not the best idea, you know it was your built-in defense mechanism rearing its head trying to get you to safety.

Since your mother passed you’ve been running and using travel as an excuse when really it was your need to distance yourself from whatever the source of the stressor was. Yes, you were leaving England to try to finish healing from the trauma of all that had happened but deep down you knew you were also leaving to put some space between you and Lewis.

While in the hospital you’d found a strange peace over your family drama. Yes, you were angry that your mother was deliberately taken from you but nailing the culprit to the wall had felt sort of cathartic like you’d personally gotten the justice your mother required. It made it easier to come to terms with your new reality. Since you didn’t have to work through that you found yourself thinking about your situation with Lewis.

Right now as it was, everything was still very much in the air. You’d come to terms with the reasons he’d done what he did, but you were still grappling with the fact he’d chosen to play Mr. Fix it all by himself rather than cluing you in so you could tackle it together like a real couple and real partners would. When you went down that path of thinking you began to doubt he was ever really committed or on the same page as you wanting to be your partner, and in something more than a hidden sordid affair.

Those thoughts led you to the large purple elephant in your head, the one that you’d ignored from the beginning. The elephant that was Lewis’ track record and all the rumors and whispers that followed him about his inability to commit and settle down, his penchant for no strings attached. After you’d told him you loved him and him not saying it back you worried that for him all you were was an illicit affair with the boss’ daughter, another attempt on his part for excitement.

His words that day at his Monaco house still echoed in your head.

“You knew what it was and what it wasn’t. You knew I didn’t do monogamy. You knew that wasn’t who I was. You saw the signs and the proof. Hell, you even mocked it right in my face. Yet you thought you could change me. You thought you were going to be different, thought you were not like other girls. Get the fuck out of here!”

His eyes had been so cold, so emotionless as if he were looking right through you without actually seeing you, without recognizing who you thought you meant to him.

“Yeah right! Let’s be real with each other right now Y/N. You knew what I wanted from the very beginning. You knew what it was I could and couldn’t offer. You entertained it. It’s your fault for thinking this was any different than what it was!”

He spoke his words so clearly, so precisely without one stutter or fumble. He spoke them like they were his truth, a truth you hadn’t wanted to face but feared in the deep recesses of your heart.

“Damn, that was a good line. Right? For fuck’s sake Y/N, I’d just cum harder than I’d ever cum before because of how amazing you felt. I was seeing stars. You can’t hold me accountable for any of that shit I said.”

Was it a line? Was it truth? What was real from fake? What was a show? What was reality? When lies become truths how do you tell what’s the truth from a lie?

“We’re here now right. The facts are simple, this is the life I want to lead now. I drive fast cars and like everything else just as fast.”

It was who everyone made him out to be. A playboy, a fuckboi, a down for a good time not for a heart. For so long so many women used him as a good time. They tried to see who would be able to get a piece of him or even make him commit and none of them were ever successful. They’d crashed and burned and been left with an incredible story to tell no one because of the NDAs but nothing more.

“It was a lie,” you whispered to yourself. “You were just another conquest. It wasn’t real.”

It was something you’d worried about for a while, then when he’d proved and confirmed it in Monaco it tore you apart. However, when he confessed his so-called love for you, it left you feeling nothing but turmoil. What was real and what was a lie? How could you trust him? Had you really even known him in the first place?

Your phone rang, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hello? Okay, thank you. I’ll be there.”

You ended the call, stood then took up your purse. “In 12 hours you’ll be on a beach far away from this—far away from him,” you assured yourself before you began walking to the door of the private waiting area where you were waiting for the jet to be ready.

This part of the airport was only for private jet access for landings and takeoffs and in order to get access to it you had to be on the list of frequent users. You bought the first row of magazines you saw then took the escalator down to the tarmac. Before you walked out the door you slipped your sunglasses on and took a deep breath.

The pilot, co-pilot, and the two attendants for the jet stood outside with pleasant and welcoming smiles on their faces. You were almost there, you said to yourself. Suddenly when you were mere steps from the lowered steps of the jet the loud rev of a motor drew your attention to your left. You watched as a low-sitting cherry red Lambo Sport quickly sped toward you. It swerved to the right in a messy and hurried parking job and just from the effortless move your subconscious knew who it was.

The door swung up and out stepped Lewis. He wore his dark sunglasses as he looked around. When he looked in your direction your belly did backflips.

“Shit,” you rushed out.

Your head told you to keep moving and get to the jet but you stood there motionless. Lewis took quick steps to you closing your window for escape within 6 or 7 strides. You hardly registered him standing there before you with his sunglasses off and lips moving with no sound. It wasn’t until you realized he was holding your hands did you snap out of your stupor.

“Y/N.”

You looked down at your joined hands then pulled yours back while widening the space between you.

“Em, uh—what’re you doing here?”

You saw the disappointment in his eyes from your actions, but you ignored it.

“Um—your father told me where you were.”

You scoffed then shook your head. “Ha, I see the great Lewis Hamilton is above consequences for his actions. Of course.”

You began walking again but Lewis slid in front of you blocking your path.

“No. I actually got a text from your dad about the long list of consequences for my actions. Consequences that I’ll be going through for so many months.”

You nodded. “Ah, there it is, regret.”

You stepped around him and continued walking. However, again, Lewis crept in front of you stopping you.

“The only thing I regret is hurting you.”

You studied him for a moment and in that moment your heart softened. Fighting it, you stepped around him and continued, “One regret in life, most would be jealous.”

“I didn’t say I have only one regret in life. I have a few but the only two pertaining to you were hurting you and not telling you how much I loved you sooner.”

That had you stopping in your tracks. You fought with everything in you to not look back at him and it was one of the hardest fights of your life.

“I’m sorry angel eyes. I’m so, so sorry. I should have told you the minute I knew I was in love with you. I should have told you that night in New York when we were at the Empire State Building. I should have said it after I told you that you make me want forever. I should have never chickened out and told you that night we made love, I should have told you freely often, so you knew just what you meant to me.”

You felt his heat behind you telling you he’d crept closer to you. When he stepped in front of you, you didn’t move this time. The war within you had picked up and it only increased your pain. Your tears suddenly rolled down your cheeks pooling around the rim of the sunglasses you wore. Your glasses were so dark you knew he couldn’t tell you were bawling and you wanted to keep it that way. If only your bottom lip would listen. You felt its slight tremble increase to full-on quivering.

“I know you’re angry with me. I know with everything that has happened and my mistakes you—you may even hate me and that breaks me in ways you wouldn’t even understand. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away and work through it together, I’m sorry I went ahead and made the wrong choices. I’m sorry for the things I said, I’m sorry for how it looked. I’m sorry for all of it.”

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you tried to steady it, but it was useless. It was like the harder you tried to keep the tears at bay and your features neutral the more your body rebelled.

“I love you and I don’t want to lose you. This whole time I realized I’m terrified of losing you. Terrified you’ll walk away and decide that I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I’m terrified you are going to decide we shouldn’t be together and the thought of that is just—painful. I don’t want a reality we’re not together in.”

Lewis stood there searching the lens of your sunglasses as if he could really see your eyes. You could see the desperation in his and it made him look frazzled. You could tell he hadn’t planned any of this. He was spitballing and hoping something hit home. This was so out of character for him. This was a man who planned everything, he had the foresight of a wizard and saw an exorbitant amount of possible futures that he seemed prepared for all of them. This couldn’t have been the one situation he never saw coming. Could he really mean what he was saying? Part of you didn’t believe it and the other part was too afraid to believe it.

“I don’t want to waste any more time Y/N. I love you, I want you and I need you in my life and I will do anything to make that happen.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” you managed to get out.

Lewis’ brow crinkled as his confusion set in.

“I don’t believe that Y/N. You don’t even sound like you believe it.”

You dug your nails into your palm and the pain from it allowed you to regain control of your legs. However, before you could step around him, Lewis was reaching for your glasses. He lowered them down your nose bridge revealing your flooded eyes then slid them off completely showcasing to everyone around that you were bawling worse than a toddler.

Lewis took a step closer as he called your nickname in the softest voice, a voice you nearly buckled to. Nearly. Taking a few steps back, you avoided his eyes and wiped your face.

“You don’t mean that,” Lewis said his voice low.

“What don’t like that answer? I don’t know why. You were the one who said that you didn’t do monogamy and that I knew what you wanted from the very beginning. That I knew what it was you could and couldn’t offer. That I entertained it and you taking what you gave no complaints and that it’s my fault for thinking this was any different than what it was. That was you.”

Lewis took another step to you trying to touch your hand. “Angel eyes.”

“No, you said this was the life you wanted to lead. You drive fast cars and like everything else just as fast. I heard you.”

You stepped around him, but Lewis held your hand lacing his fingers between yours. They were clammy and it registered that it was probably from his nerves.

“Please don’t walk away from me. Please.”

You scrunched your face as fresh tears welled your eyes. “I don’t know what you want from me, Lewis.

“I want you.”

“I don’t know if I can trust that—trust you.”

“Because of her.”

“No. Look I understand what happened. I understand you were stuck between two impossible decisions, two decisions a normal person wouldn’t have to ever make. I get it. I’m not upset with you because you made the choice you did.”

“Then what?”

You spun to him ignoring the way he looked like a kicked puppy.

“It was easy for you. So fucking easy. You didn’t stutter, struggle, or hesitate. Everything was so effortless. The words you spoke, the way you allowed those women to touch you, the coldness in your eyes, the way you said the things you knew only I would get.”

Your emotions betrayed you and hot tears rolled down your cheeks. angrily you wiped them away hating how weak you felt right now. All the feelings of betrayal swamped you yet again and it felt like you hadn’t moved past it at all.

“It wasn’t. Fucking—it was the hardest thing I’ve done. It broke me.”

“No it broke me!”

Your shout bellowed over the open asphalt of the tarmac and it dawned on you that you were laying out your private matters where anyone could be watching or recording. Gathering your senses and emotions, you dried your tears and slipped your sunglasses back on.

“Ehm, I get why you did what you did. I even get why you chose that situation as the only one that I would believe, I get it. I just—,” you sighed then hesitated for a few moments. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”

Lewis sighed heavily then dropped his head back. When he took a step toward you as if he were ready to continue the debate you stopped him.

“I don’t know if I can trust the things you say or you, I don’t know what’s real or fake anymore and if I can’t know any of that I don’t think—there is no way that we can be anything to one another.”

“Y/N, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry. I just—I need to get out of here. I need to get away from--.”

“Me?”

“Everything.”

“Doesn’t it matter that I’m telling you I love you? Doesn’t it matter that I want to spend the rest of my life with you? Doesn’t it matter that I need you?”

Somehow his hand had found its way back to yours and unconsciously you’d laced your fingers as tightly as he’d laced his.

“I need time Lewis. I need space.”

It took a minute but slowly and reluctantly he unthreaded his fingers from yours until the only thing he was holding on to were your pinky fingers. It hit you then the last time he’d held you like this and that was when your tears really began. Your emotional state seemed to escalate his and he closed the space between you while gripping the life out of your fingers. It felt like he was trying with everything to hold on to you.

“I promise to respect you. I promise not to have you looking wild in these streets. I promise to value your thoughts and opinions. I promise to value you and your place in my life. I promise to have your back. I promise to be there for you when you need me. I promise to keep the past in the past. I promise to protect you. I promise to keep you in my heart. I promise it’s just you and me.”

Before you could begin wailing, you pulled your fingers away and hurried to the waiting jet so you could fall apart. Once on the jet, you hightailed it to the bathroom then let everything out that you couldn’t in front of him. Everything that you fought so hard to hold in, every fear, regret, hurt, and doubt rolled down your cheek and heaved off of your chest.

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

-9 Months Later-

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

The long tone of the heart monitors stuck with you. It was hours ago that you’d sat in the front seat of the viewing room as the final lethal cocktail was administered to the woman who’d ruthlessly and gleefully murdered your mother. It had been hours since you stared into her cold eyes with your calm ones as she took her last breath. It had been hours since you’d uttered the last words she’d ever hear.

“May you burn in hell for eternity with no chance of absolution.”

You took a deep breath as the sunshine warmed your skin. All around you, the chirps of birds and flapping of fish, ducks, and birds in the lake before you filled your ears. The peace you felt within you now was resounding. You’d used the months you were away for some deep soul-searching and deep cleaning of your mind and heart. You’d put in the work to center yourself and resolve the anger and hatred in your heart. It had taken months, but you’d accomplished it and were certain of it when you sat in front of Aleeza who didn’t look like she repented at all and didn’t feel anything but pity.

You took another deep breath and smiled as the scent of daffodils and ranunculus filled your nostrils. It felt like this was the first time you could take a real deep breath without feeling pain. Angling your head back, you opened your eyes and gazed into the sky from behind your dark sunglasses.

“Thanks for the beautiful day mom.”

Your phone rang but you ignored it as a rainbow stretched across the sky. Over the last 9 months, you’d taken the time to find joy in simple things like these. You’d found a newfound love for nature and the beauty and wonder of a new day. Whereas you’d hated sunrises before and only cherished sunsets, you found a new respect for them. You’d turned into an early riser while remaining a night owl. Your entire outlook on life had changed and it felt like a true new beginning.

“The sun loves you.”

You turned to find your father’s smiling face. You leaned in close looping your arm through his.

“The sun loves us. Look this is the sunniest spot in the park.”

He glanced around and nodded.

“1 to 10.”

You watched two swans on the lake gracefully cruising by in complete peace.

“9,” your replied.

Your father nodded.

“You?”

“9.”

You stared at each other then smiled. Two weeks after you’d left he’d followed you and had remained traveling with you for the last 9 months. It was time you were so grateful to have had with him. You both needed the change of pace and time to heal and perhaps your healing was easier with each other. From the very beginning, he’d taken a liking to asking you to gauge how you were on a 1 to 10 scale and gradually it had gone from 1 to a 9. Neither of you ever went past a 9 because nothing would ever be perfect without your mother but 9 was good enough.

“You’re right this is the sunniest spot.”

“It’s mom. She’s at peace,” you replied.

You both stared at the sky in silence.

“Maybe she’s letting you know it’s time for you to find peace.”

“You too dad.”

Your eyes met as both of you thought over your words. He nodded then wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“You are my peace. I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too dad.”

Again, your phone rang and again you ignored it. Nothing was more important than this moment.

The next morning while you were sitting with a tall mug of caffeine, your iPad, and the sunshine bathing you, you found yourself scrolling through Harrods and filling your cart with the newest and best trends over the last 2 months and racking up a hefty grand total. You were so lost in your happy place that you almost tuned out the sound of your ringing phone. By the time you reached it, you didn’t bother checking the ID.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Hello?”

“Uh, hi. It’s me. Who’s this?”

When you heard the name of Lewis’ sister you froze.

“Uh. Say again.”

There was no mistaking it was her. You’d spoken to her several times and even spent a lot of time with her and the rest of his family. The first time you’d vacationed with them you asked if she was sure she was all right with you being around her children and she said Lewis would never have brought you around them if he hadn’t trusted you to be 1, a good person, and 2, someone important.

“Hello?”

“I—I’m here.”

“I thought the line got disconnected. I’m sorry to just call you out of the blue but I was hoping that we could grab coffee and scones.”

“Uh. With me?”

“Of course silly. Are you busy? I’ve heard you’ve been traveling for a bit, so I don’t know if you’re back in England.”

“Um, I just got back in town actually.”

“That’s great. Can you squeeze me in?”

You didn’t want to be impolite and ask her why she’d chosen you to want this coffee and scone with, but you were very curious.

“Well—uh--.”

“No pressure. I promise.”

You sighed then resolved to your fate. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

“Great! How about later at Minnow? Maybe noon?”

“Today? Oh um, sure. I’ll see you there.”

You ended the call but still stood there confused as to why she wanted to have coffee with you at all. Surely she knew what had happened between you and her brother. Surely she knew that the two of you didn’t have anything to talk about. Then it dawned on you the possibility of her not knowing what had happened. It would be a Lewis move to keep everything away from them after all. It didn’t take you long to abandon thinking about it and go back to shopping. However, as you shopped your mind did wander to her potential reasons for wanting to see you.

By the time noon rolled around you stepped into Minnow and looked around the small but charming coffee shop. Toward the back where the flowers hung down overhead, you spotted her waving you over with a bright smile. You made your way through the shop politely smiling at those you passed until you stopped in front of her.

“Hi,” she said before she threw her arms around you with so much enthusiasm it took you completely off guard.

“Um, hi. How are you?”

“I’m well. My goodness you look gorgeous.”

You removed your sunglasses and fanned her off. “I’m not all of that. Now you, stunning.”

She giggled and then sat. You took off your light trench, draped it on the back of the seat then sat in front of her.

“This is beautiful,” you said trying to ease the awkwardness.

“It is. One of my favorite stops.”

A waitress came by to take your order and she ordered a platter of scones and croissants in 3 different flavors for the table with her coffee. You recited your semi-specific order while thanking her. When it was just the two of you again she smiled at you.

“How were your travels?”

“Good. I love to travel, and this round really served its purpose.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”

You nodded, then asked about her family and the kids.

“They’re wonderful. The kids are doing amazing, growing so fast I can’t stand it. Mum is healthy and enjoying every bit of her life. Everyone is great. Well, almost everyone but that’s neither here nor there.”

When she said it she looked away which made it pretty easy to know who she was referring to. At the mention of him probably not being all right, you felt your heart rate increase. You wanted to ask how he was but you also knew it was probably not a good idea. Then you doubled back and questioned yourself why it wasn’t a good idea. There was no way he was doing bad because of you, right? That possibility swirled around your head until you realized you’d stayed so quiet you hadn’t been listening to what she was saying.

“So that’s what brings me here today.”

You did your best to keep your face neutral while somewhat engaged to hide the fact that you hadn’t heard a word of what she’d said.

“Do you agree to it? Will you?”

You sat there completely lost as to what she’d asked you.

“Um.”

Just then, the waitress returned with your items. She carefully placed them on the table then walked off to where she’d come from. Buying yourself more time, you took a timid sip of your beverage and took the extended time to swallow it.

“Y/N?”

“Hm? Oh uh—yeah.”

“Yeah? You will?”

You nodded and hoped you hadn’t agreed to something torturous. She lit up and clapped her hands together. “Yay, that’s wonderful. I know she’s going to love having you there. Since meeting you last Thanksgiving she really took a liking to you. She talks about you all the time and when she watches the women’s F1 she is glued to the screen for all of your interviews. She is going to be overjoyed to have you at her birthday party. The big 8!”

That’s when you got it. You’d just agreed to go to her daughter’s 8th birthday party. Oh shit, you thought while trying to not appear as panicked outside as you currently felt.

“I was so worried about asking you. I for sure thought you would say no or make an excuse as to why you couldn’t come. I’m relieved.”

“I’m flattered by the invite. I had no idea she liked me.”

She snorted, “Liked you? Since the last time she saw you, she’s been asking Lewis about you. Where is Y/N? When will she come by? Will she be here for Easter? Can we go get ice cream with Y/N? Can we go with you to the track maybe Y/N will be there? On and on and on, she and her brother. You’ve made an impact.”

You smiled as warmth filled you. You’d had no idea.

“Kids are pretty straightforward. They run off of vibes and are usually great judges of character. From first meeting you that was it.”

Your smile widened, “Your kids are above average human beings, so I’m flattered.”

She smiled clearly eating the praise up. For the next several minutes, you both drank your drinks and sampled the scones and croissants while making small talk. Slowly your nerves died down and you began to relax. This wasn’t nearly as bad or awkward as you’d expected, you said to yourself as you finished all the croissants almost an hour into the coffee meet.

She gave you all the details for the party and even some insight into her latest obsessions so you didn’t have too hard a time finding a gift. Once you’d finished your drinks and ordered another to go, you settled the bill and prepared yourselves to leave. Before either of you stood from the table, she placed a gentle hand atop yours.

“I wasn’t going to do this because I don’t want to be that sister who meddles in their siblings' affairs. I was just going to bring up the party and catch up then be on my way but sitting here with you I picked up on a few things and want to get one thing said if I may.”

Every single one of your nerves came back then. You sipped from your to-go cup preparing yourself, then nodded.

“By all means, unburden yourself.”

She nodded then took a few moments before she continued. “I love my brother. For a long time he was the baby in the family and in some ways still is the baby even though he’s a grown man. I’m sure you understand why.”

You smiled softly and nodded.

“I want him to be happy. We all do. He deserves it more than anyone I know because what the public, press, and fans get wrong about him is what we know about him. He’s a kind, sweet, giving, and a gentle soul who wants the best for even the smallest ant.”

You could see her getting emotional and tried to remain indifferent. “He is so deserving of love and I want him to have what I’ve been blessed with. I’m not saying this to guilt you into being with him again. He told us what he did and took the blame for the way things are between you. I hold no grudges or ill will toward you for it. Sometimes he can be a daft—bugger and do the stupidest things all with good intention.”

You scoffed and took another sip from your cup.

“I also know that you were the second woman I’d ever seen him fall in love with. Like actually. We all knew it before he said a word. In his nearly 40 years, you’re just the second but you are the first who truly saw all of him and accepted it. With the first he didn’t have this reputation this larger-than-life persona there was nothing to overlook. Now there is a lot more and you saw it going in, played with caution, accepted him, and had the genuineness to love him back.”

You looked away from her then, but you still listened.

“I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or twenty about love. I know running from it never works because you’ll run your marathon only to end up in a different place with the same thing you’d run from staring you in the face. I know pretending there isn’t love where it resides is also a fool’s errand. Pretending will only bring pain, stress, and unhappiness. I know that letting something go only to have it wait for you and remain yours means it is and has always been yours. And last, I know that one should never just throw love away, not the love plenty spend a lifetime trying to find.”

You smirked and nodded. She stared at you as if to really drive home her point. You smiled. “I understand.”

She nodded again, “I understand if you change your mind by the day of the party. I get it and I won’t hold it against you. I won’t tell her and leave this completely in your field.”

You reached across and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

She smiled and stood. You followed suit then walked out of the shop. The two of you hugged and said your goodbyes before going your separate ways. Once in your car you sat there for a few minutes and allowed yourself to settle. It was something you’d learned over the last several months. Giving yourself the time to be was important. Once you’d come to terms with it, you made your way back to your condo. You were in need of a long soak in a rose milk bubble bath.

~~~~~~~~~

-Four Days Later-

You inspected your outfit in the mirror from every angle. This was your 4th possible look and like the others before it, you found fault with it. This one didn’t make your thighs look good enough. You groaned, then began stripping as you approached the next possible outfit. Your walk-in closet looked like a tornado had hit it and there were no survivors. You took another sip of your Mai Tai and moaned.

Once you were in the dress, you used your gadget to zip the back of it then took another sip from your glass. The white looked good against your skin and the fit showed off your curves. The only thing you worried about was the eyelet cutouts scattered across the dress and the low plunging neck.

“Is this appropriate?”

It made your breasts look incredible, but it didn’t feel like the right choice for a child’s birthday party. Groaning, you kicked off the heels you’d been wearing and dropped into the pouf that was beside your jewelry display.

“Am I over thinking this? I am aren’t I?”

You dropped your head into your hands and took a few minutes to pull yourself together. You recited your daily mantra that you’d been saying for the last 9 months and centered yourself.

“It’s just a party, Y/N. You are tripping for no reason. It’s not a big deal.”

On the one hand, you knew what you said was true but on the other hand, you knew you had reason to freak out. 9 months was a long time. You’d purposefully stayed away from any news, gossip, and or coverage related to him. His name was a tag you put on every social media outlet and any notification setting so that you didn’t mistakenly get any sort of update relating to him. By the 3rd week, you’d put his number on the block list just to be safe. It wasn’t that you thought he’d call you didn’t want to risk calling or texting him during a moment of weakness and confusion.

Even since being back in town, you hadn’t taken the restrictions off. You’d mainly remained inside your condo so bumping into him wouldn’t be possible. Your social media settings were the same, so the only worry was hearing something on Sky Sports or some other sports channel. You’d been lucky so far. However, out of sight did not equate to out of mind. If he were paid for how often you found him on your mind, he could have become a millionaire off of those thoughts alone.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a bubble gum pink fabric sticking out of its row of similar colored items. Once standing before the row you took the item down and smiled. It was perfect. With a smile, you stripped off the look you wore and put on the long pink maxi dress that screamed effortless, comfortable, chic, fun, and just a hint of sexy. When you spun and checked your reflection from all the necessary angles you nodded. It was perfect.

Almost an hour later you rolled through the heavy security check at the venue. You’d been here once before with Lewis and as you waited in the line of cars the memories from that day played in your head. The surprise picnic had been a sweet date but the fact that he’d shut the entire garden down for the day made you melt further. You gave your name to the guard and watched as he checked his device. He smiled then nodded as he pointed you to the way to go.

You sat in the car as you waited for a valet to come and get your car and the whole time you looked around for a possible exit. Before you could pull out of the line a valet approached your car. With a final breath, you gathered your clutch and the stack of gifts you’d brought with you. You thanked him then followed the laid-out path for guests.

Every few steps you stopped and allowed those behind you to continue because the memories were only bombarding you more and more. You were a tad bit more than fashionably late by now and you weighed your options of discreetly dropping off the gifts and going home rather than staying. You knew the longer you stayed the more the memories would demand attention.

“Ma’am? Are you lost? Can I help?”

The woman who approached you looked very friendly which made you bite your tongue in an effort to not snap at her.

“Um, I’m all right. Thank you.”

“Are you here for the Hamilton event?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Great. You’re on the right path. Follow the flower road and you can’t miss it.”

You smiled and thanked her. Following her instructions, you slowly followed the gorgeous path of flowers using the time to remind yourself of just who the fuck you were. All this excessive thinking was so unnecessary. With your head high, and shoulders back you approached the massive flower gate. Once you stepped through, your jaw dropped. She was right, there was no way you could miss this. Stretched out before you on the great lawn was a child’s dream. Inflatables, party games, food, and everything imaginable all complimented by massive flower designs. It looked incredible and perfect for a little princess.

Kids were scattered about socializing, playing games, and or losing their ever-loving minds probably hopped up on an excessive amount of sugar. Just looking at everything you could tell this cost a small fortune but it was so beautiful that you imagined nobody cared and agreed it was worth it. You wandered around the lawn taking it all in when to your right in the distance you caught sight of the massive flower maze where Lewis had once pulled you into. You’d played hide and seek and every time he found you his reward was a piece of your clothing. When he’d gotten you to your lace bra, you upped the stakes and turned the tables on him for the same reward.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to be left in your underwear. That was when the chase really began. When he caught you, he perched you against the edge of the fountain that was in the middle and had his 2nd dessert of the day which led to an adventurous and risky fuck right against one of the flowered hedges. You both came out smelling heavily of roses with leaves stuck to you.

The memory took you by surprise and nearly brought you to your knees. You didn’t know how it felt so fresh all this time later. You could still feel his lips against your pulse point and smell the roses that kissed his skin with every thrust into your core.

“For fuck’s sake!”

“Oooh, you said a bad word,” a childlike voice accused.

Your eyes flew open and to your shock, there was a little girl with sandy brown ringlet hair staring at you with a large lollipop in hand. She said it again and this time she said it very loudly. Looking around, you found everyone in the vicinity looking at you.

A high-pitched squeal sounded then you heard a miniature voice excitedly scream your name. Your head snapped in the direction and saw the birthday girl running to you like you were her most favorite person in the world. In a matter of seconds, she’d crossed the expanse of the great lawn and threw herself into you nearly taking you off your feet in the process.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!”

Her excitement was so contagious that you giggled along with her.

“Hi!”

“Hi, hi, hi, hi!”

You snorted as you realized she was just as hopped up on sugar as everyone else. You stooped down, placed the stack of gifts under your right arm on the grass then hugged her properly.

“You’re here! I missed you. I knew you’d come. I knew it, I knew it!”

You laughed at how quickly she spoke but it wasn’t a good enough distraction because you felt the prick of tears at her excitement to see you. It was something you hadn’t expected. You didn’t think you mattered at all to her since it had only been less than two years you’d been in her life. You didn’t think you’d made any impact but seeing the joy in her eyes and feeling the tightness of her grip on you, your heart melted.

“I would never miss your birthday. Oooh look at you, you’re gorgeous. Are you a fairy?”

She nodded, smiled widely then spun around so you got the full effect of her fairy gown.

“Wow, you are the most graceful fairy I have ever seen. The Pixie Hallow girls better look out!”

She giggled some more and any nerves you’d felt disappeared. Just as you opened your mouth to say something else a blur of blue collided into your right side tackling you to the grass.

“Y/N!”

Wasting no time, the birthday girl jumped on you until the three of you were a bundle of arms, legs, and material. You laughed so loudly that you were sure you’d drawn the attention of everyone from the actual entertainment. They both chattered happily firing question after question at you, not giving you any time whatsoever to answer them. When Lewis’ nephew began making fun of the bright girly colors he was surrounded by you tickled him making him squeal and wiggle.

“Y/N! You made it.”

You looked up into a grown pair of eyes similar to the minis currently sprawled across you.

“Hi. I did.”

“Oh my goodness, guys get off of her. She’s wearing such a beautiful dress.”

You fanned her off telling her you didn’t care about the dress. That was all the two of them needed to hear because they happily sat on you. Willow played with your hair while Kaiden poked at his sister doing what big brothers did well. Lewis’ mom approached with a bright smile.

“Y/N.”

“Mrs--,” you began before she cut you off and gave you a stern eye. “Em, Ms. Carmen.”

She held her arms out for a hug and that was when the kids got off of you. You looked around for your clutch as you reached a hand out. It rested in a warm one and instantly electricity shot through you. You snapped your head in the direction of the surge and came face to face with Lewis. That surge of electricity turned to a blaze as if a thunderbolt had released its wrath upon you. A wrath that had been charging for 9 long months.

You stumbled back down and his arm came around you steadying you and holding you against him. Your eyes remained locked on one another, and you didn’t know how much time passed as such. The heat from his hands seared your skin branding you, marking you as if to finally show anyone who looked just who you belonged to. Who you’d always belong to, a tiny voice in the back of your head muttered. A voice that had been getting louder and louder as the date of your return to England approached. This voice was not fucking around anymore.

The fluttering in your belly increased so rapidly that you felt like you were currently going down a massive decline on a rollercoaster. As your heart thumped louder than you could conceal you found yourself pressing closer to him. The shock in his eyes spoke volumes. He didn’t know you were coming but the tightness of his grip said it was a welcomed surprise.

“Look Uncle Lewis, it’s Y/N! She came for my birthday. I told you she liked me.”

Just like that the spell had been broken, but it was Lewis who pulled away from you quicker than you’d expected. As if he wasn’t far enough, he took several steps back.

“Of course she likes you. There is no one in this world who would not like Princess Willow,” Lewis said before he lifted her into his arms.

You turned your attention back to his mother and hugged her. She rocked you from side to side as if she’d longed for the hug for months.

“You’ve been missed.”

“You’re sweet.”

She pulled back, cupped your cheeks, and stared into your eyes.

“The same sad eyes I look into daily.”

Your smile slipped as you gathered her meaning.

“Ehm. Thank you for coming, Y/N.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

You turned for the gifts but found they had already been gathered for you. Two arms hooked yours and led you across the lawn. You smiled and said hello to those you passed as they led you wherever they wanted.

“I see someone got the invitation.”

You turned to see your father’s smiling face.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Of course coming to celebrate this little fairy’s birthday,” he replied.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“No. I decided to let the chips fall where they would and I see they fell just where I expected.”

You swatted at his forearm hoping to get him to change the subject. Flawlessly he did just that.

“Everything is beautiful.”

“Honestly, Willow told Lewis a theme and this came from his imagination.”

You smiled to yourself believing it. The man had a flair for extravagance but also an eye for things like this.

“I love it Uncle Lewis!”

“I’m happy to hear it. I’m going to keep making the rounds,” he said placing Willow on her feet.

Without another word, he disappeared into the crowd. You realized then that you could take a deep breath again. A snort escaped you because you were beginning to realize that fate was anything but subtle. As everyone scattered to mingle you stuck to your father’s side and walked around the gardens. You took glass after glass of rosé drinking them all down as you came face to face with memories that played so vividly before you like whisps of your former selves were acting out every event.

After an hour or so you found yourself awestruck with the interior that looked like an enchanted forest. He’d really dug into the depths of his imagination for this. Suddenly a thought hit you about how great of a dad he’d be. It was a thought you’d had plenty of times before and each time you’d found yourself picturing a little boy with his eyes and gap-tooth who loved go-carting and racing as much as he did.

“Honey, did you hear me?”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you’ve seen the flower maze.”

Several pairs of eyes drifted to you but one pair remained turned down glued to his plate.

“Um, yes I saw it.”

“It’s breathtaking, Ms. Carmen chimed in.

“You should go through it. Roses everywhere,” she added.

Lewis kept his head down while you struggled to string two words together.

“Should we go take a look?”

“No!”

Everyone looked at you strangely.

“I mean--.”

Lewis looked at you then and you knew he was thinking of the same thing you were.

“Em, I wore the wrong shoes today my heels will only dig into the grass more.”

“Plenty of people are barefoot, there’s nothing wrong if you do it too.”

“I’m no good at mazes, I’ll only get lost,” you attempted.

“Then take Lewis with you. He’s good at things like that,” Ms. Carmen added.

“I’m going to make sure everything is ready," Lewis said before he stood from the table and once again disappeared.

For some reason, you glanced at your father beside you but he was already watching you with a soft smile on his lips. He nodded his head almost in a reassuring way then went back to his meal.

After, you watched Willow and her friends dance around as the smoke machine went off and balloons fell from the ceiling. She was having the time of her life. Every so often your eyes kept drifting to Lewis who stood to the side also watching her. He hadn’t returned to the table and had kept his distance. Matter of fact he’d been doing it all day as if he didn’t want to crowd you. It made you feel strange, and you didn’t know why. You looked over him taking your time to trail over his outfit that you knew he’d put plenty of thought and effort into. It was a good choice, the simple white t-shirt paired well with his pale pink pastel patterned pants while the pastel yellow and blue patterned denim material jacket he wore pulled it all together.

When your eyes slowly raked back up his body you found him looking in your direction. You should have instantly looked away, but you didn’t. You kept eye contact and fully sank into the lightheaded feeling his eyes always brought. He slowly licked his lips and it felt as if you’d momentarily gone through menopause as a sweltering hot flash rushed through you. That was when you looked away and excused yourself from the table. With hurried steps, you walked back out onto the great lawn and then stopped. You bent, unbuckled your heels, and peeled them off then quickly walked in the opposite direction from the maze.

Ten or so minutes later you found yourself nearing the maze entrance though you’d tried to stay clear of it. Aggravated you about faced and hurried away. Lost in thought you wandered around the gardens with no clear direction in mind. However, a while later you found yourself right back in front of the maze.

“For fuck’s sake.”

You rolled your eyes then walked inside. If the universe wanted you to go in you’d ace the shit out of this maze. Slowly you made your way through the winding paths while trailing your fingertips along the roses. The deeper you went the stronger the scent of roses surrounded you. The headier the scent the more real the memories felt. By the time you made it to the fountain in the center, you knew this was your mother’s work with the universe.

When at the opposite side of the fountain you hopped up on the ledge and stared at the large hedge in front of you. There was nowhere to go in that direction, and it felt very symbolistic. You also had nowhere to go. It was as simple as that. You recalled the looks, the smiles, and the touches between you that day and everything else faded away. You smiled. The sound of your notifications had you digging into your clutch to see a message from your father.

MSG Dad: I meddled once and told myself not to do it again and I was going to end it there but then I saw your reactions to one another today and I think it would make me a bad parent if I didn’t meddle once more and show you this. Do with it as you will. I love you, sweetheart. Remember a man’s mistakes do not define him. What defines him is his character when no one is looking and when there is nothing to gain. And your fear should not define you. The depth of your heart and willingness to let love in could.

You sniffled then an airdropped file appeared. You attempted to tap it a few times but with each attempt, you chickened out. Your finger hovered over it for several minutes before you took a few deep breaths and tapped it. The file opened to show a video. You recognized your father’s office and as the audio began you realized it was your father and Lewis talking.

You watched the events of his meeting with Lewis the same day you’d left. With every word Lewis spoke, he did not sound like a worried or fearful man who’d fucked up and slept with his boss’ daughter. He sounded resolved as if he accepted his wrongdoings and was not interested in downplaying it or escaping ownership. For some reason not hearing him apologize for it made your chest swell. As the video played out and you listened to Lewis tell him with conviction how he felt for you the knot in your throat turned into a rock.

You watched as your father placed the documents on his desk and held your breath as you waited to see what Lewis’ move would be. You didn’t have to wait long before you watched him stand and cross the office to sign his name on the papers all without reading a single word. Instantly, you thought that was stupid of him. Everyone knew to always read things before you sign them especially when you were someone who had so much to lose. The video played out with your father ripping the papers and telling him where you were.

You’d always suspected it was your father who’d given him your location because he was the only one who knew it. Now you had confirmation. Your laugh began as a snort but soon turned to a full-on hearty cackle. You closed your eyes and allowed Lewis’s words to echo back in your head.

“There was no way that I would have been able to stay away from your daughter. It wasn’t possible from the beginning because what’s meant to be cannot be avoided and I believe that we were meant for one another.”

Your throat tightened with emotion.

“I love her because she’s the sun and the moon to me, the rise and set of every day. She makes me feel things I was always scared to, things I’d convinced myself I didn’t need in my life because they were risky and distracting. She’s shown me that truly loving is braver than driving a tiny car that goes upwards of 200 miles per hour.”

Your eyes pricked and stung.

“I’m not all right with not having her in my life.”

Your heart sped, thumping so loudly it filled your ears blocking out all other sounds.

"It doesn’t bother me in the least to sign this. She’s worth so much more.”

Your tears spilled over the rims of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. However, before the tears you’d cried were sorrow filled, painful, and heartbreaking. These were different. They didn’t carry the weight of the entire world in them. They were lite and comforting.

“I love her. I only want her.”

The butterflies in your belly took flight sending your entire being into a state of gleefulness.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes snapped open and like you’d wished him there, Lewis stood before you with a timid look on his face. When he registered your tears he took another step to you as his brows crinkled with worry.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

He grabbed your hand and your eyes dropped to it. Almost instantly he released you and stepped back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I—I just—you’re crying. I thought something was wrong.”

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand then took a deep breath.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” you said.

Lewis didn’t look as if he believed one word out of your mouth. He assessed you, searching for the hidden meaning behind your words but when you didn’t move to say anything further he nodded.

“Okay. Um, I’m sorry to—I didn’t mean to crowd you or bother you. I came for a walk, and you were here. I’m gonna go and you can go back to having your space.”

He turned and walked back around the fountain to the walkway. You watched him clench and unclench his fist and smiled. You knew the tick; he had plenty more to say and was trying to restrain himself.

“The funny thing about space is you want it so bad you can taste it and then you get it—a lot of it but suddenly and all at once that space becomes suffocating, uncomfortable, and even painful. Before you know it, you wake up one day and in the span of hours or minutes the space that you wanted becomes the last thing you need.”

Lewis had stopped but his back was turned to you. You waited for him to engage and prayed he would. You knew the ball was in your court with this but you also knew 9 months was a long time. You’d been apart and had no communication. You were practically strangers now. You had no idea where his life was let alone his head. What if he was over you? What if he’d decided by month 3 that he’d had enough?

“And what is it that you need now?”

Relief filled you. “A few things really. First I need to apologize to you.”

“For what?”

“I asked for space and time, and I left and didn’t look back. I selfishly left you in this state of suspended animation without thought or care and I am sorry for that. It was inconsiderate and selfish of me. I see that now and I’m sorry for it.”

“Ok, you’ve apologized.”

The reply wasn’t what you’d expected or wanted but his standoffishness was a result of your own. You understood.

“Is that all?”

His voice was cold, almost angry.

“Why would you sign away your career just for my dad’s approval of you?”

Lewis turned and looked at you. “What?”

“My dad showed me the video of your meeting.”

He scoffed. “I’m not doing this Y/N. I’ve said everything I could possibly say to you for you to understand why I would—how I feel about--.”

Lewis sighed then shook his head. “Let’s not.”

He turned again to leave, and panic filled you. Hopping off the edge of the fountain, you fully turned to him.

“Second, I need you,” you rushed out.

Your words stopped him, but they didn’t make him turn around.

“I want you and I need you. I’m sorry I had to leave to figure that out, I’m sorry I had to stay away so long to understand. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see it before or trust in you and what we had—could have. I’m sorry Lewis. If I’m honest with myself I’d figured it out after six months but that fear held me longer. The fear that you couldn’t be trusted, the fear that you were lying to me for some ulterior motive, the fear that I was being stupid and gullible and refusing to see the writings on the wall. I was so scared to risk getting my heart destroyed by you again and that fear kept me away, that fear kept me running from you but I’m tired of running and so done with it. There have been so many signs directing me to the truth, so many signs pointing me to you and everything we started. It came to the point where it was stupid for me to try to ignore them anymore. It was impossible.”

Still Lewis kept his back to you and the longer he did the more fear filled you, the same fear you’d been determined to let go.

“I know it’s been a long time and I know that I’ve hurt you probably almost as bad as you hurt me and I know that people change and things change. I have no idea where you are in your life now or who—you have in your life,” you said ending in a whisper.

Lewis spun around then. “Are you being serious right now? Who I have in my life?”

He looked at his wit’s end like he was seconds away from blowing up at you.

“What part of no matter what, from this day on there will be no one else. Just you. Even if you decide that you want nothing else to do with me, I will love you from afar, but it will still forever and always till my last breath, just be you, do you not understand?”

You stood there speechless and even that set him off.

“Like I don’t understand why it’s hard for you to fathom or why it hasn’t sunk in yet. I—love—you. I am in love with you. I want you!”

His voice boomed in the maze as he spelled it out for you. Your tears rolled again.

“I love you too. I’m in love with you too and I want you too,” you whined through your tears.

Lewis took you in for a few moments then he walked around to you.

“Say that again.”

You scrunched your face and allowed your tears to free fall. You didn’t care if he saw them or knew your weakness and vulnerability at this moment.

“I am head over heels in love with you Lewis Hamilton. I love all of you without reservation and without shame. I love you because you love me through my fear of you. I love you because since your cocky ass waltzed into my life trying to prove you weren’t like your old self I’ve never loved like this. I love you because you’d risk it all for me. I love you because through loving you I’ve realized that everything I doubted and didn’t believe in that was written in Corinthians is true. I love you and I want you, all of you completely, from this day for all the days.”

You knew you were full-on ugly crying in front of him with snot possibly dripping down your nose, but you didn’t care. Lewis’ glistening eyes overflowed.

“Fuck I should make you work for this but I’m such a fucking simp for you.”

Lewis rushed you then crashed his lips against yours setting off the fireworks behind your eyes and in your head. In the distance, a chorus began while instruments blared all to the rapid beating of your heart, a heart that matched the one that was behind the chest pressed to yours. Your lips urgently claimed his not being able to get enough of him.

When Lewis pulled away you stared at one another all the hurry melting from you. It was at this moment the two of you truly saw one another. There was nothing between you, no walls, barriers, fears, or hesitations. You were both all in. He kissed you once on your lips, then both your cheeks then your forehead before ending on the tip of your nose. His eyes then locked on yours.

His thumbs swiped away the rivers rolling down your cheeks before he kissed them. You felt tear drops softly land on your collar. When Lewis pulled back you saw they were his. You hooked your pinky fingers with his.

He smiled kissed you again then pressed his forehead to yours. You both stood there taking in the moment and the weight of the promises you’d just exchanged for the second time. They meant so much more now than they had two years ago.

“Your father gave me permission to date you in the open, you think he’d give me his permission to marry you?”

Your eyes snapped open, and you gazed deeply into his to see if he was serious. You found no humor in his deep mahogany orbs.

“I’m serious. I want to make you my wife, not my girlfriend. I want to refer to you as my wife, not my girlfriend, Mrs. Hamilton, and Y/F/N Hamilton, not Y/F/N & Y/L/N. I want to live with you under one roof, I want to make plans year after year. I want to start family traditions with you. I want to have a little girl with your eyes and smile who has me wrapped around her finger from her first breath. I want a son with your drive and forehead who knows from the first breath he takes he’s a king. I want a lifetime of loving you, supporting you, and being your biggest fan. I want a wife for life.”

“Are you—did you just—what’re--.”

Lewis dropped to one knee before you stunning you silent.

“Y/F/N & Y/L/N, do you love me?”

“Yes," you whispered.

“Do you love me enough to spend the rest of our lives together?”

You nodded, unable to find the words.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

His smile was the widest and brightest you’d seen in a long time. He stood and lifted you into his arms swinging you around as the both of you laughed.

“You mean it?”

“With everything in me.”

He kissed you again and again all over your face. When he wrapped his arms around you again, he whispered in your ear his lips skimming the shell.

“You make me want forever.”

You stayed there hidden as the sunset bathed you in its beautiful amber glow keeping you encapsulated in your bubble of joy and hope for new beginnings.

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

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #if this is love it's forever #if this is love series #black fanfiction

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

Mudblood

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Muggleborn!Reader

Summary: The complicated relationship of a pureblood and a muggleborn, shown through their time at Hogwarts

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, blood purity, angst, death, mentions of torture, all that kinda stuff

A/N: can you truly count yourself as a Harry Potter writer if you haven’t written something about Malfoy dating a muggleborn??? I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know what you think - hearing your comments always perks me up and inspires me to write more! Also this is a long’un so strap yourselves in!

First Year

Y/N Y/L/N wasn’t scared of Draco Malfoy.

It wasn’t because she was brave, or because she knew she could outsmart him or anything like that - nothing like the reasons so many Gryffindors and Ravenclaws gave to try and convince themselves that they held no fear of the Slytherin bully.

No, it was nothing like that.

In a way, she felt sorry for him.

Sometimes, it seemed as though he was merely parroting his father’s words when he spoke so harshly to people.

She had been scared of him - most Hufflepuffs were. Hufflepuffs were aware of the way that a lot of the students - Slytherin’s in particular - viewed them. Knew that they were often perceived as being the ‘lesser’ house. And being a muggleborn as well just seemed to reinforce the point that there was no way that Draco Malfoy and his band of Slytherins would ever allow her a single peaceful moment.

During her first term at Hogwarts, she had dreaded every lesson she had with Malfoy, who she felt went out of his way to make her and Justin (the other muggleborn Hufflepuff student) feel inferior to everyone else.

But it didn’t take her long to get over that initial fear.

It probably came from her friendship with Harry, Ron and Hermione. It wasn’t as though they were close friends, but after helping them out during Herbology class and studying in the library with Hermione fairly regularly, it was safe to say that they were definitely friends.

And any association with the trio was immediately seen as a red flag by Malfoy, putting an even larger target on Y/N’s back.

But after hearing the many, many, rather creative insults thought up by Harry, Ron and Hermione about Malfoy, it was difficult for her to fear him.

“Watch where you’re going, Mudblood.”

Y/N had collided hard with the floor, her books falling from her bag, scattering on the ground.

“You walked into her, Malfoy,” Ron piped up from where he had been walking with Harry, a little behind Y/N and her friends, all of them on their way back into the school after Herbology.

“Then she should have gotten out of my way, shouldn’t she, Weasley,” just one glance up at Malfoy’s face allowed Y/N to understand how happy he was to pick a fight with anyone - the fact that Ron was also getting involved only served to cheer him further.

There was nothing that Malfoy enjoyed more than aggravating Harry and Ron, goading them into a fight just so that he could somehow swing it to a teacher to place the blame on them instead, causing the loss of Gryffindor house points.

Harry had dropped to the floor beside Y/N, kneeling down to help her gather her books back up.

“Thanks,” she muttered with a small smile, standing up and watching the interaction of Ron and Malfoy, both of whom were getting more and more worked up. “Ron, just leave it,” Y/N called, grabbing the attention of both boys mid-argument.

Malfoy glared at her but Y/N ignored him, looking instead at her friend.

“It doesn’t matter,” she told Ron, who opened his mouth to argue, but Y/N cut him off. “It doesn’t matter,” she repeated more forcefully, looking to her Hufflepuff friends before walking away.

It was a surprise for Y/N when Malfoy approached her the next day, when she was sitting alone in the library, getting her Potions homework finished.

“Can I sit here?”

“You’re asking?” Y/N asked in surprise. She shook her head quickly before offering a slightly nervous smile. “Go ahead.”

Malfoy sat in the chair opposite, but didn’t say anything - instead he stared at her from across the table, seemingly deep in thought as he studied her.

“Did you want something?”

Malfoy glanced down at the parchment Y/N was writing her homework on, tilting his head just a little to be able to read it.

“You got question four wrong.”

“Oh - right.”

Y/N was still frowning in complete confusion at Malfoy’s actions.

“Seriously - can I help you with something?” She asked after they had sat in awkward silence for another five minutes at least.

“You never fight back - is it a Hufflepuff trait? Being a pushover?” Malfoy inquired cooly.

“I’m glad you sought me out to attempt to insult me.” Y/N commented mildly.

“Attempt?”

“It’s not a Hufflepuff thing, being a pushover. I just don’t think you really mean it when you’re rude to me, or to most people, in fact.”

“You think I secretly like you?” Malfoy asked scornfully.

“No - I just don’t think that you’re as big of a dick that you act. I think that you’re trying to live up to some stupid expectations that you think everyone thinks that you should.”

Silence fell between them again, but (and maybe it was just Y/N’s imagination) Malfoy’s gaze seemed a little less harsh on her. She returned to her homework, aware that Malfoy was still watching her and feeling embarrassed under his scrutinising look.

Second Year

“Y/L/N!” Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin at the harsh call of her name.

She saw Justin’s eyes widen a little, looking over her shoulder to see who it was.

Y/N turned around, equally surprised to see Draco Malfoy stalking towards her - unusually, he was not accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, or any of his usual Slytherin crew.

When he came to a stop in front of Y/N, his eyes slid over her to glare at Justin, who quickly caught onto the message.

“I’ll just…” he pointed helplessly towards the Great Hall, where the feast was about to start.

“Save me a seat.” Y/N responded, smiling to her friend who nodded, before rushing away, evidently wanting to be as far away from Malfoy as possible. “Hey, Malfoy,” she tried to maintain her smile but was incapable of keeping the mild worry off of her face - even now that they weren’t on exactly bad terms, it wasn’t like Malfoy to go out of his way to seek out a conversation with her - Y/N wouldn’t kid herself, she knew how Malfoy continued to view her.

“You’re awake,” Malfoy finally breaks the awkward silence between them, stating the obvious. It brings a real smile to her face as she nods.

“I am.”

“I’m… I’m glad,” Malfoy confessed, looking uncomfortable, breaking their eye contact.

“So am I.”

“Do you… remember anything?”

“I don’t know what happened while I was petrified if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh… right,” a faint tinge of pink rose in his cheeks and he scuffed his shoes. “I… I visited you.”

“What?” The shock-induced word was out of her mouth before she could think better of it and she stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Nothing - it’s stupid,” immediately he had built his barriers back up, meeting her eyes again but the harshness was back in his gaze, his jaw set in place, all angles and hard edges.

“You visited me?” Y/N repeated, finally regaining control of her surprise and beaming at him.

“Well… yeah,” Malfoy looked wary of her as he confirmed his actions.

“Why?” A light laugh accompanied her words and she could have sworn that she saw the corner of Malfoy’s mouth twitch, too, as though he wanted to smile back at her.

“I… I didn’t want you to die.”

“That makes a change,” but it’s clear that she’s teasing him from her smile, from the tone of voice that suggests that she’s about to start laughing again and she sees Draco soften a little, even allowing himself to smile back at her, albeit tentatively.

“I can help you catch up, if you want,” he doesn’t seem to be aware of making the offer, judging by the look of mild surprise that crosses his face, but which he quickly covers up as best he can.

“Pardon?”

“I know we only have a few days left of term but, I could try and help you catch up, if you wanted - I’m pretty good at Potions,” he seems more sure of himself this time and it causes Y/N’s smile to widen.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Third Year

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Y/N turned her head to look at Draco, not at all surprised to see him standing there, with his arms crossed, glaring at her.

“Is that so?”

“You know you have,” Draco grumbled, pouting a little at her.

“You’re acting like a child,” Y/N warned, turning the page of her book dismissively.

“You’re being a bitch,” he huffed in response. “Hey!”

Y/N had hit him with her book the moment the insult had left his lips.

She lifted her book to hide the smile growing on her face from his indignant reaction.

“What do you want, Draco?” She sighed.

“I want to know why you’re ignoring me.”

“I thought you didn’t care what mudbloods think?” A groan slipped past his lips and he fell to the ground beside her, watching her intently.

“What’s it really about?” Draco asked at last.

“I thought everything was about blood purity,” Y/N commented.

“Y/N.”

“Why did you do it?” She burst out, snapping her book closed and staring at him.

“Do what?”

“Make such a big deal about your arm - I know it didn’t hurt that much and Madame Pomfrey healed it immediately. You didn’t need to get it executed.” Tears were burning in her eyes.

“I didn’t know it would be executed,” Draco protested.

“You knew your father wouldn’t let it go easily - you must’ve known something like this would happen,” Y/N declared, shaking her head.

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because Buckbeak was a living creature, Malfoy! It didn’t deserve to die just because you were too bloody proud to listen to what Hagrid was saying!”

“You weren’t in the class! You don’t know what happened!”

“Harry told me what happened.” Y/N muttered, aware of the reaction it would bring from her friend.

“So you’ll believe Potter over me?”

“You haven’t denied it,” Y/N pointed out darkly.

“You’ve been avoiding me for months because of a fucking Hippogriff?”

“Well it does make a change from it being you avoiding me.”

Her words had an immediate effect on Draco, who recoiled a little, becoming even more defensive, wounded by her accusation.

“You know why I avoid you.”

“Yes - because your reputation is more important to you than your friends.”

Y/N went to stand up but Draco caught hold of her hand, looking utterly desperate when Y/N cast her eyes back to him and he tugged, evidently hoping that she would sit down and join him again.

“Please don’t leave me,” guilt laced his voice, and Y/N wondered if he understood at last where she was coming from - if he understood how it felt for her every time he pretended she didn’t exist, when he scorned her in front of their classmates but acted like she was his closest friend when it was just the two of them. “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take much to get Y/N to give in to his pleas, one look into his puppy-dog expression and she sighed, resuming her previous position beside her friend.

“You’re really important to me, you know,” Draco said after a while, his words quiet and when Y/N looked to him, he didn’t look up, studying his hands as though lost in thought but by the blush on his cheeks it was clear that he was just embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Draco - I understand. It’s how you were brought up.”

“But you really are - you’re one of the most important people in my life,” Draco insisted, finally looking up. Y/N gave him a small smile. “But… not just… as a friend,” he was frowning a little and y/N’s heard began to thud in her chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that… that I like you. I like you a lot,” he breathed a slight laugh with his confession, giving her a nervous grin that sent her heart fluttering even more.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“You know that makes everything between us even more complicated than before?” Y/N asked, but she moved closer to him, resting her head onto his shoulder, wanting to reassure him that she wasn’t rejecting him.

Draco seemed to pick up on what she was truly trying to say and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Are you okay with hiding with me a little longer?” He whispered.

Y/N squeezed his hand.

Fourth Year

Y/N had been able to feel Draco’s eyes glaring into her all day, and she had a feeling that she knew exactly what it was about.

This knowledge was why she wasn’t exactly surprised when she was walking with Ernie, Justin and Hannah towards the Great Hall for dinner, after Transfiguration, and a hand reached out and clasped around her wrist, tugging her to the side.

A slight yelp left her lips, however and her fellow Hufflepuffs turned to look at her, frowning in concern.

“I just realised I forgot something - go in, I’ll catch up with you,” she offered with a strained smile. Her friends exchanged looks before doing as she asked and Y/N turned to the figure that had retreated the moment that her friends had looked towards them, rolling her eyes at him. “Way to be subtle,” she told him, but Draco just glared at her. “What’s wrong?” She sighed, following Draco a little further into the shadows, out of view of any other students.

“Is it true?” Hurt was clear in his voice and it was only then that Y/N took in the sadness that gleamed in his eyes.

“Is what true?” A feeling of dread settled in her stomach, though - she was well aware of what Draco was asking her.

“I heard Potter talking during Potions - apparently he’s taking you to the ball. Is that true?” Draco’s words were stiff, desperately trying to hide how much it hurt him to speak them aloud.

“Yeah, I’m going with Harry,” Y/N confessed.

“Why?” He didn’t even attempt to keep the shake from his voice.

“You weren’t going to ask me - Harry needed a date so he asked me to go with him. As friends,” Y/N shrugged.

“You wanted me to… to ask you?” Draco repeated a little faintly, his eyes searching hers desperately. Y/N smiled just a little and gave a half shrug of her shoulders.

“I thought that much was obvious.”

“I couldn’t ask you.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to.”

“I know,” Y/N reached up a hand, cupping Draco’s cheek and angling his face carefully to force him to look at her and she gave him a sad smile. “I understand, Draco - I do, I promise.”

“But why Potter of all people?”

“Because we’re friends, Draco,” Y/N laughed, watching Draco lean into her touch, his eyes closing contentedly. “And I knew you were going with Pansy,” she admitted in a whisper, not wanting to allow her own insecurities to be heard too clearly in her voice, but it was clear that she had failed in that regard when Draco’s eyes snapped open and met hers.

“It’s not like that,” he hastened to assure her and Y/N responded with a half-smile accompanied with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Silence fell between them before Draco let out a slight sigh. “I wish I could go with you,” he confessed, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers.

“I would’ve said yes if you’d asked - just for the record,” Draco breathed a laugh, his eyes closing again.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers, feeling her smile her shy, sweet smile.

“I’ll always wait for you,” she responded instead, stating it as though it was a simple fact.

Harry had conveniently forgotten to mention to Y/N that agreeing to being his date to the Yule Ball also meant agreeing to dancing in front of the whole school and their visitors.

“I thought you’d say no if I told you!” Harry laughed as he led Y/N off of the dance floor, towards Ron who was standing with his rather disgruntled-looking date.

“And it would have been perfectly reasonable for me to say no!” Y/N announced, pushing her friend’s shoulder playfully.

“Can we go sit down?” Ron muttered, barely sparing a greeting for his friends. Y/N raised an amused eyebrow at Harry who grinned at her, a silent promise in his eyes to fill her in later.

As Y/N crossed the room with Ron and Harry - Padma Patil in tow, though not looking at all happy about the company she was in for the evening - she could feel eyes watching her. Y/N looked over in the direction of the group of Fourth Year Slytherins. Sure enough, Draco was standing there, Pansy in front of him, evidently attempting to engage him in conversation. Draco was nodding along with whatever she was saying but his eyes were on her, an expression on his face that Y/N didn’t quite understand.

She offered him a small smile and thought she saw a slight quirk at the corners of Draco’s lips before he managed to get control of his expression again and returned to his conversation with his date.

Y/N felt a pang in her chest when she saw Draco laughing at something Pansy had said.

It was late into the evening when she was, once again, grabbed by the wrist from the shadows, having been on her way to get butterbeers for herself, Ron and Harry.

Draco pulled her into an alcove off of the Great Hall, where they could still hear the music being played by the band. He smiled down at her.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he told her, squeezing her hand. Y/N’s skin crawled with embarrassment and she looked down to the floor, grinning to herself.

“Thanks - so do you.”

“I look beautiful?” Draco asked, laughter in his voice and when Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttered at his crinkled eyes.

“You always look beautiful.”

Draco flushed a bright pink but his smile only widened.

“I know it’s not the same but - would you like to dance with me?” He offered, tilting his head a little in the direction of the source of the music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, stepping closer to him and breathing in the scent that she had become so familiar with lately.

“I should warn you, though, I stepped on Harry’s toes a lot when we danced.”

“I’m sure that was Potter’s fault, not yours. He strikes me as an awful dancer,” Draco commented, beginning to lead them in their dance.

“I never thought you’d be so good.”

“Most purebloods are - we go to a lot of galas and dances, see?” He looked a little embarrassed. Y/N knew that, when he was with her, he didn’t like to talk about his blood status, it only served as a reminder to what she was - to the reasons why they had to dance in alcoves, rather than with the rest of the school.

Y/N didn’t reply other than to rest her head on his chest, her eyes squeezing shut as they continued to dance, wanting to savour every moment of happiness.

Fifth Year

“She’s a bitch.” Y/N stated, fixing Draco with a glare that practically dared him to disagree with her.

“She’s not that bad,” Draco insisted.

“You only like her because you share a dislike of Harry!”

“That’s not true.”

“She’s an awful teacher,” Y/N pointed out and Draco sighed heavily. “And she’s just awful to everyone!”

“She’s not that bad to me,” Draco shrugged, going back to his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework that him and Y/N were both meant to be working on.

“Of course she’s not that bad to you,” Y/N laughed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re a pureblood - and a Malfoy at that! She respects you!”

“I am pretty deserving of respect,” Draco mused and Y/N rolled her eyes, throwing a scrunched up piece of parchment at his head, causing him to laugh, batting it away. “Does she really give you a hard time?” He asked and Y/N could see the concerned look in his eyes as he asked.

“It’s nothing that I’m not used to,” was her response, immediately feeling bad for bringing up her blood status.

“Y/N…”

“You of all people understand how some witches and wizards feel about mudbloods.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Draco snapped immediately, a harsh look in his eyes.

“Why not? Everyone else does,” Y/N pointed out drily, going back to her own piece of parchment. “You did.” She added, not looking up. Not needing to, to know the reaction that her words would cause.

“I was stupid,” Draco told her, a pained edge to his voice.

“You still call the others it.”

“You’re different.”

“Why?” Y/N inquired, looking up again, tilting her head just a little to the side, taking in the expression on Draco’s face.

“You know why,” Draco muttered.

A heavy silence fell between them, unlike any that they had experienced since their second year. Y/N broke it at last, scooting over towards him and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said quietly. Draco hesitated for a moment before dropping his head down to rest atop hers.

“I don’t want this.” He admitted and Y/N tensed up, unsure if she wanted to hear what else Draco was going to say. “I don’t want to hide you.”

“You said that it was for the best,” she reminded him mutely.

“And it is,” Draco agreed through a long sigh. “Especially now he’s back,” they were approaching dangerous territory.

They had yet to discuss Voldemort’s return. Y/N was aware that Draco’s parents were Death Eaters - Draco had confided in her that his father had indeed returned to Voldemort’s inner circle the night marking the end of the Triwizard Tournament the previous year. But other than that, it had been very much a taboo subject - it made their relationship even more turbulent than before. Even less certain of a future.

“But just because it’s for the best, it doesn’t mean that I have to like it,” he finished and Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little.

“You sound like a child.”

“I wish it were all easier.”

Y/N thought she heard a slight crack in his voice, but knew better than to mention it. Instead, she nestled a little closer to him, craning her neck to press a kiss to his cheek.

“One day it will be.”

Sixth Year

Y/N allowed her fingers to trail up and down Draco’s arm, lost in thought.

Lately, they had gotten into the habit of sneaking Y/N into the Slytherin boys dorms after everyone had already gone to sleep. Draco didn’t go to bed until well past midnight anymore anyway, choosing instead to spend his time working on the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement.

He had confided in Y/N fairly soon into the term - he never had been very good at hiding things from her, and while he would by no means allow her to help him directly, completely refusing to let her be tied to his awful assignment in any way, she had done her best to help him.

Joining him in his dorm after he would turn in for the night was one of the ways she would attempt to soothe her boyfriend.

Draco didn’t sleep anymore.

His mind was plagued with far too many anxieties, overworked with ideas of how to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, of how to get Voldemort to forgive his father.

He was carrying the weight of his family on his shoulders and he was only sixteen. Y/N wondered how he hadn’t cracked yet.

“Draco?” Y/N whispered into the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“What’s going to happen now that… now that you’ve fixed it?” She asked and she felt Draco take a deep, shuddering breath and held onto him a little tighter.

“I have to… fulfil my duty,” his voice was hoarse and Y/N could feel dampness on the top of her head and felt her heart break. She moved so that she was looking up at him, meeting his eyes, swimming with tears that had begun to overflow.

She reached up a hand, cupping his cheek, using her thumb to gently brush away his tears.

“Hey - it’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?” He sniffed, turning his face to kiss her palm, his eyes shutting. “I’m so fucking scared - and it’s happening tomorrow. There’s nothing I can do anymore.”

Silence engulfed them again, broken only by the sounds of Draco’s dormmates snoring.

“I think we should break up.”

Y/N physically recoiled from him, staring at her boyfriend in wide-eyed hurt shock. She can see the response that the loss of her touch has on him, Draco looked a lot more alert, a lot harder than before, but a little more broken, craving the reassurance that her gentle touches would bring him.

“It’s for the best,” he whispered, another tear slipping down his cheek.

“Draco…”

“He’ll hurt you if he finds out about you - he’ll use you to get to me, just as he used my Father. And it’ll be worse for you because you’re...”

“A mudblood,” Y/N finished for him. Draco gave a quiet, pained moan at her words, grimacing.

“I shouldn’t have started this,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with you.”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, though her cheeks were wet with tears.

“If only it were that easy.”

Seventh Year

“Where is she?” Draco demanded Harry.

Tears were burning in his eyes, pain radiated off of him, the aura of loss hung around him. He had just lost Crabbe - one of the closest things he had ever had to a friend, one of the people he figured he’d always have, even just as back up.

He needed her.

The one person who wasn’t scared or intimidated by him, but who loved him because she thought that he could do some good.

“She was tortured because of you!” Harry screamed back, the two of them seemingly unaware of the Battle that continued to rage around them.

“I love her,” Draco told him, utterly defeated. “I’ve always loved her.”

“We had to rescue her from your home!” Harry raged, his gaze murderous, ignoring Ron and Hermione’s calls to him.

“Please just tell me that she’s not here - please tell me that she’s safe somewhere - somewhere far away from here,” Draco pleaded.

Harry didn’t respond, but the look on his face before he rushed away with his friends was answer enough for him.

It was enough for him to pull himself together, heaving himself up off of the floor outside the Room of Requirement and, leaving Goyle still recovering on the ground, he moved towards the sound of fighting, determined to find her.

Determined to put her right.

The last time that he had seen her was one of the worst days of his life - it was tied with the day that Voldemort had looked into his mind and discovered her existence and the importance that she held to Draco, and also with the day that she had been captured and brought to Malfoy Manor.

It was his Aunt that took the most pleasure in her company.

While Draco had screamed and writhed against his father’s restraints, wanting to get to her, Bellatrix had cackled and tortured Y/N, though Draco wasn’t exactly sure what she had hoped to gain from it.

Y/N was screaming for death by the time Bellatrix had grown weary and she had been taken to the basement to join Ollivander and Luna who were already being kept captive down there.

Draco had screamed himself hoarse and was sobbing, pleading with his parents to let him go, to let him free her.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realise that they kept her alive only to keep him in line.

Anytime he showed even the slightest sign of doubt, Y/N was brought back up.

When Fenrir had appeared with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean and the goblin, Draco had for the first time since her arrival, allowed himself the slightest bit of hope.

“Take her with you,” he had pleaded in his mind as the group were thrown down to join the others in the basement. Draco knew that there was no chance of Harry remaining there - he knew he would escape because it was Harry Potter. As infuriating as it was, getting out of tight situations was what Harry did best.

Draco didn’t find her until he entered the Great Hall after Voldemort had called a truce and implored Harry to find him in the forest.

He skirted around the sides of the room, not wanting to disturb the mourners. He felt a pang in his chest when he caught sight of the group of redheads, all of them gathered around a body on the floor.

But his sympathy didn’t last long because only moments later did he catch sight of her and relief flooded through his veins.

He was running towards her before he could think better of it. Tears were streaming down his face and she looked up, hearing the fast approaching footsteps. Her lips parted in shock and then they seemed to twitch upwards in the beginnings of a smile.

Y/N stood up, opening her arms to embrace Draco the moment that he barrelled into her, muttering apologies to her over and over again.

“I’m okay,” Y/N whispered, running her hand through his platinum-blond hair which was, at the moment, tinged black with soot and grime. “I’m okay.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Draco hiccuped, trying to get a hold of his emotions, pulling back but before he could wipe his eyes, Y/N had lifted her hands to do it for him.

“You still look beautiful, you know.”

And even though the word was burning around them, even after the horrors that they had both seen in recent days, months, years, even with the grief in the room and the hollowness in their chests, Draco laughed.

And then, aware that they were being watched by many of their former classmates, he pushed some hair away from her face and kissed her.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #courts writings

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an-unknown-writers-world · 5 years ago

Text

First Pitch

Summary: Bucky’s been keeping the reader at a distance, but he needs an escort to the Yankees game which leads to some unexpected confessions.

A/N: First attempt back at writing; this is absolute trash. Sorry, not sorry.

Word Count: 3,335

You sat at the kitchen island reading a book while you at your breakfast. It had been a peaceful morning, by the grace of god Sam and Bucky both slept in leaving you to enjoy the peace. You’d think after living together for over a year they would get along better, but the jabs never seem to end; although it is getting hard to tell if they’re because they actually care for each other and don’t want to admit it or if they truly do still hate each other. You had just taken your last bite when Bucky emerged into the kitchen.

“Morning,” He said in a still sleepy rough voice.

“Morning, Buck.”

You went back to your book thinking that was the end of the conversation. It’d been a year since Pepper moved you into the compound. You were a Red Room survivor and long-time friend of Natasha, so when you showed up at the remnants of the compound looking for her Pepper offered her place in what remained of the Avengers Initiative to you. It was no secret that you’d never be able to fill those shoes, they were impossible to fill, but you looked forward to being a part of something bigger. Sam had welcomed you with open arms, Bucky, on the other hand, kept you at arm’s length.

“Any plans for the day?” Bucky asked coming to stand across the counter from you.

His coffee cup steamed on the counter in front of him, you looked it at rather than him, confused by his sudden concern in your plans. If there was no mission in the works or casual polite conversation involved, Bucky rarely spoke to you. He was never rude, but he certainly didn’t extend an olive branch or show any interest in being friends of any kind. In fact, every time you would take a step towards friendship, he would push you away.

“Nothing really. I might go for a run later, but I haven’t decided.” You paused for a moment. “Why, did something happen? Fury calling us in?”

He shook his head, “No,” He hesitated, “just curious.”

You stood from the stool to clear your dishes confused by the exchange. Tension between the two of you wasn’t uncommon, but this felt far different.

“(Y/N), have you ever been to a baseball game?”

Well, this just got weirder. You thought to yourself.

You closed the dishwasher door, “No, Buck. I’ve never really cared for any sport but football.”

He nodded smiling to himself, “I remember Nat talking about going to a game with you. She had a lot of fun that day. She did warn that anyone who goes to something like that would you should be prepared for the drunk you.” He chuckled softly, “She said it’s pretty entertaining.”

Your heart warmed at the topic of your old friend. “I miss her.” You confessed.

He placed his flesh hand on your shoulder softly, “Me too.”

Internally your mind was throwing all kinds of flags – red danger, orange caution signs. But you smiled at the gesture.

He turned his attention back to his coffee cup; you took the opportunity to put some distance between you; taking your own cup to the coffee maker to get a fresh cup.

“Steve and I used to go to baseball games when we were kids.” He reminisced. “The Dodgers were in Brooklyn back then.”

You laughed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I just don’t remember a time that they weren’t in Los Angeles.”

He smiled. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

“Age isn’t relative.” You replied automatically.

“This is harder than it was back in the day.” He mumbled so low you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear.

You came to stand across from him, coffee cups and island in between. “Bucky?” You said trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, you could see the torture in his eyes.

“Hey, whatever it is. Just spit it out.”

Bucky took a deep breath, “Would you be willing to come to the Yankees game with me this afternoon? I have to throw out the first pitch for Stark Industries.”

“Oh,” You were shocked at the question.

You searched his expression, he seemed sincere in his request and you could see the anxiety eating away at him as you contemplated his request. Part of you wanted to decline the request because it seemed so far out of the left-field, but the bigger part of you wanted to say yes. You wanted to be friends with your housemates, and this was a good first step. Besides you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t admit there was a part of you that had wanted more with Bucky.

“It’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to.”

“No, no.” You suddenly felt bad it took so long for you to answer. “I’d be happy to go with you. Two conditions, though.” You smiled.

“Name ‘em.” He replied with a confused smile.

“You have to answer all my ridiculous questions and beer is a requirement.”

He laughed; it was a musical sound that you didn’t often hear. “I think I can handle both.”

“When is the game?” You asked.

“We need to leave in two hours.” He replied.

You scrunched your face in frustration as you rounded the counter to put your cup in the dishwasher. “You’re giving me a two-hour notice to figure out the game of baseball and figure out appropriate attire for a game.”

Bucky smiled, “You don’t have to learn anything about the game, I’ll teach you.” He drank from his coffee cup, “And its September in New York, whatever you might wear to a picnic or to the park or something, that would be fine for a baseball game.”

You nodded, “I guess I’m going to go get dressed.”

As you turned to walk away Bucky’s hand casually caught your own, you turned back to look at him.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You squeezed his hand lightly. “You certainly don’t have to thank me.” You smiled back, “I should be the one thanking you for taking me to someplace new.”

** Two Hours Later **

The clock read 1:56 PM and you were startled by a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“(Y/N), the cars here,” Bucky said from the opposite side of the door.

“Coming.” You said getting up from your vanity.

You heard the footsteps down the hall signaling that Bucky wasn’t waiting outside your door any longer. Taking a deep breath, you tried to remind yourself this was just another day. You looked in the mirror one last time – sporting a red tank top, denim capris and black Nike’s; it didn’t feel right, but it would have to do. Opening the door, you made your way down the hall and the flight of stairs leading to the big open foyer. Bucky stood with his back to the stairs looking at his phone, the sound of your footsteps drawing his attention to turn around.

“Wow,” He said smiling. “You look amazing.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, “Thanks, Buck.”

He held out his arm, “We should go, Pepper sent over a car. Apparently, she doesn’t trust me to get to the game myself.”

You laughed grabbing a hold of his arm. “I probably wouldn’t trust you either.”

“I should probably be offended by that statement,” Bucky said as he led you out of the door.

“You probably would be, if you didn’t know there was some truth to it.”

He laughed as the driver opened the backdoor.

“Thank you,” You said as he waited for you to get in before closing it himself.

The drive went by quickly despite being through heavy traffic, electricity seemed to fill the silent car as you both looked out your separate windows as the car. When you arrived at the stadium you were taken by a security team to a private box that overlooked the stadium while Bucky was led to the locker room where he would meet the team and prepare for the first pitch.

“Sergeant Barnes will be up after the ceremonial pitch, through those doors,” the man pointed, “is a full bar and eatery. If you need anything, Mrs. Barnes security will be right outside the door. Enjoy the game.”

The man didn’t wait for any response, he just left the box. You were shocked by the man’s assumption that you were married. You wondered if Pepper knew you would be in attendance, or was Bucky planning to bring someone else? Before you let your mind wander any further you walked through the door the attendant had pointed out and got two beers – one for you and one for Bucky.

You sat in the middle seat of the row and watched as the players of each team warmed up and Bucky appeared to chat up some executive looking people. You were impressed at how casual he made everything look, you knew the anxiety he was feeling about the situation only because you had known him so long. You imagined if Steve and Natasha were still here how different this situation would be, you may not even be here; but if you were you could imagine Steve cheering him on and Natasha telling him not to cheat with his metal arm. Cheers broke your thoughtful trance as the announcer introduced the ‘Avenger Sgt Bucky Barnes on behalf of Stark Industries’. You smiled and cheer from your seat as he threw out the first pitch.

It was only a matter of minutes before the box door opened and Bucky appeared.

“Looked good out there Barnes.” You said turning to look at him.

“Thanks, it’s been a long time since I’ve thrown a baseball.” He said coming to sit next to you.

“What a hundred years or so?” You smirked.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes now do you?” He laughed.

“I don’t know if they actually have any effect on you, but I got you a beer.” You gestured to the cup holder in front of him.

“Thank you,” He said reaching for the bottle.

You watched rotations of batters come up slowly piecing together the bits of the game, you’d probably be more focused on the game if Bucky’s arm wasn’t slung across the back of your seat. It was a simple gesture that shouldn’t be so distracting, but this was the closest proximity you’d ever been with each other. Emptying your own beer bottle, you slipped it back in the cupholder.

“Would you like another?” Bucky asked as he emptied his own. “I believe that was part of the agreement.”

You smiled at him, “Yes please.”

He stood to grab both bottles, “I’ll be right back.”

The short time he was gone you found yourself paying closer attention to the game, it was seemingly straight forward – ball hit, run to base and try not to get out. It was clearly more complicated, but that was definitely the basic understanding.

Bucky came to sit next to you again, holding out the beer to you with a smile grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you” You took it, “what’s got you so smiley?” You asked.

“Did you know they think we’re married?” He laughed.

“I assumed they probably did. The man who brought me up here referred to me as Mrs. Barnes.”

“It does have a nice ring to it,” Bucky mumbled,

He had a good habit of mumbling; you often chose not to respond because you rarely thought you were actually supposed to hear them. A blush crept up your cheeks at his statement, nonetheless. A few more silent moments passed between you.

“I feel like I’m not keeping up my end of the bargain.” He said breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I was under the impression that I would be answering ridiculous questions.”

You laughed, “It seems straight forward enough, I haven’t thought of any.”

“They don’t have to be just about the game.” He replied.

The answer surprised you. Bucky had never been very open with you and this seemed like an open invitation to be just that.

“Well, this could get interesting.” You smiled before taking a sip of your beer.

He flashed you a sincere Bucky smile, the kind that could melt even the thickest ice blocks.

“You never did answer the question about this?” You gestured towards the beer in his hand.

“It does affect me; it takes a lot more than the average person.”

You nodded, “Do you really hate Sam?”

He laughed, “I can’t answer that, you’ll tell him.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I would never.”

He stuck out his flesh pinky towards you, “promise?”

You pink promised him.

“No I don’t; not since after the blip.”

“But you’re still mean to him?”

“That term is a little harsh.”

You laughed, “You moved all of his bedroom furniture out to the courtyard knowing he’d come home in the middle of the night from a mission.”

Bucky laughed. “Point taken.”

You paused thinking for a moment, “What is your favorite color?”

He looked at you puzzled by the simple question, “Red.” He replied.

“Favorite musician from your era?”

“It would depend on what the occasion was; probably Louis Armstrong or Bing Crosby.”

“Two names I can actually recognize.” You laughed.

“I’ve seen the stacks of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald vinyl albums in your room.”

“You’ve been in there?” You questioned.

“A few times.” He hesitated as he watched your expression, “Sometimes if you’re on a long mission or missed a check-in I will sit in there while I wait to hear.” He looked away and picked at the label on the bottle. “It makes me feel a little closer to you, the room smells like you too.”

You smiled at the sentiment of his statement.

The two of you bantered back and forth, him answering any question you could think of; you attempted to keep them as lighthearted as possible. The game seemed to pass by quickly, the crowd being your indicator if something was good or bad. None of it seemed to matter much to the two of you. Bucky got up to get you both another round of drinks and came back with a pair of filled shot glasses.

“To better friendships.” He said handing you one of the glasses.

You smiled at him, “So you thought we were friends before this?”

He looked at you confused,

“I’m kidding Bucky.” You said setting your hand on his thigh. “Spre prietenie.”

Both of you downed your shots.

“I didn’t know you could speak Romanian.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

A light breeze kicked in causing you to shiver. You didn’t feel cold, but you were sure the alcohol had lowered your blood pressure causing your body temperature to decrease as well.

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket,” Bucky said shimming out of the long sleeve black flannel he had on.

It left him in a short sleeve white t-shirt that sculpted to his body perfectly. He pulled the flannel over your shoulders wrapping you in the warmth and the sweet smell of him.

“Thanks, Buck, guess I hadn’t realized it would get so chilly.”

He smiled back at you.

“Alright folks, it’s time for the 7th inning stretch! Everybody on your feet!” The announcer called out.

“Wait, it’s a real thing?” You asked with a laugh.

“Come on doll,” Bucky said standing up.

You had never seen him like this- childlike, innocent happiness.

“Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd;” He sung out, swaying with the crowd. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don't care if I never get back.” He smiled at you as you watched in awe, “ Let me root, root, root for the home team, If they don't win, it's a shame. For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out, At the old ball game” Bucky counted three strikeouts on his fingers in your direction.

The crowd cheered as the song ended with everyone taking their seats. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at this new version of Bucky you witnessed.

“What?” He said sitting down, his arm stretching behind your seat again.

“Nothing,”

“(Y/N), spit it out.”

"This is a good look for you, Buck."

He looked at you confused.

"Happy." You stated, "I'm not even joking when I say that your smile could melt the polar ice caps."

The sun cast a shadow across his face, but you were pretty sure that you were witnessing him blush for the first time. You were beginning to think the alcohol was a bad idea, the line between the Bucky you knew, and the alcohol influenced Bucky was blurry and only got worse with each passing second. Picking up the bottle from the cup holder you finished what was left of it.

“I’m going to run to the little girl’s room.” You said standing up.

Bucky smiled up at you, “Do you want me to grab you another drink while you’re gone”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you though.”

You took the space as an opportunity to breathe and try and get your head back on straight. Something changed, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was no way that Bucky had ingested enough alcohol to make this kind of change.

Smiling at him you sat back down. His arm quickly found its way around the back of your seat and you took it as an opportunity to make a move of your own, settling into your seat you rested your head on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture and he didn’t seem to pull away from it. Instead, his arm came to rest on your own pulling you closer to his side. Between the alcohol, the fall heat and the glorious smell that could only be described as Bucky you found yourself in a trance-like state.

The crowd cheered in the background as a fan caught a fly ball.

“Hey, Buck,”

“Yeah doll?”

“Thank you for today.”

He squeezed you a little tighter, “I should be the one thanking you for coming with me.” You could feel the sigh he let out. “I also owe you an apology.”

With that, you pulled your head back to look at him.

“Please hear me out.”

“Okay.”

“Ever since the day you moved in, I’ve kept you at a distance and I haven’t been fair to you. You can relate to so many things from my past and that terrified me; I would see you do amazing things and care so much about others around you. Every day I seem to fall more in love with you and I’m tired of fighting it.”

You smiled at his confession, pressure building in your chest.

“I know that I haven’t given you any reason to feel the same, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to change that.”

Before he could say anymore you leaned forward to kiss him, your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. When you broke the kiss, you leaned your forehead against his neck trying to catch your breath, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m guessing that means you’ll let me try to make it up to you.”

You both laughed softly.

Looking up at him you smiled, “You don’t have anything to make up.”

You laid your head on his shoulder again. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” You said softly. “I don’t want to deal with Sam yet.”

Bucky laughed at your truthful statement. “I know a few ways to shut him up.”

It was your turn to laugh at him.

He leaned in kissing you again, the game in front of you completely forgotten. You weren’t sure what any of this meant, but you were more than willing to find out.

**********

Thanks for reading!! If like what you read, you can find more here.

Tag List: if you’d like to be added. Shoot me an ask. Also if you want to be removed (no hard feelings if that’s the case, I know my topic of people has changed): @starrynite7114 @genius2050 @badasseddy @knowles-morgan @itsnethbellins

#Bucky Barnes X Reader #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes Reader Insert #Marvel Reader Insert #Bucky Barnes Trash #sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan Trash #An Unknown Writers World writes #late night writes

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eamesandbellamyaremyheaven · 5 years ago

Text

The Iron Heir and the Lady Wolf 1/?

Game of Thrones AU (canon-divergent)

Warnings: none for now, but I’ll warn with every update

Summary: Sansa is finally free from the Lannisters and King’s Landing, but the price for her return home is a force marriage to Theon Greyjoy, the man that betrayed her family and took the North.

A.N. - This is something I wrote a while back, and never got to finish. Here’s the first part, I hope I’ll continue this soon, so tell me what you think!

Sansa stood outside Moat Cailin, the pressure building in her chest rapidly as the news sank in “I can't marry him. You can't make me. He's a traitor. A murderer.” Just the thought of it, marrying Theon Greyjoy, the man who betrayed her family and killed her youngest brothers, the thought of it made her sick of her stomach “I will starve myself. I will die before I have to go there.”

“Sansa, listen to me” Petyr started, holding her hands in his, and she hated how his gaze focused on her “I won't force you to do anything. Don't you know by now how much I care for you? Say the word and we turn the horses round, but listen to me.” he spoke quietly then “You've been running all your life. Terrible things happened to your family and you weep. You sit alone in a darkened room, mourning their fates. You've been a bystander to tragedy from the day they executed your father. Stop being a bystander, do you hear me? Stop running. There's no justice in the world. Not unless we make it. You loved your family. Avenge them.”

He kissed her forehead, and she wished he wouldn’t. She hated the way he looked at her when he thought she would not notice, but she did. She hated the way he held her hands or her face when he wanted her to listen attentively to him, and she hated the way his lips felt on her skin. They burned as poison and wildfire, and she hated it. She hated him.

But Sansa knew him to be right. He brought her home, and she would be made the Lady of Winterfell, and if the price to pay was to marry Theon she would endure it, for her family. She was a Stark after all, and Winterfell was hers.

*~*~*

Theon awaited impatiently for Baelish to arrive with his party, and his prize. Theons patience was warring thin, as he felt the weight of his actions scaling him down, and consuming him from the underneath.

He had chosen to take Winterfell, and betray the Starks. He had chosen to seize Bran and Rickon, and at their escape, he had commanded Dagmer to kill two farmer boys, making the northmen to believe he had killed the lasting heirs of the dying house. He was the Lord of a kingdom that loathed its ruler, and at any moment the Bolton army could march in and destroy them all.

So, he had agreed to Littlefinger’s proposal, and to marry Sansa, in order to appease the northmen, and maybe keep Roose Bolton at bay, for the time being. All for a kingdom that loathed him. Maybe Yara had been right. He should’ve gone back to the Iron Islands while he could, he would die too far away from the sea.

The gates screeched as they were opened ajar, and the party galloped inside, led by Sansa and Petyr. They stopped at the middle of the courtyard, and Petyr was the first one to step down from his horse. He moved to aid Sansa, but she quickly eased down from her horse.

Theon took her in as he walked closer, for she was no longer the little girl that had left the North long ago. Had she grown taller? She must be taller than him at least by a hand now. Her face had hardened and her eyes had lost the intensity of its blue, mainly due to the torture she endured at the hands of the Lannisters. He had heard the rumors, and for her to turn to him of all people must’ve meant them to be true. As her cloak unclenched itself at the harsh winter breeze, he noticed her form, and although she was still lean as a twig, her womanly parts had grown fuller.

Petyr held Sansa’s hand in his as he approached Theon, who was followed closely by Dagmer and Maester Luwin. The way the man smiled as he came closer to him gave Theon the chills. He didn’t trust the man, and he wanted him gone and away from them as soon as possible.

“Lord Greyjoy”

“Lord Baelish. Lady Sansa” he spoke, focusing on the later “Welcome home”

*~*~*

Sansa brushed the web treads on her father’s crypt away, sadden to see the Lord her father so easily forgotten. Winterfell had been without a living Stark for far too long, she realized, and the crypts where her family rested had been carelessly abandoned.

Welcome home, he had said to her, emotionless. She had pursed her lips and clenched her jaw, fully knowing she would say the something very offensive if she spoke right away. You betrayed Robb. You killed Bran and Rickon. You’ve taken everything from me. I hate you.

Thank you... my Lord. She had replied instead, the tittle settling bitter on her tongue. He had noticed it, too. But he said nothing, only taking a courtesy bow as he excuse himself, and left them to attend his duties.

Sansa had decided to pay her respects to the dead, and so she left her room, unattended. She wanted to be alone, as she knew every eye in the castle would pry on her, to either tell Theon or Littlefinger any bit of information they might think valued.

Two set of footsteps echoed through the stone halls, and Sansa pushed herself up. As she recognized Lord Baelish voice, she hidden herself in the shadows, wanting to know what would make a non devoted man as himself come to a grim place as the crypts, and with whom at that.

“I've become quite fond of Lady Sansa during our travels together.” She heard him say, as he and Theon came to an halt at the crypt next to her fathers “She’s suffered enough.”

“I'll never hurt her. You have my word.” Theon replied, sincere. Since young she always knew when he was lying, and when he was not.

“I assure you she's still a virgin. Tyrion never consummated the marriage. By the law of the land, she's no man's wife. Inspect her, if you must.” That miserable rat! Pretending to care for her, for the sake of her mother, and yet here he was, selling her away as a cheap whore. Although she was disappointed, she couldn’t say she did not expected it.

Theon stared at Littlefinger, seemingly annoyed “It's her name I need, not her virtue.”

“Then I have delivered everything I've promised.”

“You should brace yourself for the consequences. When the Lannisters hear I've wed Sansa Stark, they will realize she escaped King’s Landing with your aid”

“The game is changing, and the Lannister name doesn't mean what it once did.” Lord Baelish smiled slyly at Theon “Are you ready to play the game of thrones?”

Theons lips curled up slightly in a smug smirk, as he reached for the pocket of his vest and pulled out a letter, holding it up in front of them “A message for you, from Cersei Lannister. A rider arrived from Eyrie, shortly before dawn. Apparently, she thinks you're still in the Vale.”

Lord Baelish seemed caught off guard “A message for me, you say.” he frown, as he examined it “Strange that the seal is broken.”

“As I received word in the night from the Queen Mother, I started question our new alliance. The Lannisters made you one of the great lords of Westeros. Yet, here you are in the North, undermining them. Why gamble with your position?”

“Every ambitious move is a gamble. You gambled when you tied a noose around the young Stark's neck. It appears that your gamble paid off. You're to be married to the last living Stark, becoming the Lord of Winterfell, and so the Warden of the North by the law of marriage”

“I had the Ironborn backing me when I raided Winterfell. Who supports me now? You?”

“The Eyrie is mine. The last time the lords of the Eyrie formed an alliance with the lords of the North, they brought down the greatest dynasty this world has ever known. I'd like to borrow one of your birds. Cersei will expect a reply.”

“I'd like to read the reply if it’s alright with you, Lord Baelish” Theon replied bluntly

Littlefinger smiled and bowed, then turned away “I think I’ll enjoy our new-found... agreement”

Sansa heard as Lord Baelish walked the steps out of the crypts still in her hiding place, but as soon as he was out of earshot she heard Theons voice

“You know, it’s not very lady-like to listen to other people’s private conversations”

Sansa walked out of the shadows into the dim light that only the torches provided. She had thought that her presence had passed unnoticed to both men, but she had been wrong. And the conceited, self-satisfied grin Theon always seemed to save just for her since they were young, and he had learned how to annoy her, the silly grin only aggravated her fury further.

“What did Cersei wanted, in her letter?” Sansa asked, and she watched Theon as he leaned against a bare stone wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“She demanded Littlefinger’s immediate return to Kings Landing with explanations of where he was when you disappeared and if he had any involvement in the process. You know, the usual boring stuff”

“Do you think Cersei knows where I am?”

“No” Theon replied, thoughtful “One thing we can count on, is Littlefinger’s devotion for you. He would never bring any harm to you.” he paused, and brought his gaze up to meet hers “He loves you, you know?”

Theon’s ocean eyes bore a darker colour than usual, Sansa noted, as if a storm was brewing in them, as his mind was working the next steps of a game that was set in motion. He had become wiser, she admitted to herself, studying them since they arrived Winterfell, not fully trusting his childhood friend and her saviour.

“Love is for ladies and knights of songs and tales” Sansa replied dryly, mimicking him body language “Love gets you killed. And I intent to survive”

#theonsa #sansa stark #theon greyjoy #theonsa fanfiction #sansa stark imagine #sansa stark fanfiction #game of thrones #got #eabamh masterlist

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pastellarts · 5 years ago

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To the edge of your sky - Chapter 1: The man with the glowing hand

Summary: A terrible explosion brings together a blunt self-righteous Seeker with a passionate nature and a gracious but skeptical rebel mage. As they fight with their allies in the Inquisition to save the world, they will embrace new dreams and discover that where the sky begins, sorrow ends.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23742424

Chapter music: https://youtu.be/uDFpcSc7IcY

----------

Chaos and despair.

Every step she took on the path towards the destroyed Temple of Sacred Ashes made Lady Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast lose her mind bit by bit.

What had happened? Who was behind it?

Why?

Those were all valid and important questions, demanding answers that she would unleash a hunt for. But as her stride brought her closer to the theater of disaster, the smell of burning flesh and debris overwhelmed her senses.

Her eyes moved frantically from the red and black flames to the vast green swirl that lit up the sky, oozing strange magic and terror. A wound so big that tore the heavens apart and shook the ground by touching it with veins of strange energy.

The thick smoke was making her cough. Cassandra covered her mouth and nostrils with a handkerchief to help herself breathe.

Justinia, I got to find her… And Galyan… Oh Maker, was he in the Temple or not?

She had heard nothing so far, not even a single plea for help or a scream. Only the echoes of the footsteps of the soldiers that joined her to scout the area. The all-consuming fire and the shuddering Breach cracklings were crashing her hopes about finding survivors.

A loud crack nearby broke her reverie and she felt a strong arm dragging her with haste as some burning debris collapsed where she had been standing.

"We can't go closer to the Temple, it will fall apart!" Cullen tugged her further away as he tried to catch his own breath. "We stay here and we die as well, come on!"

Justinia. Templars. Mages. All dead.

"Secure a perimeter to the Temple! Take cover! Make sure nobody approaches, it's too dangerous!" Cullen issued his orders to the soldiers and turned to her.

"Cassandra, I fear…" Cullen offered her a flask and she raised it to her lips without question. Whiskey, to clear the smoke in her throat and her mind. "I don't think anyone survived the explosion", he took the flask from her and drank as well.

Justinia. Templars. Mages. Galyan?

They were dead. The whole Conclave was dead.

The last effort to bring peace to Thedas was sabotaged and all she could do was stare at the tragedy and hear the wind howling as it dispersed hope and ashes around them.

A green explosion startled them, followed by a rift opening. By the time they had drawn their weapons, a Terror had already impaled an unlucky archer that stood closer to it.

"Demons! Formation behind me!" Cullen took a defensive stance as a Shade moved towards him. Cassandra snarled and lunged towards the Terror on her own, only to see it phase into the ground. She kept her guard by pivoting in her position. Moments later she heard a shriek and the Terror crystallized out of thin air, pouncing upon her before she could even blink.

"Die, you demon!" Cassandra kept deflecting its hits with her shield until it disappeared once more. Experience kicking in, she let out a powerful shout the moment it reappeared, hoping to taunt the Terror.

"Ugh, die already!"

She charged like a raging bronto, her longsword hitting the legs and torso of the demon, causing it to dissolve back into the rift, which seemed to calm down.

"This is bad. These rifts are all over the valley. We need to keep men here to fight demons as they appear!" Cullen still held his sword as he assessed the situation.

They stared at each other, sharing the unspoken unavoidable conclusion; more people would die to protect the survivors from the demons and anything else those rifts might bring.

There was no time to lose.

"I need to speak to Leliana at once."

And find Galyan

"I will dispatch soldiers at your disposal for dealing with the demons. Update me if you find anything," Cassandra started her jog down to the village. "And Cullen, please be careful, all of you" she addressed the soldiers and the Commander as she turned towards them. "We have no idea who and what we are up against."

She was Cassandra Pentaghast, the Right Hand of the Divine, Seeker of Truth and the Hero of Orlais, and she would bring anyone who was responsible for this disaster to justice. She would behead them herself for crushing Justinia's crusade for peace and reforms, consequences be damned.

Maker help her, she hoped she had the strength to overcome this challenge.

~oOo~

Alexander Trevelyan had not imagined such an outcome when he joined the delegation of the mages as part of the former Circle of Ostwick to the Chantry Conclave. Nobody in Thedas could have imagined it.

Clad in borrowed scout armor with a random staff in hand and afflicted with a headache and various muscle strains, he followed the tenacious Seeker on the snow-covered mountain path that led to the Temple. The two of them along with Solas and Varric had just bid farewell to the missing scouts who had thanked her for their rescue.

"Thank our prisoner, lieutenant. He insisted we come this way."

Prisoner. He had been requested to resolve the dilemma between choosing the mountain path or attacking at the temple, he got the credit for the rescue of the scouts, but he was still her fucking prisoner. Perhaps a distinguished one, since he was allowed to carry a staff. He would play along for now, like he had agreed to do, following her lead and using his magic against rifts and demons. Until his judgment for a crime he had no memory of.

"There will be a trial, I can promise no more."

The Seeker navigated them, warning about slippery parts and falling ice stalactites, offering a helping hand to prevent missteps. And, Andraste preserve him, that bickering of hers with Varric about everything was making his headache worse. Ostensibly the dwarf had been also her prisoner; neither had kept their squabble a secret.

Was it a habit of hers, taking people as prisoners and interrogating them, just to satisfy her insatiable need for justice and penance? The last thing Alexander could recall from his memories before all went black was walking in the Temple. And then things chasing him and a woman in a mysterious form. When he regained his senses, another woman, tall, fierce, unyielding, with her hand on her sword, approaching him like her prey, threatening to kill him if he didn't give her the answers she was looking for.

But his answers had not been good enough for either of them. He had no recollection of how and why a strange green mark had suddenly appeared on his left hand or if it had caused the explosion that killed all those people.

Unable to get any explanations from him in shackles, the Seeker had released him from the heavy chains, pulled him on his feet and dragged him outside through the angry crowd of the people of Haven.

If by any chance they let him live, he would never forget the first time he saw the blinding light of the Breach that expanded till the edge of the sky. Even the worst curses he had heard from the witnesses of his exit from the holding cells could not taint that vision of green doom from his memory.

"They have decided your guilt."

Still, the reactions of the villagers were nothing like the voiceless shrieks from the dead bodies that laid before the gate to the valley. The screams and pleads to the Maker from soldiers that were running to save themselves. His own howls at every strong pulse from that green mark. The rapid explosions that could bring down a bridge and dozen more soldiers in the blink of an eye.

It was so bad that the Seeker had agreed to let him carry a staff not long after his interrogation had ended.

He could not blame her for being in a hurry to face this disaster. From what he gathered so far, she was the only one realizing what was at stake, reacting seriously and swiftly to the situation, unlike Chancellor Roderick who only wished for his execution in Val Royeaux. Her and Sister Leliana.

He could also see the strain on her face. Without question, the explosion did hurt her. She had lost the Divine, colleagues and perhaps friends. And now she had to tolerate the bitter presence of the lone survivor of that tragedy and protect him because his mark could close the rifts. Couldn't blame her, really.

"We need to keep moving." Cassandra urged them on.

His whole body was heaving from the exhaustion, despite the adrenaline rush. The interrogation, the three rifts, the strain and paralyzing pulses from the green mark – things kept happening so fast, taking a heavy toll on his body and mind. He was able to stand more than a fighting chance, but not today.

And he was hungry, so fucking hungry, but like hell he would admit a weakness to her.

"Down the ladder. That's the way to the temple." Cassandra descended and he prayed he could make it down there without collapsing.

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes." Solas commented.

"What's left of it." Varric whispered full of dread.

Maker! He could only gape at the sight before him. Maker help them all…

How did he even emerge from this catastrophe in one piece?!

Alexander observed the strange rock formations that surrounded the ruins. The discussion between Varric and Solas about the circumstances of the explosion caught his ear. If he were to survive this mission, he would like a chance to converse with the mysterious elven apostate in detail about his informed and rather fitting explanations.

"That is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you." Cassandra approached him. "They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was."

The corpses of the victims were still burning, condemned in an endless torture for their sins, for their hopes for peace between mages and templars. They didn't deserve this fate, no.

"You're here! Thank the Maker." Leliana approached from behind with some soldiers.

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple." Cassandra issued her commands. "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?"

"I'm not sure how to even start getting up to that thing." Alexander looked up to the rift, unable to form an effective strategy.

"No. This rift was the first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach." Solas insisted.

"Then let's find a way down", Cassandra's gaze locked with his. "And be careful."

They moved further inside, walking through red lyrium, hearing echoes from the fade. A deep intimidating voice mentioning a sacrifice and then a female voice yelling for help.

"That is Divine Justinia's voice!" yelled Cassandra.

"What's going on here?"

"That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you. But…" Cassandra's desperate plea for answers was interrupted by more intense ghostly echoes of the Divine engulfed in red energy and a looming dark figure with glowing red eyes. A flash of white and the echoes disappeared.

"You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?" Cassandra snarled at him in vain.

"I don't remember!"

Maker, it was futile to prove he was not behind this tragedy. Cassandra could go on accusing him and he could go on responding in every possible manner that he had no memory of any of it.

"Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place." Solas quickly reminded them what was at stake as the soldiers stood around them with their weapons drawn.

"This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons. Stand ready!" Cassandra unsheathed her sword and took a battle stance by his side. Of course, her primary task would be to protect the prisoner with the glowing hand long enough to close the rift and then throw him away like a rag for his trial.

Damn the Seeker and the Chantry and their modus operandi against mages. Right now, the only thing that mattered was to fight that Pride demon and close the rift. However, if he made it out of this battle alive, he would fight for his freedom and his rights, for justice for the mages. That was a promise.

~3 days later~

He didn't mean to scare the elven servant, but he had woken up with a headache and a soreness in most of his body parts. He poured himself some water and grabbed some bites from the food tray nearby. He wasn't really hungry, but his inner mouth felt like stale bread and he wanted all of his senses back up and running at once.

"I'm sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you've wakened. She said 'at once'!"

"And where is she?"

"In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once,' she said!"

The scared servant had run off, probably to alert the Seeker that he was awake. He stretched his limps and tested his walk as he got off the bed after 3 days, if the elf was telling him the truth. Running his hands through his hair, he realized with wonder that they were clean and free of whatever shit had landed on him during the battle with the Pride demon.

Alexander found his armor clean and draped over the back of a chair. Perhaps he could ask what had happened to his robes, if he got a chance. The basin with clean water and a cloth on the desk were another welcome surprise.

Huh.

He picked a note that lied on the desk.

'Patient Observations

Vain hope: Someone better at this than me takes over before the survivor expires. Notes in case.

—Day One—

Clammy. Shallow breathing. Pulse over-fast. Not responsive. Pupils dilated.

Mage says his/her scarring "mark" is thrumming with unknown magic.

Wish we could station a templar in here, just in case.'

Of course they would wish for a templar to keep an eye on the dangerous mage.

Alexander put on the armor. Time to meet Seeker Pentaghast and get some answers. The Circles were no more and like hell he would put up with a glorified templar ordering him around like a puppet.

He opened the cabin door. Twenty Fereldan soldiers were lining the path starting from the cabin, saluting him with their fists on their chests, surrounded by a small crowd of people.

"That's him, that's the Herald of Andraste!"

"Why did Lady Cassandra have him in chains? Andraste herself blessed him!"

The people of Haven stood in attention, bowing their heads in respect and offering him their blessings as he made his way through the crowd to the Chantry.

"Blessings upon you, Herald of Andraste!"

Herald of… Andraste?

He kept walking in awe as people commented on his deeds and showered him with words of encouragement, instead of yells and spit. The revered mothers and clerics stood before the Chantry entrance, arguing about Chancellor Roderick and their lack of leadership. A flock of babbling hens, if you asked him, who were foolishly ignoring the imminent danger that was more than visible and were focusing on who would sign their chantry appointments. Barely a week since Justinia and all those Conclave attendants had perished.

Alexander raised his eyes to the sky where the Breach moved like it was about to shallow everything. The images of the devastation in the Temple and the echoes from the Fade were enough to motivate him do his part. He would not ignore this threat. He could not. If it grew, it would literally end Thedas and they were all doomed, mages and templars, soldiers and farmers, humans, dwarves and elves, commoners and nobles alike.

The doors closed behind him as he entered the Chantry and Alexander inhaled long and deep. He would help the Seeker against this threat with every bit of himself, but he would demand respect and fair treatment. And freedom. He was a Senior Enchanter of the former Circle of Ostwick, not some prisoner to be flaunted around from the leftovers of the Chantry. As long as he was the key to closing those rifts, he would be their equal.

After all, he was 'the man with the glowing hand', as Varric had put it and nobody would ignore his only leverage.

The closer he got to the end of the hall of the Chantry, the louder Seeker's voice was booming from inside the room, steady and passionate. So were the Chancellor's yells as well.

"Have you gone completely mad? He should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine."

"I do not believe he is guilty."

Cassandra was facing off with Chancellor Roderick about… him?

"The prisoner failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, he intended it this way."

"I do not believe that."

"That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to the serve the Chantry."

"My duty is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours."

And she believed him to be… innocent?

Huh.

Time to join this meeting himself and see what had changed during his long sleep.

~oOo~

Cassandra entered the Singing Maiden and headed for the table with the big comfortable chairs near the fireplace that was thankfully empty. She could use the heat right now. And some warm food. And a good drink. Or two.

Earlier that day, the Inquisition was founded again by her and Leliana, with support from Ambassador Montilyet, Commander Cullen Rutherford and of course the Herald of Andraste. Using the authority granted to her and Leliana by Justinia's writ. Maker help her, she hoped she was doing the right thing.

No. They were doing the right thing. At least they were acting. Because if they didn't, it would be too late. She had no doubt of the latter. No matter what it took.

"Good evening Lady Pentaghast, can I get you anything?" Flissa smiled nervously at her as she approached.

It had been a very, very long day.

Wine, I should drink wine

"Is there wine?"

Flissa bit her lower lip. "Spiced w-wine only."

"It'll do. And whatever warm food you have."

"Got Fereldan stew and-"

"Stew will do, thank you Flissa" Cassandra nodded.

"Be right b-back with your food and wine, Lady Pentaghast." Flissa hurried back to her post.

Cassandra took off her gloves and leaned back at her seat, taking in the people in the tavern. Recruits, soldiers, a couple of scouts and few villagers were unwinding, unaware of the long way they had ahead of them, of what the Inquisition meant.

A recruit entered the tavern in a hurry and conversed with Flissa. She hoped it would not take long. She had eaten nothing since morning.

Right then, Trevelyan opened the door. He nodded at her and went also to talk to Flissa. Flissa smiled nervously at him and went on rambling about something, delaying further the serving of her meal. Then he replied and Flissa giggled.

Cassandra was starving and those two were flirting with each other.

Maker help her, she wanted to punch something. Or someone.

Their chit chat ended, and the Herald scanned the tavern, looking everywhere and lastly to her. Apparently having a dinner and some wine alone was a privilege. So be it.

"May I sit?" Trevelyan asked in a cordial tone.

Cassandra gestured impassively and braced herself for awkward silence.

"Here is your stew and wine, Lady Pentaghast." Flissa served her and placed an ale in front of Trevelyan as well. "Would you like some food, Lord Herald?"

"Yes please, stew and any roasted meat, if there is any." Trevelyan drank half of his ale at a gulp and wiped his beard with the back of his hand. Despite her treating him like a mass murderer until few days ago, he had been hesitant but considerate the whole day.

"It is a good idea to eat a large meal, you will need your strength the following days as we travel through the Hinterlands." Cassandra said between swallowing spoonfuls of stew.

"I have been a rebel battlemage for quite some time, Lady Seeker. I can survive in the wilderness. Have some faith." Trevelyan regarded her curiously.

The arrival of his meal halted momentarily any reply she could have given him and they dined in silence, accompanied by the chatter around them and the bard's song.

Cassandra leaned back in her chair and studied the Herald. By every standard, he was a good-looking man, with greenish eyes and rich dark blond hair at mid neck length, held back in a half ponytail. He had a beard and his hands were calloused with chilblains. She made a mental note to urge him to find some gloves. No harm should happen to him, his mark was the most important weapon.

Trevelyan finished his ale and turned to ask Flissa for another. Cassandra also raised her glass signaling for a refill.

"Could you explain something to me, Lady Pentaghast?" Trevelyan seemed to ponder on his words, even after her curt acknowledgement of his request. "What made you change your mind about me?"

"What I told you this morning, Herald. Perhaps I am mistaken again. Your actions will show what you truly are. But right now, you are the person we need, that this world needs to close the Breach and restore order."

Trevelyan tilted his head slightly to his left and locked his gaze to hers. He was careful, perhaps too careful, calculating even. She had to pay close attention to everything he would say.

"And I agreed to help you fix this." He lifted his left palm. "You need this, the world needs it."

Their drinks arrived and this time Trevelyan did not devour his ale fast. Perceptive, that one. Patient when he chose to be.

The urge to punch something started to grow inside her again.

"Spit it out Herald, I don't have all night for your musings." Cassandra squinted her eyes.

"The Circles are no more. I take no orders from Templars or Seekers." The Herald leaned forward, pinning her in her place with those fiery green eyes of his. "I will respect any tactical decisions as your equal and will follow you in battle and fight with you and the Inquisition for now, until we close the Breach and find who is behind this. Because you are the only ones that intend to deal with it and I will do whatever I can, you have my word. But after that, I'm gone." He snapped his fingers and relaxed his posture, sipping his ale.

Cassandra had to hand it to him. Few people had the gall to address her with an attitude stripped of fear.

"I hope you keep that bravado for the demons we will encounter the next days, Herald, you will need it." Cassandra finished her wine and got up from her chair. "I gave you my word and sealed our agreement with a handshake and I take my promises seriously."

"I am aware of that and appreciate it. You need to understand Lady Seeker, during the mage-templar war a promise meant nothing, so the past years have made me rightfully wary. But I hope I will be pleasantly surprised for a change." Trevelyan declared.

"Nothing surprises me in the world anymore. Goodnight, Herald." Cassandra said.

"Lady Pentaghast." Trevelyan raised his mug with a tight smile and released her from his glare.

Cassandra left the tavern with a belly full of food and a feeling of terror unbeknownst to her. There was something about Trevelyan that made her fear him since the moment she laid eyes on him. Only a handful of people had managed to flare up that dreadful reaction inside her and she didn't like it at all, no.

After she undressed in the room that she and Leliana shared, she did the only thing she could. She fell to her knees and prayed to the Maker for guidance, for a clear mind, for a heart that would neither harm a man that seemed to be innocent nor fall for any of his tricks and games.

Andraste preserve her, the war they had declared against chaos and despair would be a long one.

#Cassandra Pentaghast #cassandra x inquisitor #cassandra allegra portia calogera filomena pentaghast #cassandra dragon age #mage inquisitor #my writing #dragon age fanfiction #dai #dragon age inquisition #dai fanfiction #dragon age fandom #my fanfiction #writingdragonage

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 years ago

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Indignity

Part 3 to Indecent and Indentured

This is a dark!Loki and OC fic. It will contain noncon content and possibly other sensitive matters. Please mind the trigger warnings. Explicit content, 18+.

In this chapter: um, sex, some oral, a little bit humiliating.

Note: Thank you to everyone who’s been following this rare Loki fic. I hope you guys enjoy this latest part. It might not be updated as much as my other stuff in the future but I’ve made a little bit of progress in writing.

Please let me know what you think and please reblog if you can. <3

Summary: Sigorna is forced to face her new master.

Sigorna stared out the window. It was too high to jump and the stone was too smooth to climb down. An hour had passed, or so she thought. She hadn’t done more than look out onto the cityscape. She missed her old life already. Wished she had Audun to make her smile. Everything seemed so dire yet so surreal.

She felt as if she would be sick. She finally pulled herself away from the window sill, tentatively approaching the far door. She stuck her head inside, a small bath chamber within. A large marble tub was inset in the floor and a commode in the corner was hidden within a closet. The counter had a basin atop it and shelves lined with vials beneath. Everything was so prepared. It was rather eerie.

Sigorna stepped into the bath chamber and closed the door. There was no lock nor latch on it. It stayed loose in its frame, ready to open at the slightest breeze. There was a pump at the head of the tub, when she pressed it water spewed from several holes along the side of the tub. The basin filled quickly, steam rising in the chamber, almost suffocating her. Or was that her anxiety?

She slipped out of her dress and shivered despite the heat which had filled the room. She folded her clothing over the counter, her shoes beneath, and turned to the tub. She usually washed in the river, but more often than not she used a rag and a small basin. Peasants didn’t have the time to worry about their hygiene as much as the nobles. It was a luxury, one she would have relished otherwise, but all she could think of was Loki. How he had ordered her to wash for him. There could be no mistaking why.

She sunk into the hot water but it hardly made her feel any cleaner. She suddenly had the urge to scrub herself raw. She couldn’t have said otherwise what was the alternative? To lose her brother; her only kin. If only Giermund hadn’t been such a tosser. If only Audun not so gullible. If she let herself drown, she wouldn’t have to do any of it but she doubted Loki would accept that. She couldn’t be certain he would go retrieve her brother and punish him instead.

She climbed out of the tub, wrapping a towel around her body. She gathered her clothing and returned to the main chamber. Her heart was in her throat as movement frightened her. A slender woman was setting down a tray of food on the round table near the hearth. She stayed silent as she approached Sigorna and made to take her clothes from her. She fought for a moment but relented when the woman did not cease her struggle.

“Wait,” She called as the servant neared the door, “Please, what is the hour?”

The woman shook her head and continued to the door. It locked behind her as loudly as before. Is this what it would be? Torturous isolation as she waited for her gaoler to visit. She hugged the towel closer and neared the closet. Within were silks, satins, muslins, and all types of fabrics in various tones. She pulled out what looked to be the longest garment but it did not offer much modesty. The neckline dipped low over her cleavage, the back was almost non-existent, and the silk felt scandalously thin. She searched the single dresser but there were no slips or underclothes to be found. She sat as her stomach twisted painfully.

She sipped from the water, ignoring the bottle of wine brought with her breakfast. The toast was all the could stomach and she left the rest untouched. She crossed to the door, fruitlessly trying to turn the handle. She knew it would be lock but she didn’t want to give in. She was restless. That little voice in her head told her to at least try. She tried looking through the crack beside the door but she only needed to listen to know that no one else was out there. She was suddenly very alone.

She relented as the sun passed it apex. Noon had come and gone and she sat under the desk, her feet stuck out. She knew she couldn’t hide but it felt better. She didn’t have to look at the chamber; the bed; the closet of scant clothing. The servant returned to clear her tray but still did not speak. She wouldn’t even tell Sigorna her name. Perhaps it was better that way.

She crawled out as the sky began to soften outside her window. Her stomach growled but even so, she would not have been able to eat. The servant had left the wine behind. Sigorna uncorked it and dumped it from the window. She set the empty bottle back on the table and sat in the chair, her leg shaking.

She stilled her nerves when she heard footsteps. They were light but determined. Chillingly familiar. The lock slid open and the door followed, revealing the dark-haired prince; her new keeper. The air felt colder on her skin, touching those spots uncovered by her gown. Her exposed cleavage and back forming goosebumps.

“My dear,” He closed the door behind him. He crossed to the table and lifted the empty bottle. He squinted at her curiously and bent to put his face before hers, he sniffed as she breathed. “I do not detect wine on your breath.” He weighed the empty vessel in his hand, “I suspect you dumped it from the window then.” He gripped it before tossing it at the wall over her head, the glass shattering around her.

“Now Sigorna, I’ve been quite accommodating thus far. Your thief of a brother still breathes and all you have to do is live in much better condition than you did before. I truly don’t see why you are so miserable,” His fingers tapped on the table as he loomed over her, “You have your meals brought to you, a selection of activities to keep you busy in my absence, and a lovely view.” She stared up at him, shards of glass settling in the tails of her hair. “I ask for little in return. A little gratuity here and there, and we’ve barely gotten to that just yet.”

“I told you I do not like wine,” She said evenly.

“I never thought a peasant would be so preferential,” He slithered, “Stand.” He backed away, “Now. Before me, dear.”

Sigorna didn’t move for a moment, measuring as she considered his order. His green eyes warned her against disobeying. Slowly she rose, shaking the glass from her hair as she moved forward and stopped before him. He smirked, his hands hovering along her arms as he looked her over. “You washed yourself and dressed. The least of what I asked but it shows potential. I should hate to have to break you entirely, just a little bending.”

He brought his fingers up under her chin so that she looked at him. “Why didn’t you just have him executed? Or me?” She breathed, “Why bring me here?”

He rescinded his hand, his fingers fluttering down her neck briefly. He turned away, looking through the window as he set his shoulders. He inhaled before he spoke, seemingly basking in the situation. He had his own personal pet to taunt. He was drawing it all out in such a painful manner. She was not entirely unhappy for the delay of the inevitable.

“You may have realized by now but this was not entirely spontaneous. This chamber has stood empty for quite some time. I’ve merely been searching for the proper occupant. There were a few servants I had thought to keep here but I found them entirely too dull.” His profile was limned in the setting daylight as he turned, “And the slaves they sell in the underground are too brittle. Far too lifeless.

“Truly, our meeting was entirely chance but it seems now it was serendipity. Your brother needed saving and I needed a bed warmer.” He faced her once more and she stared back speechless.

Having it all laid out made it even more real. She gulped and her nerves split. She turned and darted for the door. She hadn’t heard the lock after his entrance. She pulled it open, the handle turning easily but she was seized around her waist and yanked away from her escape. The door slammed as Loki held onto her with one arm. It locked audibly as he snapped his fingers.

“You’re quick,” He grunted as he struggled with her, “But not quite fast enough.” She tried to pull away from him as he clung to her waist. She could feel a prod as she reached out to grab onto a chair as he dragged her into the room. Her struggle had her wriggling flush against him and it was only enticing him further. “Go on,” He shoved her towards the bed, “I don’t want to tie you down, but I will.”

“This...this can’t be. Please, I could be a chambermaid or...or work the kitchens. The laundries,” She pleaded desperately, “You’re a prince. I’m sure there must be noblewomen eager to court you.”

“I have enough maids,” He said, “And noblewomen bore me. Now, if you don’t start fulfilling your side of our bargain I will have your nitwit brother dragged here and flayed before you and then I will take you anyway.”

She looked at him and knew he could see her surrender. She knew he wasn’t bluffing. She had agreed to this to save Audun and now she would dangle his life once more in the balance. She stood stalk straight, stilled herself and resigned her body to what was to come.

“Now, now, don’t be so dour,” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, “We can take this slow. I prefer a little anticipation.” He loosed her hair from its tie, “One step at a time.” He tugged on a curl, purring at the feel of her thick hair in his hand, “You may undress me.”

Sigorna swallowed, watching his pale hand release her tresses. He stood before her expectantly, his eagerness apparent through the leather of his trousers. He was entirely unashamed of his blatant desire. “Go on,” He said impatiently, “Or we will make this as painful as possible.”

She narrowed her eyes and nodded. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. She reached up and blindly began to unbutton his jacket, fumbling with the first button. He grinned and she fought to keep from showing her discomfort, though it must have been obvious. She pushed the leather down his arms and hung it over the chair before turning back to him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and raised his arms as he pulled up his tunic. She freed his head he watched her intently, “You should’ve had that wine.” He chided.

“I’m fine,” She insisted as he put a foot out. She knelt and unlaced his boot, pulling of one after the other. He stood, towering over her as she numbly brought her hand to his belt. She unbuckled it and freed its from its loops. She put it on the night table and picked at the laces of his trousers, she could tell he had no undershorts on.

She started to push his trousers down his hips and he leaned into her. He caught her hand, loosening his fly, and shoved in inside the leather against his member. He moaned and she fought not to pull back. She waited for him to release her before she continued to lower his trousers until they pooled at his ankles. He sat back on the bed and kicked them away, leaning back on his hands as he put himself on display.

“I don’t need to talk you through this, do I? You look like you’ve handle your share of men before,” He teased.

I know how to castrate a man, she thought but did not speak. She merely nodded and stepped closer to him. He sat up and his hands found the sleeveless shoulders of her dress, pulling the halter over her head roughly. The silk rushed from her body as he let it go, only catching on her hips briefly before leaving her fully exposed.

“Better,” He said, his hand resting on her hip. He traced along her waist, the curve of her stomach, his green eyes hungrily taking in her breasts. She wanted to cover herself. Wanted him to cover himself. She wanted it to be over. It would be easier if she just let him get it done with.

“Take a step back,” He ordered, “Let me have a better look.” She clenched her jaw as she did as he bid. “Turn,” He twirled his finger, his other hand inching closer to his cock, tickling along his base. “Good,” He praised as she turned her back to him, “Now bend. Fingers to toes.”

She pushed back her shoulders before she found her wits. She hesitantly stretched her arms and bent forward, reaching to her feet. He breathed out audibly at the movement and she cringed, closing her eyes. She made to stand but he tutted. “Stay, like that.” He was humming between words.

The bed shifted and she heard him near. She tried not to tremble as she remained prone to him. His hand brushed along her backside and he cupped her rear, squeezing it with growl. His cock brushed her lower back, just above her butt. He dragged it down her flesh, cloyingly pressing on her outer lips before pulling it back.

His hands continued down her legs as he adjusted behind her. She opened her eyes and looked around her legs, he was on his knees. His finger lingered on her thigh before he pressed deeper. “Legs apart he ordered.” She reluctantly parted her legs and he pushed beneath her folds, past her opening and found her clit. She twitched at the sensation.

He circled her bud and she winced. His hair whisked along her thigh as he put his head between her legs, his nose tickling her as his tongue searched. She pulled away without meaning to at the cool feeling of his mouth and he grunted. She tried to step back into place but was shaken by a sudden smack across her backside.

“On your knees,” He slapped her again, the strike stinging her flesh. She lowered herself to the floor and he nudge her lower back. “Bend,” He guided her, “Arch your back,” He grabbed her hips and set the higher, “Mmmmm,” He purred, “Now, Sig,” She inhaled sharply at his use of her pet name, “I don’t want this to be too difficult for you, so let’s be a good girl and stay,” He smacked her ass again, “Still.”

Sigorna twined her hands together as she supported herself on her elbows. She rested her forehead on her hands and closed her eyes, bracing for what came next. Loki’s fingers were exploring her again, on her clit in an instant as he stoked her fire higher. She squirmed even as she fought not to and felt herself growing wet. She didn’t want this but her body paid no heed to her mind.

He drew circles and pressed harder and hard. He dragged another finger back and forth along her opening, spreading her dampness along her folds. He pushed two fingers inside, still toying with her clit as he did. Sigorna bit into her wrist as he began to work in and out of her. She felt the tension building. The heat radiated along her thighs and her muscles clenched and suddenly released. She couldn’t help but arch deeper as she came, her teeth digging into her flesh as she held back a whimper.

Loki removed his hands, wiping her juices along her rear. He sighed and tapped her butt, this time softer. She could hear him moving and felt his warmth dissipate. She gulped and looked back. He was smirking as he sat back down on the bed. “Come on then,” He stroked his cock.

She rose and neared him, the bite mark on her arm burned. He removed his hand and gestured to his member. “Go on,” He leaned back, legs splayed. She reached down and lightly touched him. She inhaled and urged herself on. She gripped him tightly, bringing her hand up his shaft. She repeated the motion, slowly at first. As she quickened her pace she looked at him, his head lolled back as he moaned. She dragged her palm over the head of his member and he twitched, groaning loudly. Maybe if she could finish him then and there, he would leave her.

She stroked him faster, firmer and he caught her hand suddenly. His head was tilted, his eyes alight. “Not so fast,” He pulled her hand from his cock, “Sneaky, sneaky,” He tisked, “Turn.”

She sighed silently as she turned. She shook her head at herself. This wasn’t ever going to be easy so why was she trying? He pushed his legs between hers as he led her back with his hands on her waist. His cock poked at her bottom and released her line to himself up with her opening.

Her legs were spread wide and he lowered her slowly, his head entering her slightly before he pulled her back up. He did it several more times, every time only letting is tip inside. He did it once more and paused as he was about to remove himself. He shoved her down suddenly, his girth filling her sharply and she couldn’t help her yelp. He chuckled and lifted her again. He started the motion, guiding her up and down.

He let go of her hips and let her move on her own accord. She knew if she stopped it would only be worse. He grabbed her elbows and pulled her arms behind her and thrust up into her harder and deeper. Her legs were too short to keep herself steady with him moving below her like that. He leaned back and pulled her with him, continuing his motion as he held her over him.

He turned her over beneath him onto the bed. Her legs hung off as she was bent over she edge. He released her arms and grabbed her hair in both his hands, gathering it and tugging her head all the way back as he pounded her mercilessly. His legs kept hers apart and she felt herself throbbing, already sore from him relentless fucking. He carried on for what seemed an eternity but was still not done.

He flipped her over again, lifting her onto the bed further as he pushed her legs up. He let them rest against his shoulders and climbed onto the mattress and entered her again. He leaned over her until her her knees were almost at her breasts. He lowered his head and his teeth nibbled at her throat before sinking into her flesh. She tugged at his hair as he bit her, the pain unbearable.

“No, no,” She rasped, “Please stop.”

“Stop?” He lifted his head. He thrust into her sharply, hitting her cervix painfully. She gritted her teeth, holding in the pained cry. “Oh, I’m just getting started with you.” He buried his hands in her hair again and pulled back so that her neck and back were awkwardly arched beneath her and her legs still bent to her chest. He didn’t let up and she couldn’t help the groan which escaped her lips between each breath.

He rutted and pulled himself from within her suddenly, aiming his cock so that his seed spewed up her pelvis and along her stomach. He stroked himself until he was finished, purring as she covered her face in shame. He spread his cum across her chest and pulled her hand from her face. He pressed a finger to her lips and she clamped her them shut. “Open.” He ordered dangerously. Reluctantly she obeyed and he slipped his finger in her mouth, wiping his semen along her tongue.

Content, he removed his hand and leaned back. Sweat glistened over his chest and Sigorna felt her body revolting. She was going to be sick. She sat up and pushed him away, scurrying to the other side of the bed. She wasn’t going to reach the bath chamber. She scrambled to the chamber pot and wretched as she heard laughter erupt from behind her.

When she finished, her hair was pulled and she was forced to look up at Loki as he knelt beside her. “Go wash your mouth out,” He commanded, “I’m not done with you yet.” He let her go and stood. His cock was already growing hard again. He yanked her up by her arm when she didn’t move and he shoved her towards the door, “One more infraction and I will tie you down…” He smacked her ass so roughly that she nearly tripped, “And I might not even unbind you when I make my leave, so be quick.”

Sigorna fled into the bath chamber before he could hit her again. Inside she shuddered and wiped the dried cum from her flesh. It would be over soon, she told herself. At least, she hoped it would be.

#loki x oc #loki #dark!loki #dark loki #mcu #marvel #fic #series #indecent #au #oc #dark!verse #darkverse

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ryder-s-block · 5 years ago

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Jaig Eyes (Ch 36)

Jaig Eyes (36/?)

Summary: Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that she's involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?

Always can read on Fanfic.

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Chapter Thirty-Six: Ret’urcye mhi

I knew immediately that I wasn’t really in the room I was seeing. There was a haziness to it, blurring the edges of my vision as if I was squinting hard. The room reminded me of the control center on the Republic frigates, with a holographic console in the center. However, instead of rows upon rows of computers and military personnel, the room expanded into a type of amphitheater. Benches encircled the room, rising up to various levels until they ended at doors on all sides. All of which were closed and locked, it seemed.

I was standing a few rows up, looking down at a group of creatures clad in jedi robes. I recognized the clean-shaven head of Windu immediately, watching his brow crease as he spoke quietly with a little green jedi--Yoda.

Others stood around that I recognized only slightly from either brief encounters, discussions with Anakin and Obi-wan, or from reports I read as a bounty hunter. There was a Twi’lek with magnificent blue skin, her expression passive as she eyed the holoprojector as if she were waiting for it to engage. There was also a female Tholothian, who stood beside a Nautolan I didn’t know. Still, the smile he gave his companion jarred my memory. I’d seen his likeness painted on a Republic attack shuttle, along with the Auberesh words, “Service with a smile.” Fisto. Even bounty hunters knew about him.

The holoprojector hummed to life, revealed more jedi, all standing rather rigid. Some I recognized, such as Plo Koon and Shaak Ti. Others, I didn’t. In the end, there were a total of eleven jedi, both physically present and holographically beamed in.

I’d never seen so many jedi in one place before. It actually unnerved me.

My nerves only got worse when a final hologram appeared, revealing Obi-wan, Anakin standing behind him silently. Anakin’s face was drawn in worry, as if he was lost in deep thought.

“Obi-wan,” Windu started, drawing the attention of all jedi present. “You called an emergency meeting. What happened with Dooku?” My heart stopped at his words. It was a Jedi Council meeting. Something told me, from Windu’s words, that the meeting was about me.

Obi-wan fidgeted slightly, glancing back to exchange a sad look with Anakin before speaking to the Council. “He escaped, as he has in the past. But my report is not of how we lost him, but how we survived him.”

Yoda hummed lowly, leaning on his cane. “Moved, the Force has. Felt it, we did.”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” Obi-wan said respectfully. “Anakin and I had been captured, as well as all of our men. Kida kept everyone from being executed, ourselves included.”

“How was she not captured with the rest of the army?” Shaak Ti’s hologram asked, her accented voice soft, but strong.

“Her ship had been shot down amidst our battle, Master,” Anakin jumped into the conversation, seeming almost eager. “She survived the crash and managed to find us on Vandor.”

Windu stood silently, rubbing his jaw. “Kida’s involvement in your rescue is related to this shift in the Force, isn’t it?”

“She saved our lives,” Anakin started, practically desperate to speak. “She just needs guidance.”

It registered that Skywalker was trying his best to protect me.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-wan cut in, giving Anakin a look. “I had known she was Force sensitive, and that she had a powerful Force signature. But I could never have foreseen…” His words trailed off, as if he was hesitating to say anything further.

“What has she done?” Windu asked, his voice harsh. I crinkled my nose at him, almost wanting to go over and hit him. I wasn’t really in the room, of course, so I could have at least pretended.

But something whispered in my mind that the Force was enabling me to see this for a reason. And that if the Force was doing it, the jedi could possibly sense me. So I wasn’t going to be Force-slapping any jedi masters at that moment.

“Awakened, her abilities have.” Yoda wasn’t responding to Windu. Nor was he asking a question. He said it like he was merely musing the concept. Like he had been meditating, rather than listening to the report. He opened his wrinkled eyes slowly, gazing sadly to Obi-wan. “Dangerous, she has become. Powerful.”

The entire Council turned to watch Obi-wan respond. Only Anakin looked away, his face a conflict of emotions.

“She stood up to Dooku,” Kenobi said slowly. “She displayed abilities even I don’t have.” His face was almost wistful as he continued. “She’d always been connected to the Force--we’ve all felt that. But there was a moment in that room, when she chose to reveal herself, that the Force seemed to flow through her endlessly.”

“I’d never felt anything like it,” Anakin spoke quietly. “It didn’t feel like when a jedi uses the Force, or when a Sith does. It was entirely...different.”

“Untamed,” Obi-wan offered.

“Dangerous,” Windu countered, crossing his arms. “Far too dangerous to have leading troops in this war.”

“Master, she saved our lives. And it wasn’t the first time she’s put herself at risk for the Republic.” Anakin’s words were kind, but the other jedi didn’t seem as hopeful as him.

“Her actions may be good now, Skywalker,” Shaak Ti reasoned gently, quieting the younger jedi. “But someone so powerful with no teaching in the ways of the Force could be tempted easily.”

“Obi-wan was giving her lessons,” Anakin responded, making my eyebrows raise. I wondered briefly if Skywalker had known before or if that information was just him being filled in after my reveal. “He could continue to teach her.”

“She’s too old,” Plo Koon finally spoke, his voice metallic through his mouth piece. To my surprise, the Council seemed to be bickering as I watched. I’d always imagined their meetings to be quaint and tight lipped. And maybe they usually were.

I had a talent for rubbing people the wrong way, it seemed.

“Masters,” Obi-wan said loudly, bringing the discussions to a standstill. “She’s already felt the draw to the Dark Side,” he confessed, his expression sad. “And caved to it.”

My chest got tight as the room remained silent, the Force rippling with their shared concern. The first to make a sound was Yoda, his head shaking as he hummed sadly.

“Too late, we so often are. Clouded, our vision is.” His words weren’t exactly what I expected.

“She’s had a hard life,” Anakin added in gently. “A slave. Tortured for years. She’s lost everything. Watched her only parent die. All she’s known is war.”

“As have you, young Skywalker,” a Cerean with a white beard said softly. “Yet here you stand.”

Maybe it was because my unconscious body was near Skywalker, or maybe it was because he was so intensely strong with the Force that I felt his emotions shift. They twisted and swelled with frustration.

“I’ve had training. I have the Jedi Order. She’s had nothing!”

“Made it difficult to see, this war has. Hidden from us, many children are.” I assumed Yoda was referring to the Force-sensitive kids the jedi would take from their homeworlds to come and live in the temple.

“Even you, Skywalker,” the Twi’lek said, her voice pleasantly accented. “We would have not have found had Obi-wan and Qiu Gon not had to land there.” I wondered if that was due to the darkness of the times or that Tatooine was an outer rim planet. You didn’t hear about a whole lot of kids coming in from the Outer Rim to be a jedi.

“The past cannot be changed,” Windu spoke in his baritone voice. “We must decide what to do now.”

The room was quiet for a moment until Anakin spoke on my behalf. “She’s not a bad person. She hasn’t fallen yet. She was desperate to save us. That one moment shouldn’t be the only deciding factor in her fate.”

“Anakin is right,” Obi-wan joined his former padawan. “Kida has proven herself again and again. One mistake should not doom her.”

“These are dangerous waters we are wading into,” Fisto voiced. “She is too old to become a jedi. But her apparent abilities are too strong to be left untamed. Especially in the Republic army.”

“They’ve never been a problem before,” Anakin interrupted.

“Admittedly,” Plo Koon agreed with a nod of his head. “Her inclination towards the Force may even have saved your life, Master Windu.”

Windu hummed lowly, touching his knuckle to his chin. “Admiral Killian has only ever spoken highly of the girl,” he allowed. “And we cannot deny the good she has done for the Republic and its assets.”

“Perhaps,” the Tholothian leapt in. “But then we must not deny the bad. She is a bounty hunter, after all.”

“Not all bounty hunters are inherently criminals,” Shaak Ti voiced. “Nor should we resort to any possible criminal past to punish her, as we were more than happy to work with her under that pretense before.” The Torgruta sighed, tucking her hands into her pooling sleeves. “We must remember that we have bounty hunters within our GAR even here in the training facilities. If we turn on one for her past as a bounty hunter, we could lose them as well.”

“Indeed, not to mention that the bounty hunters on Kamino knew Kida well,” Obi-wan added thoughtfully. “Many bounty hunters respect Kida for both her abilities and her connection to Jango Fett.”

“Not just bounty hunters,” Plo Koon said. “But she’s done jobs for many crime syndicates, as well.”

“And you think they or a bounty hunter would leap to her defense?” the Cerean asked skeptically.

“Likely not,” Fisto responded. “But as per your previous reports, she has a close connection with the Hutt Clan. Is that bond close enough that it would jeopardize our ability to travel through Hutt space?” He was addressing Obi-wan now.

“I don’t know,” the jedi admitted. “But I know that what connection she did have, it was with Jabba himself. He would be the one to determine if our safe travel remained.”

“This issue is no longer if she was a bounty hunter,” the Twi’lek interrupted. “We are now discussing the threats of what loyalties she holds, should we act against her at all.”

Obi-wan hummed while he stroked his beard. “Yes, Kida has quite a reputation, not just in the underworld, but even in the Republic now.”

“The men look up to her,” Anakin added softly. “And I know there are quite a few senators who consider her a friend.”

“Difficult, this decision is,” Yoda allowed. “Inside the web of our war, she is tied.”

“Obi-wan,” Windu said curtly, commanding attention. “Is she or is she not to be considered a threat?”

My friend was quiet for a long moment before breathing slowly. “She is genuinely a good person. She cares for others. That’s why she even agreed to join this war. She is skilled. Concise. Practiced.” His words tapered off as he looked around. “The last time we discussed this girl’s fate, I gave my word that she wouldn’t be a threat. That her biology did not make her dangerous.”

I sat heavily on one of the benches, knowing he was about to say “but.”

“But,” there it was. “The way it felt when she used the Force was unlike anything. At first, it was just unruly, but unbelievably powerful. And then Dooku began talking. He got inside her head and the entire room shifted. It was like the Dark Side blossomed from inside her. It overpowered everything in the room. She could have defeated Dooku on her own, had she not stopped herself.”

“She stopped herself?” Shaak Ti asked for clarification.

“Yes. She stopped and the darkness faded when she saw me. It seems,” Obi-wan sighed sadly. “That our opinion has quite an effect on her.”

“That was what Dooku used against her,” Anakin jumped in, his voice dark. “He used her fear of what the Council would think. Of what you’d do to her because she used her abilities.”

“Dangerous, fear is. A path to the Dark Side, fear is.” Yoda hummed in thought as the conversations about my fate resumed.

“We cannot have her in our military. If she turned, she could bring us all down,” the Cerean voiced.

“Decommission her then,” Fisto offered. “She can return to her life of bounty hunting none the wiser.”

“She knew what happened in that room, Master,” Obi-wan argued gently. “It’s...changed her. I’ve never felt her afraid like that before.”

“We cannot leave her to wander with these new abilities,” an Iktotchi male said from the holograms. “It would leave her open to fall to the Dark Side’s temptations. Especially with Dooku now knowing her power.”

“Prison?” the Twi’lek asked, glancing around the room. “She would be contained. Easily monitored. Her adoptive brother is there, as well. It may even be good for the both of them.”

Anakin shook his head, chuckling darkly. “She can be trusted. She doesn’t need to be put in a prison.”

“Nor do I know if that would stop our worries,” Windu allowed. “Should her powers swell like they did against Dooku, she could massacre the prison. Or stage a break out.”

“You all sound like you want to kill her!” Anakin yelled, looking around at the placid faces. His own expression fell. “Is that what you’re planning to do?”

“It is something we must consider,” Shaak Ti said gently. “As a last resort, should she complete her fall. Destroying the Sith is the duty of the jedi.”

The Council was quiet as they faced that possibility. It comforted me that they at least didn’t seem like they wanted to straight up murder me. Of course, that didn’t take away from the sting of the fact that they were considering murdering me anyways.

“Obi-wan,” Yoda’s voice cut through the tension, drawing my gaze back to his small stature. “Holding something back, you are.”

Anakin and Obi-wan both fidgeted uncomfortably, the younger of the two looking away entirely. His face was warped with distress. Sadness. Anger.

“Yes, Master Yoda,” Obi-wan allowed finally, heaving a slow breath. “When the darkness within her rose to its peak, Kida spoke words I’m sure she was never told before, since she knows little of the jedi and the sith.”

He was hesitating to speak. Even I wondered for a brief moment what he meant until I recalled the horrible voice in my head. And the words it had fed into my mind.

“What did she say?” Windu asked cautiously.

Obi-wan glanced around the room, his blue eyes wide with distress. “It wasn’t the whole thing, but I’m sure it’s what it was.” That didn’t answer any questions. The room seemed to feel the same as me, leaning a bit closer to entice the words from Kenobi’s mouth. He let out another slow breath. “The Dark Side took over, even if it was only for a few moments, when she recited the final lines of the Code of the Sith.”

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I bolted upright, my body complaining from the sharp movement. My right shoulder in particular twinged, reminding me of the lightsaber wound I’d received there. A part of me wanted to roll my eyes. Yet another scar to add to the long list.

And then I was jolted back to reality when I felt Anakin’s frustrated presence aboard the same ship as me. Near his signature was Obi-wan’s, which admittedly, didn’t seem to be much more content than his counterpart.

I hadn’t been able to hear what decision they’d made. Maybe they hadn’t even made one yet. The hairs on my arms stood up as I thought about the last thing Obi-wan had said. I’d recited the Sith Code. The voice in my head...it was sith. Despite that, I was still confused. The voice in my head had saved me. Had saved my friends.

And now the jedi were possibly plotting my murder.

My fear made me hyper aware of the room. A monitor beeped beside me, electrodes slipping under the red fatigues I was dressed in. My armor and weapons, battered as they were, lay piled in the corner. The wide viewport beside my bed showed that we were nestled in a small fleet of Republic ships, the stars looking dim against the bright lights of the cruisers.

I swallowed thickly before swinging my legs over the side of the hospital bed, my body complaining. I turned off the monitor quickly. My energy was sapped, but I was being driven by fear for my own safety.

Despite not wanting to listen to Dooku, I couldn’t help but hear his words in my mind as I gathered my things in my arms.

“You’re afraid. Afraid of what the Council will do with you.”

I swallowed again, pulling the pillowcase loose and throwing my things inside, leaving out my wrist gauntlet. Tugging on my boots, I slung the crisp white pillowcase I’d fashioned into a bag over my shoulder. I’d blend in more in the red fatigues, despite my obvious uniqueness from the clones.

My wrist gauntlet still worked, thank Ka’ra. I tapped it to life, Apex lighting up since I was back in a signal range, aboard a frigate.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, miss,” Apex said immediately.

But I had no time for pleasantries. “Exit strategy. Now. And keep it quiet.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, despite the AI’s inclination towards sassy disobedience, his systems were smart enough to know when not to talk back and just do what he’s told. The screen on my wrist gauntlet flickered with his calculations as I exited my room silently.

The halls were filled with wandering clones, some in their red fatigues, but most in their armor.

“Afraid of what your friends will think,” I heard Dooku’s voice say again. His words urged me forward, my eyes on the floor as I passed through the halls.

With no official exit strategy, I didn’t realize where my feet were taking me until I found myself entering the corridor filled with officers’ quarters. The tickle in the back of my mind told me that Rex was inside his room, trying to sleep. He was restless, though, tossing his body sideways in an attempt to get comfortable.

His rest had likely been an order from Skywalker, considering the clone captain had been electrocuted multiple times that day.

Was it the same day?

I realized I didn’t actually know if it was.

I swallowed thickly, hearing my wrist gauntlet beep. It drew my eye, the screen showing the way through a diagram of the frigate. It led to the escape pods.

“I’m not taking a pod,” I hissed. I almost wished Windu was aboard, but I knew from my vision that he was back in the temple on Coruscant. I would’ve enjoyed stealing his starfighter again.

And considering he seemed to be gently advocating for my death, I wouldn’t have returned it this time.

“I’ve dispatched Pinky with your shuttle. She should be there by the time you escape. After you’ve concluded whatever you plan on doing once you get your ass moving.” Ah. The cheek was back.

“Shut up,” I grumbled, turning down his volume.

As he quieted towards a total mute, I heard him say, “A thank you would be nice.” I didn’t give him one, sensing Rex stirring again inside his room. I wondered if he’d heard me outside. It didn’t matter. I steeled myself and stepped forward, rapping my knuckles against the cold metal door.

His head shot up immediately, trained to be tense. To be suspicious. To be a target in war. His movements were slow behind the door. Practiced and silent. There was a pistol in his hand as he pressed the button that opened the door.

“It amazes me that you can be paranoid even on your own ship,” I said as the door hissed open.

Rex didn’t respond, merely staring at me in shock. A million questions swam in his gaze, but he couldn’t seem to get any of them out. I rolled my eyes--a faked ease that I was using to cover the terrified trembling in my knees--and pushed past him into his room.

The quarters were small, with a single bed with starched clean sheets, a table for his armor, which was piled neatly upon it, and a night stand where his other pistol laid. A door at the back corner led to what I assumed was the fresher.

“Kida,” he said finally, his voice gruff. “You’re up.”

“How long was I out?”

My curt response seemed to take him off guard. “Not...not as long as we thought you would be. Not even a full day. You were barely responsive at all when we first got you aboard.”

I nodded slowly. “You carried me. Thank you.”

“You saved my life first.” His voice was gentle, but I knew he was itching to understand.

I sat on the edge of his bed--an action which only heightened his nerves--and regarded the man slowly. He was in his blacks, but he didn’t seem comfortable at all. He fidgeted in front of me, standing as straight as he would when addressing a superior. His trigger finger tapped endlessly at the side of his pistol.

“You have questions.” His golden gaze, which had been fixated on the wall, cut to me sharply. He didn’t have to speak, since I could practically hear his growled ‘duh.’ I sighed slowly. “You already knew I could use the Force.”

“You said you couldn’t use it like the jedi.” He was suddenly defensive. Suspicious. For some reason, his reaction hurt me more than the jedi likely planning my death.

“I wasn’t lying, Rex.”

“Then what would you call what you did on Vandor?”

“I’d call it saving your life,” I bit, my own frustration flaring. Still, I felt that darkness lurking at the edge of my mind. I silenced my rising anger, afraid of what would be waiting for me down that path. “I didn’t… I’ve never done anything like that before. I didn’t even know I could.”

Maybe it was the brokenness of my voice or the surprising water that was rising in my eyes that made Rex’s anger melt away. Slowly, he moved to sit beside me, the bed shifting under me as his weight joined mine.

“That was...incredible,” he offered, still in shock.

“It was terrifying,” I countered, glancing sideways at him. “And it’s ruined everything.”

His golden eyes narrowed in thought at my words. “What do you mean? We’re all alive because of you.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice it, Rex. I can feel your fear. You’re trying to hide it from me, but I can feel it.”

The captain grumbled lowly. “Using the Force isn’t fair.”

“I’m not a jedi,” I argued. “I’m a bounty hunter. We don’t play fair. Now stop avoiding the subject.”

He was quiet for a moment before answering. “I’ve always enjoyed watching you fight. I’ve described it to you before that it’s almost like you’re dancing. But in that chamber on Vandor...something changed.”

“Because I used the Force?”

“No.” Rex shook his head. “There was a moment when your face just...turned. You weren’t desperate to save us. You weren’t even trying to save yourself. You were just...angry. Your goal had shifted from saving...to destroying.”

“I know,” I breathed. “It scares me too.”

He breathed slowly. “Have you talked to General Skywalker? Maybe he could--”

“I have to leave, Rex.” It hurt me to cut him off. It hurt me to say those words. The look of shock on his face faded to sadness and betrayal.

“Wha-- why?”

“The Jedi Council didn’t trust me before all of this. They certainly won’t trust me now. Even now, they’re trying to figure out how to either control me, or kill me.”

“Kida,” Rex sighed. “General Kenobi would never allow--”

“Kenobi is the one who’s been reporting on me to the Council. I’m sorry, Rex but it’s true.” I paused, glancing down at my hands. “One of their options is to kill me.”

“They wouldn’t do that.”

“I saw it, Rex. I saw them talking.”

“How…” his words tapered off. “The Force?” he asked, to which I nodded. “I won’t let them. No one is going to hurt you.”

“You know you couldn’t stop them if you tried, Rex,” I said gently. “I need to go. You know this. I need to figure out what this thing that’s calling me is. Learn how to control…” I looked at my hands again. “This.”

He swallowed slowly, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. “You don’t have to run away from this, Cyare.”

“I’m trying not to die.”

“We can face this.”

“Stop it, Rex.” He stopped, watching my face carefully at my stern voice. “They will never let me be free. I have to figure this out on my own. Without the jedi’s influence. Without the Republic.”

“Without me,” he completed dejectedly. I’d never heard him speak in such a way before.

“I didn’t say that.” Rex looked up in shock, meeting my stormy gaze. I wondered if it was the fear that was giving me such courage in a subject I barely knew. “Come with me,” I whispered, leaning over to grab his wrist gently.

I let him sit in silence, thinking over my words. They were big. And it would be tough for him. His arm turned over slowly, his long fingers curling around my wrist in turn. A small, hopeful smile came to my face.

“No.”

My smile melted, my hand drawing away. His fingers caught mine, though, keeping me from pulling away entirely.

“Look at me,” he said softly, tilting his head to try and meet my eyes again. “Please, cyare, look at me.” I finally did, seeing pain, but also genuinity on his face. “I can’t go. You know that. My duty is here.”

“It could be with me,” I surprised myself with my words. They were practically breathed out from between my lips, carried with a surprising amount of sorrow.

His forehead wrinkled in pain. “It can’t be. You know that. I can’t desert.”

I looked at my lap again, finally successfully pulling my hand from his grasp. “Right. It was stupid to ask.” I stood, stooping to scoop up my pillowcase bag again.

“Cyare,” he sighed, moving to stand with me. “Kida,” he tried again, failing to make me turn still. His hand grasped my upper arm firmly, turning me to face him by force. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“You could have fooled me, Rex.” I tried to pull away, but Rex’s grip was impressively tight.

“Kida you don’t understand. I don’t call you cyare lightly. I don’t take my feelings for you lightly.”

They were words I’d wanted to hear for a long time. Since we’d been marooned at Cut’s farmhouse. But in that moment, they were almost sour. I’d have preferred he yelled. Preferred he was afraid, even.

I wished that he wanted me to go. That he never wanted to see me again.

This affection, but refusal to go...it hurt too much.

“I have to go, Rex,” I said softly, my voice more broken sounded than I wanted it to be.

“Kida,” he whispered, drawing closer. His lips were by my ear, his breath tickling the wisps of hairs there. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

My eyes closed, tears leaking out when I hadn’t given them permission to do so. I’d never heard those words before. They were beautiful, even in the harsh dialect of Mando’a. But while they were amazing and enveloped me in a warmth, they also stung like daggers. In a burst of emotion, I turned in his grasp, my free hand coming up to grab the front of his black shirt. I pulled his tall frame down, lifting my head to press my lips against his.

He seemed shocked for only a short beat before his other hand came up to rest on my cheek, the first still wrapped around my upper arm. His lips were softer than I would have imagined them to be, considering he was a soldier. Then again, they were fed all of the nutrients they needed to stay as physically inclined as possible. I guess that led to health all around.

The kiss was messy at first as the intelligent man quickly learned the new experience. It didn’t take him long to take over, the hand on my arm releasing to curl around my waist. It was inexperienced. Messy. Frantic. Emotional.

And wonderful.

It practically hurt my lips to pull away. My fist, still clenched in the front of his shirt, released slowly to push his chest backwards. Our breathing was a bit shorter as we stood in silence, quiet tears still sliding down my face.

One of his rough thumbs lifted to wipe them from my cheek. I caught his hand, pushing it away as well.

I sniffed slowly. “Maybe you do,” I finally whispered in response to his words. “But it’s not enough for you to come with me.”

The hurt that radiated off of him stung like a whip across my shoulders. I drew away from him, his door opening at the press of my hand. He followed like he was in a daze, stopping only when he reached the threshold of his room.

“Kida,” he breathed. I could tell he was desperate for words, but there were none for him to speak.

“Goodbye, Rex,” I whispered. “Ret’urcye mhi.”

The captain was silent, staring sadly at me as the door hissed closed between us. I angrily held back a sob that threatened to come up my throat before glancing at my wrist gauntlet.

I followed the path Apex had planned for me diligently, my eyes glued to the floor, fingers curled tight around the pillowcase. The escape pods were unguarded, as would make sense since my departure from the medical wing had yet to be noticed.

I opened one, setting my bag inside.

“Kida.” I turned at the familiar voice, a part of me wishing it belonged to Rex. I knew it didn’t, though.

“Please don’t try to stop me, Anakin,” I responded gently, seeing the jedi standing outside the escape pod.

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t answer his question. “Did the Council decide what they wanted to do with me?”

Anakin’s eyes widened for only a moment before he pieced it together. “They’re...still undetermined.”

“I’m not sticking around to wait for them to decide how to kill me.”

“They won’t-” he started, but his words faltered. Even he doubted if they would keep me alive. He breathed through his nose. “It’s wrong of them not to trust you. You saved our lives.”

“Maybe,” I allowed. “But they’re right in that there’s a darkness speaking to me. I need to figure out what it is. I need to learn to control this.”

“The jedi can--”

“Not from the jedi, Anakin. You know I wouldn’t do well with your...rules.”

“Well, neither do I,” he argued. “But with us, you can still do good. Like you wanted to.” Over his shoulder, a clone in 501st armor appeared, his blond hair buzzed short. Rex. He seemed like he’d been running to catch up, but stopped suddenly when he saw Anakin.

It seemed duty would win out again.

“I can’t stay, Anakin,” I said softly, looking away from Rex’s desperate gaze to meet the jedi’s again.

His blue eyes were conflicted, but I could tell the conflict didn’t lie with me. “I know,” he said finally. “Please…be careful.”

I smiled sadly in the doorway, my hand lifting to press the door key that would seal me in and launch me from the port. “You too.” With that, the doors hissed closed and the thrusters engaged, sending me away from the frigate and the GAR, towards where I knew Pinky would be waiting to pick me up.

In the tiny viewport, I saw Rex’s face, his face drawn harshly with sorrow, shrinking as I put more distance between us.

-----------------------------

MANDO’A

Ka’ra-- stars (ancient mandalorian myth--ruling council of fallen kings)

Cyare-- beloved

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum--I love you

Ret’urcye mhi-- Maybe we’ll meet again (Goodbye)

11 notes · View notes

justfangstvdto · 6 years ago

Text

Open Coffin | Chapter 24: “All´s Fair and Karma is a Bitch”

Pairing: Kol x SalvatoreSister!Reader

Chapter Summary: A surprising return sets the reader and Kol on a path of no return..

Warnings: canon-divergent lore (it'll make sense when you read it, I promise) this one is also mostly focused on Kol, angst, typical tvd violence, so much dialogue, canon divergence

Word count: 4389

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Open Coffin Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

Recap:

What’s going on?” Is all you could manage to bring out before you grab the couch again, this time covering the floor before you with a steady stream of blood. It feels like you’re drowning in your own blood.

With your brain in overdrive, you feel your vision declining the more blood is coming out of your mouth, before suddenly everything engulfs into black, as if someone flipped of a light in a dark room. You fall back against Kol unconscious, blood dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“What did you do?!” Kol grits through his teeth, as he scoops you up in his arms to lay you down on the couch behind him..

“Not a thing. She brought that on herself.” Mae shrugs without a care in the world “But this is only the beginning…Say goodbye to the Y/N you know and love. She won’t be the same when she wakes up.”

“Speak. Now!” Kol demands. If she´ss not cooperating soon, Kol will resort to deliciously brutal alternatives, no matter if you claim that she’s your friend. He doesn’t care.

“Patience.” Mae says, her voice layer with a tick of annoyance “But first, I have someone here who is dying to talk to you.”

Kol straightens up, as the sound of heavy boots echoes in the hall. He couldn’t see the person’s face at first due to the blinding sunlight, but when he finally does, all he wants to do is run for his life….

“Surprised to see me?” Klaus smug smile evokes many feelings in Kol, but surprise? No, Kol is not surprised in the slightest. His brother has always managed to get what he wants, the way he wants. Of course, he would find a way to cheat death.

He looks at his older brother, then back to the couch, stepping in his line of sight. Maybe he would focus his rage on him instead of you. But that's might just wishful thinking on his part.

“I'm pretty sure you went up in flames..” Damon Mutter, not quite believing his eyes.

“Oh, I very much did. Quite unpleasant, really. But my dear Maeyra used her vast resources to secure my well-being.” He says, moving his attention to Kol “Cat's got your tongue, brother?”

“Well, brother, I´m not particularly surprised to see you,” Kol replies.

Using the word brother remains to be more of a dismissive term, and Klaus knows that. And he also knows that Kol´s statement is a lie, he didn´t overlook the obvious surprise on his brother's face. However mischievous Kol remains to be, he has always been a bad liar.

“Can we, uh get back to how you´re even here right now?” Stefan says “We drove a stake through your heart.”

“You?” Klaus scoffs, dismissing their involvement to nothing but a coincident “You, gentlemen, were nothing but a pawn - an accessory if you will- to Y/N´s Shakespearean thirst for revenge.”

Stefan quirks his eyebrows up before letting them fall back to their usual resting position. He could reply to Klaus statement verbally. He had things to say about him, he just isn't sure he wants to waste time bothering.

“I knew you couldn´t be trusted.” Damon says, averting his words to Mae “Y/N always did have poor taste in friends.”

“Congratulations, you got me. Boohoo.” Mae sighs, before giving Klaus a pleading look “Would you mind? ”

Klaus smiles and vamp-speeds towards Damon standing nearest and snaps his neck, before quickly moving on to Stefan who couldn't even register what was going on before he too was engulfed in blackness.

“Now, that's better.” Klaus dusts off his hands, “All talk those Salvatores. Well, except for one. “

“Look, “Kol says, having more pressing matters to attend than useless platitudes, “I´d love to chat about whatever this is, but I have an unconscious girlfriend covered in blood back there, so would you mind buggering off. Your betrayal is not on my to-do list today.”

“Betrayal?” Klaus laughs, fake offended “Don't be so dramatic, brother. Maeyra and I merely joined forces because you couldn't keep your girl in line. She helped me lift my curse, I felt obligated to help her. After all, what's worth dying for if not love?”

Love...Kol could not even begin to associate that word with anything his brother does. It makes him sick to his stomach. Or perhaps it´s the worry about your current condition- either way, he senses a veil of danger in the air. Danger that feels different, blood curling and cold.

What if she's right and you won't be the same. But what if-

He pushes the thought aside. If they want to lay their secrets bare for once, he’ll bite their bait.

“Curse?” He asks “What curse?”

“It ain't a curse exactly, but you know, it's six of one, half dozen of the other,” Mae says as she walks further into the room, going straight for your unconscious form. She reaches out, but Kol's firm grasp on her wrist prevents any contact.

“Hands off. “ He warns and everyone knows he'll only warn once.

“I could say the same. “Klaus says, the usual charismatic and boastful s voice nothing but a dangerous whisper.

“Oh, so much Testosterone…” Mae sighs under her breath and pulls her hand free from Kol and heads for the bar. The next bit requires booze. And a lot of it.

Kol follows her every move, while also keeping tabs on Klaus. He's unsure who out of them will screw things up first or who’ll drive him to insanity- whichever comes first.

“Long story short, the magic I once possessed was stored away in here before I became a vampire.” She says and brushes over the scar on her face “The sacrifice of an original was the ultimate source to overpower the protection spell. It was the only way to retrieve said power, alongside rare ingredients I've gathered for the last 100 years. This spell was supposed to set my magic free. But someone must have intercepted it. ”

“Wasn't us.” Kol shakes his head and judging by the look on his opposer they don´t seem convinced. “I never heard of a spell like this. And magic drains away during the transition, how would you retrieve it?”

“Because my magic was hidden away before I was turned, it wasn't lost like yours was. See it as a loophole, no magic drains away if it's undetected.”

Kol read about witches hiding their magic in objects, but never in themselves.

“And what about Y/N? She never had powers.”

“Turns out Momma Salvatore had powers of her own. Weak power but enough to pass it on to Y/N. After her birth, she chose to hide her magic within her. She wanted to tell her when she was older, to give her a choice, but she died before she could do so.”

“And do tell, how do you know this?”

“I might have stolen her diary a few centuries ago. Apparently, everyone in this family is keeping diaries.” She shrugs before rummaging around in her bag, “It's no use to me now if you want it, it's yours.” She slides the worn leatherbound book over the table.

“Now now, love,” Klaus says and leans towards her as if he's sharing a terrible secret “don't skip the best part.”

“Y/N is in transition, fighting a battle in her mind that either leaves her with vampire advantages and witch powers or…” She says, and hesitates for a second “well…..dead. “

Kol feels like someone tightened a noose around his neck. If you look close, you could see the perfected mask of pretend crumbling down and ram emotions taking over. And Kol's first emotion is always its anger.

He digs his fingertips into the leather, and slowly drags his eyes off the carpeting and states at his opponents, ready for torturing the truth out of them if he has to.

“Before you go all Dexter on me, there is a way to help. But you ain't gonna like the cost.”

Klaus turns his head at her words, quickly shaking his head “Out of the question. I will not allow it.”

“Tell me.” Kol demands “Tell me what we have to do to save her.”

There's no question that Kol will do whatever it takes.

No matter the cost.

--------

Kol had forgotten how much he used to enjoy watching the sunrise. The light streaming into the living room is bold and free for anyone who cares to open their eyes in the dawn and watch the world awake.

Even when the world was drowning in grief and hardship, the sky remained beautiful. It always gave him hope that if the sun keeps rising, so could he.

Even though his name alone represents darkness, he always found it humorous when the rising sun would shine a light on his bloody indiscretions committed during the dark hours of the day.

But none of that matters, it hadn't mattered since he stumbled into his life. He doesn't need the sunrise anymore, he sees the light beneath the darkness on his own now. And he wonders how much good it´ll do him when-

A knock on the doorframe interrupts his thoughts, and he turns his head towards the intruder.

“Still nothing?” Stefan asks, and Kol shakes his head.

Stefan, alongside his brother, woke up in the midst the preparations to ensure your survival. They demanded answers as they do, but soon realized that the cost, however great it is, must be

The only opponent of said plan was, to everyone's surprise, Klaus.

“The cost is too great, brother. Let her fight on her own.” Is what he said. Of course, his brother would only think of himself if he were in his shoes. Kol didn't expect anything else. Nonetheless, the plan was executed all the same, with or without Klaus approval.

“It will work, I assure you.” Kol says, the tone in his voice, less confident than he intended “But I have a favour to ask. Do not mention it when she wakes up. She won't accept it”

“I won't. Damon won´t either, I´ll make sure of it.”

Kol nods his head as a silent thank you. Stefan attention bounces around the room, looking at the couch, then back to Kol, before he clears his throat and steps further into the room.

“You know I, uh. I wouldn't know what I would've done if she-”. He pauses, “Just.. thank you for helping. “

“Don't thank me yet. Y/N will-… you know how she is. She'll take it out on you when she learns the truth”

“I know. “Stefan sighs and looks over to the couch, suddenly remembering why he stepped into the room in the first place. “Uh right.. I found this upstairs. She's gonna need it” He reaches into his pocket and hands Kol your daylight ring.

Promptly, Kol reaches for your hand slides the ring on your fingers with care, holding onto your hand afterwards.

“I hope you can forgive me someday.” He says, his voice faint as a whisper.

He didn't care if Stefan - or anyone else for that matter - heard him.

“I´ll uh,” Stefan clears his throat “I´ll give you some space. Got some things to take care of anyway. My number is in Y/N´s phone, call if you need anything.”

Kol knows he should say something, a thank you perhaps, but he lets Stefan walk away against his better judgment.

---

You were out cold for another hour, the only sign of life was your shallow breathing and the occasional wincing. And Kol remained a wreck. He tried pacing the room to calm his nerves, he tried reading and drinking - nothing helped.

So he waited and waited. Then just as the hand of the clock strikes another hour, your hand that's resting on the sofa balls to a fist and he sees you sit up, breathing heavy.

“Darling?” He asks wearily, rushing to your side. But He's met with nothing but silence. “Y/N, talk to me.”

“I'm fine, I just…what fuck? I feel like I’m.. honestly, I feel like I’m high on something. Everything feels more vibrant and.. weird.”

Kol smiles and thinks back to the time where he first tapped into his magic it felt like he was surrounded by buzzing energy, ready to be He´d count your reaction as a good sign that the plan worked.

“What's wrong?” You ask, not having missed the worry on Kol's face. “What did I miss?

He has absolutely no idea how to tell you the news without either setting you off to everyone involved, presumably raining hellfire upon them, or…….. actually no, that's his main concern, So he starts with your new and unexpected powers instead. How your mother had witch powers and hid it within your bones. And how the induced sleep intended to kill you but you fought through it. Of course, he left out everything else it intels.

“I think I’m gonna pass out. Witch powers, really? Me?” You scoff, dragging your fingers through your hair, “As if I didn't have enough problems just keeping myself in check, now witch powers too? How long do you think before I accidentally set something on fire? “

“Not a chance. I will help you take control.”

“You teaching me control? We’re so screwed.”

Kol can´t help the confused look on his face, as he scrunched his eyebrows together and glances at you with concern.

“Hey, I'm kidding. But you should´ve seen your face. “

Kol sighs and it bleeds over to a smile, before disappearing completely. He had a job to do.

“There’s something else, two matters in fact.” Kol continues “But first..what do you say we make good on our promises? Travel the world, just you and me.”

“Do you even have to ask? Of course, I'm coming with you” You reply “Now tell me everything. “

----

His confidence held up for about 5 minutes before all your emotional stability went out of the window. Once he passed explaining that Klaus is alive and well, he moved to Mae´s indiscretion

Of course, Kol failed in his attempt to keep you calm. By the time he explained his agreement with Klaus and Mae´s..indiscretion, you were out of the door, tracing her down.

Kol said you should let it go, you were lied to, it wasn't your fault- but your trust had been shattered and you have a score to settle.

“What the hell?!” You yell at her, your voice bouncing off the outer walls of the Mikaelson Mansion. You knew she wouldn´t be far.

“Hell's right here.” She says, before she´s met with your balled fist. She tumbles back, and laughs “Whew! The infamous right hook. You still got it. “

“You´ve been working with Klaus all this time? After everything, he did to me, to Kol?"

“We all do what must be done, and I've done nothing more than profit off of your anger.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Profit of my anger?” You huff, not bothering waiting for an answer “How could you? Klaus ruined my life and everyone´s life he ever touched! How could you protect him? I had him, Mae. I ended this for all of us.”

“And what did it get you, huh? Did you feel better? Did driving a stake through his heart relief you of the pain he caused? Revenge means nothing, and it will give you nothing. Your foolish scheme would have been the end of us, and honestly, you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you? Are you fucking serious? You sided with my enemy!”

“I saved your life. And you have powers now. That´s a gift, a freedom I searched for decades. You better start being more grateful.”

“I didn't ask for any of this! I don't want them and I don't need them.”

“Well, you got ‘em. And you gotta to use them or they'll eat you alive. Literally.”

“I know all about it.” You brush her off. Kol told you that the powers demand to be used or they´d claw at your skin until there's no skin left,

“Just tell me how long you've been working with him." You continue "Then I’ll do the part where I tell you to go to hell, before we go our separate ways.”

“Shortly after you jumped ship, and joined Kol in his efforts, Klaus came to me asking for assistance and we made a deal. He would do anything he can to rid me of this curse and I will help him set his werewolf powers free. And protect him if anything goes south.

“I´m sorry, is this the point where I'm supposed to sympathize with you? Because that's not gonna happen. “

“You might if you let me finish. “

“You know, I actually thought your efforts were noble when I first joined your community. I thought, hey finally something with purpose, something to make up for what I've become. And now I find out everything was a lie? Just another power play with me as the main act? And for what, more power than you already have?”

“Now do get off that high horse of yours. You ain't the saint you externalize either.” She snaps back but quickly regains her stellar demeanour "But it ain't about power, it never has been. It's about being myself without having a part locked away. I deserve that freedom, no matter the cost.”

You almost have sympathy with her, but the fact that she has been lying to you pretty much ever since you´ve met melts any and all sympathy you had.

“But you broke my trust to get that freedom. I trusted you and I don't trust anyone.”

You could count on one hand the number of people that you genuinely trust, and she was on that list once upon a time.

“Let’s be frank, we never trusted each other.”

“We both know that's a lie. But if you're gonna stand here and explain it away, so be it. I have somewhere else to be.” You know full well that she's just trying to relieve her guilt, but you won't have any of it. Not anymore “This is goodbye, Mae. If I find anyone coming after me, I'll kill them.”

With that, you turn your back on not only her but all the time you've spent trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. You actually thought you could trust her again.

“I know it'll mean nothing to you now,” She says, but you keep walking “but you will always have a home in New Orleans. No matter what happens or what you think of me, or my actions - you are always welcome.”

“Whatever.”

-------

Back at the house, you didn't think twice before packing your bags. Kol told you about the deal he made with his family; You both leave town, leaving Klaus in peace from now on. That's the price to pay for killing him or well, failing to kill him. But if the past hours have taught you anything, is that if you´re presented a way out of a dire situation like this, you shouldn't hesitate. Maybe leaving town will finally give you the chance to leave all of this behind.

Perhaps everything you´ve done has finally let you here.

“All packed up, huh?” Stefan says from the doorway.

You look up and smile at him before turning back, throwing a t-shirt into your suitcase “Yeah. No idea where we´re going just yet, but I guess we're just gonna pick a place and go.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You sure you don't want to join us? There´s enough space.”

“I would but I, uh, we have some things to figure out here.” He says and you nod, zipping up the suitcase in front of you.

“Come on, let me help you with that.” Stefan offers, and grabs the handle, disappearing out of the room before you can protest.

Downstairs, you´re greeted by Damon´s presence, having just come back from some kind of business in town.

“You're leaving already?” He asks as you descend the stairs.

“Don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, huh?" You look back at Stefan behind you, quirking an eyebrow "The old Damon couldn't wait for me to go. What happened to him?“

“That Damon got his ass kicked and almost his head blown off by his little sister. I got rid of him.”

“About that.. “

“It's fine.” He waves it off.

"Still, I´m sorry." "But hey, we´re finally parting on good terms, who would've thought?”

“Wait for him to screw it up,” Stefan says and cocks his head towards Damon.

Damon grimaces a fake laugh, before reaching out and pulling you into an unexpected hug “You take care, little sis.”

“Oh god, don´t call me that, weirdo.”

“I'll call you whatever I want, weirdo.” He replies "Where´s your scary boyfriend?"

Squeaking tires and loud music diverts your attention and you open the door, just in time to see Kol pulling up on the driveway.

“Right there.”

“You've got to be kidding me. Who is he trying to be, John Cusack in Say Anything? Not with a boombox over his head but with obnoxiously cheesy 80’s music?”

“Chessy?! Pft no taste. “Stefan mutters.

“If he's gonna turn that shit up, “Damon says “I’m gonna punch the radio until my ears stop bleeding.”

“What did you say?!” Kol yells over the music, having just rolled the window down “I'm afraid I can't hear you?! Must be my old age. “

Damon groans “Just go already. I can't take it.”

“Fine, I'm going.” You approach the car, opening the passenger side, throwing your suitcase in the back before hopping into the passenger seat.

You lean out of the open window, looking back to your brother's, as Kol turns the ignition back on “Don't open the door to strangers, stay out of my room and don't call me unless you really have to. Actually, no don't call me at all.” You give them a wink before giving Kol the go, and he floors the car, driving away with squeeking tires.

Stefan and Damon remain behind and wave goodbye from the entrance to the house. Once you're out the driveway and out hearing distance, their smiles fall and worry spreads over them.

“She´s gonna hate us when she finds out.” Stefan says, chewing on the inner corners of his cheek “You know that, right?”

“Yup.” Damon nods “We're officially the worst brothers in history.”

“Yeah..You think she's gonna find out before...you know?”

“It´s Y/N, what do you think?”

“Yup, we´re screwed.”

Damon sighs and claps him on the shoulder “Royally screwed, little bro. Royally screwed..”

----

The road out of Mystic Falls is smooth black river in the dying sun. The sort where you'd follow them wondering if they'd ever cease to wind their way through nature.

You´re propped up on the hood of the car, legs crossed and soaking in the last rays of the sun. You asked Kol to pull over the car to savour this moment of leaving town, instead of just driving past the sign.

It reads "Leaving Mystic Falls" … it's like music to your ears.

It was always the plan to travel the world together, to show Kol what he has been missing, and today, finally after hardship, murder and pain, the day has come. You wanted to leave this place for weeks now, but something, be it the ugly green hue of the sign or Kol´s unusual silent manner made you question your choice even just the tiniest amount..

“Who would've thought we're actually leaving this town behind for good?” You say, slipping your hand in his that's resting on his thigh before bathing in the sunset. “ Riding into the sunset even, how perfect is this? “

“I know,” Kol says, staring at your intertwined hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

You look over and instead of a beaming smile, you see his head hanging low.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Of course.” He says and lifts your hand, chasting a kiss on the delicate skin “Just...thinking about where to go first.”

“I don't care where we go. As long as you´re here, I have everything I need.”

“Let's not waste time then.” He says, and jumps off the car, throwing the keys towards you “Do you want to drive first? You've been eying this car ever since we left.”

“You know you're the only one I’m eyeing here.” You reply, “Okay maybe the car as well.”

Kol laughs and finds himself tracing the cars shiny exterior in an exaggerated attentive manner “She's almost as beautiful as you.”

“Did you just...compare me to a car?”

“Your beauty knows no bounds, darling. Not even mechanical ones. ”

“Okay that's enough, get the in the car, Romeo.”

He laughs and you swear you never heard anything more heart-stoppingly beautiful.

You turn the volume up with a flick of the nob attached to the vintage radio and put the gear in drive, before flooring the pedal, leaving the town sign in the dirt.

Kol looks out of the passenger window, watching the trees fly by in motion and he feels an unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest, he could only describe as contentment.

He’s free. Finally.

And so in love.

And his life had 6 months left to run……..

A/N: Whew..on a scale from 1 to 10 how much do you hate me for the last sentence? :D

This is the last chapter before we have our season finale or book 1 finale or whatever you like to call it. So prepare yourself for the next chapter, where we finally find out what exactly the price was for the reader's survival.

But I am so curious to know what you think! Any theories, criticism or any feedback are incredibly appreciated!!

Open Coffin Tags: @shadylittlewonder @thegoddessofvampire @newurleans @originalbish98 @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @vaniileiinkeks @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14 @5-seconds-of-animals @the-geeky-engineer @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474 @pacifyprincess@mustachio1616 @thealyana @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper @buckysummers @sanity-is-overratedxp @akshi8278 @lunna-star-8 @graysonmalfoy @woodworthti666 @elenavaldez02 @lilulo-12 @selmasemlan @thelostallycat @characterobsessed @cococola-cocaine @crazyinternetgirl @tvdplusriverdale @-thatgirloverthere- @alwxadria345 @trymexo @mizzezm @willieshakesqueer @spunky-89 @putyourherohaironstefan @xxdragonagequeenxx @thegingerthatwaited @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @hinata7346 @controloffandoms

#kol x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson #tvd imagine #the originals imagine #open coffin #the originals #the vampire diaries

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marvelmadam08 · 6 years ago

Text

The Princess & The Nomad (2)

Sequel to The Captain and The Culprit! With your hypnosis gone and your identity fully known, you and Steve reunite and pick you right where your left off. But with The Avengers disbanded and a new danger looming in the future, what’ll keep everything from falling apart?

Summary: You meet your Uncle Loki, who you thought was dead. And you’re given an ultimatum.

Warnings: Violence, mind control, Loki

You raced to Odin’s chambers the moment you reach the palace grounds. You knew Heimdall to be close friends with Thor, and extremely loyal to the throne. Although you felt some resentment towards him at first, for following Odin’s orders and sending you to Earth, as well as keeping you a secret, but he’s paid for it with years of guilt. And has promised Thor to look out for you while he was away on his journey. So for him to be charged with treason didn’t make sense to you.

“The All Father is not to be disturbed.” The guard outside Odin’s door protested, placing his staff in front of you.

“He’ll have to make an exception.” You strike him in the chest, his eyes glazed over and he flies back into the doors.

You march inside looking for Odin, but find a tall man, with long black haired man dressed in black and green robes standing behind Odin’s desk. You were able to identify him easily from the grand statue placed outside the theater.

“Loki?” You gasp

“Worthless guard.” He mutters before snapping his fingers, the guard disappears in a flash of green light. And the door slams shut behind you and locks.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Tales of my death are vastly exaggerated.”

“By your own doing. You had a statue built to commemorate your memory, and that play- talk about textbook narcissism.” You roll your eyes

“You dare speak to the King of Asgard in such a tone?” He lowers his eyes

“You are not a King. Odin is the King of Asgard- what have you done with him? Have you killed him?”

“Oh please, don’t tell me you’ve grown fond of the old goat. He threw out of Asgard the practically moment you were born, kept you a shameful secret for years.” He rounded the desk, reaching you in just a few strides “He’s a selfish man, who manipulated and corrupted everyone to keep his throne under his rule.”

“Like father like son.” A flash of red appeared in Loki’s eyes, the next moment you were on the floor and he was pinning you down, a knee to your chest and a knife to your throat.

“My darling niece, I thought you would show your elders a bit more respect?” He pressed down on your chest, and put his thumb to your forehead “Let’s see how I can get you to behave.”

You strike the side of his head with your powers, Loki’s body goes limp, dropping the knife. You flip over so you were now on top, holding him down. He tensed, having your powers surging through his head, you could feel him struggling against you.

“Why have you charged Heimdall with treason?” You ask

“He knows I am not the All Father, he needs to be silenced.”

“Not by death, I will not have you take his life because you wanted to play King!”

A pair of cold hands pulled you from him, a Loki clone trapped you in his arms while the real one regained his composure.

“And who are you to give me demands? You think the people would want you, a illegitimate princess, ruling their kingdom?” He slowly stood to his feet

“I’m sure they’d favor me over a frost giant.” You narrowed your eyes at him “Maybe we should ask them.”

“Is that a threat? I don’t do well with threats dear niece.”

“If you knew me, you’d know I never make threats.”

Loki smirks at you, stalking towards you like a predator to its prey. His clone tightened his hold on you, not that it would matter, you knew you could break away given the right moment, but if Natasha Romanoff taught you anything it was to make your enemy think they had the upper hand.

“Now what? Are you gonna kill me too?”

“I just might. I could put you in the dungeon right next to Heimdall and have both of you executed at sunrise.” He grabs your face

You feel him searching through your mind, subtly traveling through your memories, you swear you almost see him wince when he comes across the electric shock torture.

“That would give Thor a lovely welcome home. You telling him you’ve killed his father, friend and daughter.” You stare back into his eyes, going through his own memories. You fight the initial urge to scrunch your nose is disgust when you see him the stables eyeing a horse. And catch glimpses of a purple faced being named Thanos.

“Odin isn’t dead quim, he’s on Earth. I put him in a nursing home.”

The name Shady Acres pops up in his mind. And then you see Steve’s face staring back at you, a soft smile on his lips. You mentally cast Loki out of your mind, showing him the looming face of Thanos.

“How did you do that?” He growled, grabbing you by the throat, his clone vanished “Tell me!”

“A door can be entered through both ways. You saw into me, and I looked into you. Who’s Thanos and why do you fear him?”

“For the same reason you fear the name Schmidt.” Loki lowers his voice and eases his fingers from your neck “It seems, dear niece, that we are more alike than either of us care to admit. Drink?”

Loki sauntered over to the rounded shelf, filled with various ale and mead, and grabs two glasses.

“If we were anything alike then you wouldn’t be lying to the people, and you’d bring Odin back.”

“So he can have me locked away? Treat me like a second rate child?” Loki shook his head “He took me from Jotunheim with the idea to create a peace treaty, and the realms are at peace under my rule. Why ruin it?”

“I’m sure that if you were to sit and talk with him he will listen to reason.”

“Odin only has room for one mistake in his perfect life.” He strolls back to you, offering a glass. You eyed it suspiciously, he rolled his eyes and took a sip from it before handing it to you again. This time to take it but refused to take a drink.

“I wonder, who he would accept into his court. The monster he took in or the bastard he cast out?” He leaned against the back of the sofa “But by all means, bring him back and find out. Or stay here, become the new bifrost keeper, and eventually… Queen of Asgard.”

“You trust me to keep quiet about this?” You feel the air in the room change, something creeping behind you ready to strike at the right moment

“I trust that you will do what’s best for Asgard.” Loki smirked “And to ensure, that you never have to be subjected to such horrid experiences like the ones you had on earth.”

A light hissing noise, drew your attention away from Loki. Behind you a serpent stretched up from the floor, towering over you by three feet, it’s yellow eyes glared down at you. The glass slipped from your hand, shattering across the floor.

“This will be over far more quickly than your previous torture sessions.” Loki turned his face away, bringing his drink to his lips “I hope they trained you well.”

You jump out the way just before the serpent had the chance to strike you, its fangs getting caught in the tiles of the floor and thrashed its body around. You see your moment to escape, grabbing the knife from the floor, you run at Loki. He stepped to the side to avoid making contact, but your weren’t going for him.

The snake freed itself, and continued to slither after you. You flipped over the edge of the balcony, throwing the knife between the serpent’s eyes and striking it down. Using your powers to carry you down, you land in the garden in front of Sif.

“You again.” She pursed her lips

“Leave Asgard, and tell The Warriors Three they have to leave too.” You tell her, marching off towards the dungeons, Sif hurried behind you.

“Excuse me Princess, but you don’t have the authority to suggest such requests.”

“Why not, I’m a princess. And it’s not a suggestion, it’s a warning, you have to leave Asgard.”

“What ever for?” Sif steps in front of you, blocking you from going any further

“It’s Loki, he’s alive and he’s posing as Odin.”

“You sound like Heimdall.”

“And when has he ever been wrong? We need to get him before his sentence can be carried out.”

“Disobey the All Father?”

“It’s not Odin, it’s Loki. If you’re not going to help me free Heimdall then leave Asgard.” You step around her “No doubt he’ll go after you next.”

“Wait.” Sif called out to you. “If Odin is Loki in disguise then he’ll be waiting for you the moment you set foot in the dungeons. I’ll retrieve Heimdall.”

“So what should I do?”

“Meet me at the stables, we’ll go to Norheim and warn your family.”

“Right.” You nod ready to turn for the stables when Sif’s words replay in your head “How did you know about Norheim?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I never told you about Norheim. Or my family.”

She rolled her eyes, her piercing green eyes. “I guess I’ll have to do this the hard way. 813, dein Vorgesetzter-”

“No!” You strike Sif in her chest with your powers, you expect her to disappear like the guard but she’s flung to the end of the hallway. Hitting the floor with a thud. “Sif?”

She groaned, and rolled to her side. A strong hand wrapped around your upper arm and pulled you away, running through the corridors. “You must leave with me Princess, it is no longer safe for you here.” Heimdall told you

“I know, Odin is Loki and Sif is possessed. How did you escape?” You look over your shoulder to see if you were being followed

“The guard is a friend of mine, he’s awaiting us on the edge of Asgard with horses to escape.” He hands you a long red, hooded cloak “Put that on.”

“Wait, what about my family?” You ask, wrapping the cloak around yourself. “I can’t just leave them.”

You both come to a stop at the doors entering the throne room. Heimdall turns to you, a regretful look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Princess, but there is no other way.”

“No, I just got them back. I refuse to have them suffer because of me.” Heimdall covers your mouth, and you hear the voices on the other side of the door

“I don’t understand your majesty. The Princess is-” a guard spoke

“She’s in cohorts with the trader Heimdall.” Loki hissed in Odin’s voice “They must be found and locked away in the dungeons immediately.”

“Yes All Father, right away.”

Heimdall pulls you off behind the doors just before they opened, the guard taking off down the halls. He takes off again with you at his side, into the throne room and towards the main entrance. You both duck behind a pillar, avoiding more guards.

“How do I know you’re the real Heimdall? Or that you’re not possessed?” You whispered

“When your father left to continue his search, he said his biggest fear wasn’t dying on his journey. It was returning and finding you suffered the same fate as your mother.” Heimdall spoke softly “He’s made me promise not to tell you that-”

“I won’t tell him, you have my word, but we need to save my family. He knows where they are and-” you shuddered at the realization that Loki, the god of mischief, now knows the words to control you.

What a better way to have the kingdom of Asgard turn against you, have the Princess go on a rampage and spout ‘lies’ about the king. Or worse, making you go after your own family for any reason he wanted.

“Come now.” Heimdall pulls you behind him again, you both sneak across the courtyard

“Heimdall, I have a favor to ask of you. Two if I’m being honest.” You catch a quick glimpse of your reflection in the water of a fountain, a smile flashed on your face when you saw how much your navy jumpsuit and red cape made you look like Thor.

“And they are?” Heimdall continued to pull you alongside of him towards the edge of the courtyard and down to where the trees started to gather and spread to the forest.

“Go to Norheim, warn my family. Take them with you or get them off Asgard. I understand that I can’t see them, but they need to know what’s going on.”

“Agreed, what is the second?”

You glance over your shoulder at the castle, your heart sinking with despair, knowing it would be a while before you could return, if ever.

“I need you to send me to Earth.”

“No, I promised your father-” he shook his head

“That you would make sure I was safe. This won’t be like last time, I’ll be safe there, I’m sure of it.” Your hand subconsciously tug at Steve’s tags around your neck. “And if my assistance is needed, just ask and I will return. We just need to get to the bifrost.”

“No, I can summon the gateway from here. But they will find me, so we’ll have to be quick.”

“Tell my family I love them, and I’m sorry, but I will see them again.” You wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. “And thank you, Heimdall.”

“It is my honor, Princess.” He bowed to you, letting you stand a safe enough distance apart to send you back to the only other place you could call home.

Back to Steve.

Taglist: @classybai @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @floralandspice @bi-bi-bi-bisexualz @theonelittleone @grey-junior @marvelousbuckystark @captainsthor @sebbystanlover-vk @jovialcalzonepaperzine @chook007 @dontchawishyouknewhowtosalsa @geekysimmerthings @codename-buckybarnes @marvelfansworld @emmaschhh @bruisedfaye @mackyk06 @teamcap4bucky @paigeem96 @lily-horvitz @tshollandlove @nerdypisces160 @mrs-captain-evans

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currantlee · 5 years ago

Link

It has been roughly a year since this one has been first published by now :) It was one of my first stories written in English. I think I’d do so many things differently from how I did them in the past, but I am still proud on how this turned out.

Language: English (original) Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of psychological problems Fandoms: Fire Emblem: If - White Night Kingdom / Fire Emblem: Fates - Birthright Shippings: (Past) Aqua / Azura & Takumi Relationships: Sibling Ryoma & Takumi, Family Takumi & Kiragi Characters: Takumi, Ryoma, Hinoka, Kisaragi / Kiragi, Aqua / Azura (mentioned) Other relevant tags: Past Torture, Past Rape/Non-con, Nightmares, Memories, Non-Graphic Violence, Slight Birthright AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Depressions, Paranoia Chapter: 1/1 Platforms: Amino (initial publication), AO3 (reworked version) Summary: Another nightmare. Since the events a few years ago, they only got worse.

Click on “Keep Reading” if you want to read the fanfiction here on Tumblr.

“Well, we can make this easy”, Hinoka shouted at Garon. She had been riding her Pegasus Shizen up to the gallery, positioning himself (in fact) higher than him. A dangerous provocation. “Just stay away from neutral ground, scum!” The king of Nohr chuckled. “Do you want to challenge me, princess of Hoshido?” “Oh, is this a challenge, king of Nohr?” She grinned, pulling out her naginata. “Then I'll gladly accept it...” “Not so fast”, Garon stopped her, turning to Iago. “Bring him in.” Takumi frowned. His wrists were aching from the waiting. But he wasn't going to surrender. He could not surrender. If he did... The troops would loose a lot of moral. His fingers were shaking. He couldn't really explain why. He wasn't exited about the things that were coming at him, nor scared. And therefore, the young prince really was annoyed by his body's behavior. Because he couldn't control it. Couldn't fix it. He felt a spear's wooden end being stabbed at his back. “Move.” He knew he shouldn't... But he did obey. Whatever made him do this... Hinoka's jaw dropped. “Takumi?!” Her naginata dropped, he voice sounding alarmed. Iago laughed. “You should see the look on your face, princess...” “Silence, Iago”, Garon ordered. Then he turned to the young prince, who had his hands bound on his back. “One single word to your sister and I will have your tongue cut out, understood?” He pressed his lips together, wanting to deny them an answer. Only resulting in getting slapped right away. He gasped from the sharp pain. “Our king asked you if you understood him, young prince”, Iago grinned. “So?” “Wow. Really... Wow”, Hinoka hissed sarcastically, even applauding. “That's what I call desperate. Need to take a hostage to keep me from killing their king...” Another smack onto Takumi's face led to her cutting off herself. She bit her lip. “You have got two options, Princess Hinoka”, Garon continued. “The first one is – obviously – continuing war against Nohr. But be aware that even if you win, Prince Takumi here might not survive this.” Hinoka's eyes widened. “Let us just say, every further aggression against Nohr will be taken out on him.” “No”, Hinoka whispered. “Yes”, Garon said. “And the other option is... Well... You get your brother back. Mostly unharmed.” Iago giggled. “Depends on how well HE behaves.” “But”, Garon continued regardless of his retainer's interruption, “Hoshido will surrender.” “Never”, Hinoka hissed. “Ryoma would never...” Takumi's cry of pain interrupted her. The young prince had fallen to his knees, panting heavily. Iago had struck him with a thunder spell. “Well, Princess Hinoka, as far as I am informed, High Prince Ryoma holds his family's well-being in high regard. I would not be so sure about his decision.” “This is blackmailing!”, she hissed. “This is called politics, dear Princess”, Garon replied. “But I am not a monster. You may overthink your decision. Nohr will not raise any further aggression against Hoshido – but be aware that should Hoshido take part in any further aggressions against Nohr, he”, Garon gestured towards the still panting Takumi, “will suffer.” That being said, the Nohrian king stood up. “Let us go”, he declared, turning around. “We are done here.” “BASTAAAAAAARD!!!” Then everything suddenly happened so fast. Garon's axe, Hinoka's scream, the blood... “HINOKA!”, Takumi shouted, trying to free himself, to run towards his sister and...

... he woke up by someone shaking him, immediately grabbing the Fundō, which laid at his Futon's side, as he sat up hastily. “Easy”, Ryoma said in a calm voice. “You just had a nightmare, Takumi.” But that couldn't calm him down immediately. His grip on the Fundō tightened. Ryoma grabbed his hand. “Takumi, it is okay...” “It'll never be okay!”, he snapped back. Ryoma sighed. “Takumi, you can let go of your Fundō. No one is here aside from me and Kisaragi and he is still asleep. Everything is alright...” As he said this, he could feel Takumi's grip on the Fundō loosening. Sometimes Ryoma really wished he could forbid Takumi to keep a weapon at the side of his bed, especially since he once almost strangled Hinoka's arm with it, luckily just getting a hold of her sleeve. But the young prince couldn't sleep without this. It was like an assurance to him. And even so, he had his nightmares. As Ryoma pulled him into a hug, he felt him trembling, while being totally stressed, obviously. The king sighed. “Takumi, you need to see a doctor with that kind of trauma. It is getting worse...” “No”, the younger one whispered. “They'll only lock me away into the asylum...” True. So true. They had way too much to do with all the soldiers who had suffered a trauma in the war. Ryoma could understand why Takumi denied going – but he seriously wished his brother would. His trauma wasn't the only thing the young prince had to deal with. His depression was also an issue. “Takumi”, Ryoma hummed, “would you please put down your weapon now?” The Fundō fell to the ground almost immediately. He sighed. “Thank you, little brother...” “Dad?” Ryoma turned around. Takumi's three-year-old son, Kisaragi (Kiragi for short), was standing in at the Fusuma, barefoot and obviously worried about his father. “K-Kiragi...” Takumi's voice was rough. As if he was sick. “Daddy?” “He is alright, Kisaragi”, Ryoma explained his nephew. “Nightmares”, Takumi murmured. “Nothing for you to worry about...” Kiragi plodded to his father's Futon slowly, throwing his arms around him. “Kiragi's here for Dad...” Ryoma watched Takumi's hands entangling themselves into Kiragi's hair, while he started to hum a melody he probably picked up from Azura for the young child. He truly loved his son. “I'm such a bad father”, Takumi whispered, as soon as Kiragi had fallen asleep again. “I was never there for Shigure while he was in the sacred realm... I'm not even able to not drag Kiragi into all of this.” He caressed his son's head carefully. “He deserves so much better...” “I think he does not want to have another father”, Ryoma answered. “He loves you, Takumi...” In that moment, he noticed his younger brother was crying. “Takumi?” “I'm such a pityful pile of shit”, the former archer mumbled. “I'm depressive, I'm traumatized...” “Takumi, everyone would be traumatized by what you experienced!”, Ryoma snapped quietly. “Not in this way”, the younger one replied. “Besides, no one would have done what Iago demanded! No one but... Me...” “Takumi, we talked about this”, Ryoma sighed. “The things that were done to you...” “... Are no excuse.” The younger one's voice was shaking. “Why didn't you punish me?”, he whispered quietly. “For that I did...” “Because I don't see a need. You have been suffering enough to this point”, Ryoma clarified. Again. It was not the first time that Takumi asked him this question and it was also not the first time Ryoma clarified his position. He knew very well that his younger brother deemed himself unworthy of being a Hoshidian prince, that he felt he should be punished. The parliament wasn't fully innocent about this since a not insignificant part of it had voted for his execution after the war was over – something Ryoma had luckily been able to prevent due to his status as king. Still, he had been put under arrest. And as if depressions and the trauma were not enough, the constant surveillance had also led to a certain amount of paranoia. “Hinoka lost her arm due to me!”, Takumi sobbed. “I thought you love her...” “Hinoka lost her arm because she was in a bad spot and overwhelmed by her fury”, Ryoma clarified. “Even she herself does not blame you.” He sighed. “Besides I do love her. Deeply. Just as I do love you, Takumi. You two were the reason why I considered surrendering...”

Hinoka was in surprisingly good mood for the bad mood she was usually in those days. Ryoma admitted that he had his difficulties keeping up with her. Then again, hand-to-hand-combat had never been his greatest strength. As she brought him down for what seemed to be the hundredth time, he smiled. “You certainly haven't lost your form.” “Yupp.” She cracked her knuckles. “I guess I'm ready to stand onto the battlefield again.” She moved her right, now lightly translucent hand in front of her face. “Sakura's magic certainly makes for a good punch. A shame it doesn't last for longer than a few hours...” “She surely did good work on that spell”, Ryoma smiled. “Who knows? Maybe she will be able to replace your arm permanently with it some day...” “Yeah. But even without, those Nohrians won't stand a chance!” Her left hand curled into a fist. “I'm ready for anything!” “About that, Hinoka...” Ryoma sighed loudly, sitting down on the meadow they had been training on. “I think we should give up.” “What?” Hinoka's fist relaxed and she looked confused. “Why?” “Is it not obvious?”, Ryoma asked. A rhetorical question. “They have Takumi as a hostage. And they will harm him, should we even attempt to fight them in any way.” He sighed, his gaze meeting the grass on the ground. “I do not want him to return to us ripped into pieces”, he whispered. “Or significantly... Changed.” Hinoka stayed silent. “If we attack them, they will harm him”, Ryoma repeated. “Perhaps kill him...” He shook his head. “I can not do this”, he sighed. “Besides... You already lost an arm.” “You're such an idiot, Ryoma”, the redhead scolded him. He looked up. “Do you really think they'll keep their word? You know how cruel Nohrians are. They'll torture him one way or another for their own enjoyment!” “But if we provoke them on top of...”, Ryoma started, but his sister cut him off again. “Besides, you know what a brat Takumi can be. He surely won't make their lifes easy”, she continued. “And judging by the way they treated him at Cyrkensia, I bet that they make hell out of his.” “Takumi is smart”, Ryoma disagreed. “He wouldn't...” “He would and you know it.” Hinoka sat down at his side, not in Seiza like him, she never cared about formalities and such as much has he did – had to do as High Prince. “The longer we wait the greater the risk they do something terrible to him. The longer we wait, the more pain he has to face.” She had stared at the sky before. Perhaps she was searching for Shizen. The Pegasus had fled after Garon had cut off her arm, scared. It hadn't returned to her yet. “And there is another thing.” “And that is?” Ryoma raised his eyebrows. “He would want us to fight for him. To save him”, Hinoka replied. “To not give up.” Ryoma stayed silent. “When I saw him as their hostage, he looked... Scared. But at the same time, there was still that pride in his eyes. That wild, untamed determination of a Hoshidian prince. Of our brother...” “Now you exeggerate”, Ryoma chuckled. “I'm serious”, Hinoka declared. “He would want us to continue fighting.” She paused for a short time. “And about my arm... It's okay, really.” She grinned. “Now I have two reasons to continue fighting. For Takumi - and for myself. Do you really think I'd let those idiots get a hold of me by cutting off my arm?” Ryoma chuckled. “Not really.” Hinoka laughed. “See? You're an idiot, Ryo.” “Perhaps you are right...”

“She was.” Takumi stared into the air. “I wanted you to fight... To not give up. In the beginning.” He pulled Kiragi closer to him. Protectively, as if all the memories caused a sudden urge to never let him go. Ryoma could understand that; Takumi had lost so much. The older brother admired how he still kept going, despite all depressions, paranoia and traumatic experiences. How he still kept fighting. “Ryoma?” “Hm?” “Will you stay?” He sounded like a child. Ryoma smiled. “As long as you want me to.” Finally. Finally he asked. Opened up... That was something to begin with. “Can we... Talk?” “To keep you from sleeping?” Takumi sighed at this question. “You got me there...” “Do you sometimes dream about what happened?”, Ryoma wanted to know. His younger brother nodded. “It seems I'm... That I tend to have nightmares.” He sighed again. “You know, before the war, it were things I could not... Well, not assign to anything.” Ryoma nodded. “Sometimes I dreamed about how father died – but I wasn't there when it happened. Sometimes I dreamed about losing mother too. And sometimes it was just... Things that scared me.” “Like losing us?”, Ryoma asked. Takumi nodded. "And more." He looked up at the ceiling. “Sometimes you told me that I wasn't good enough... Useless...” Terror grew in his eyes as he continued speaking. “And sometimes, I dreamed of being controlled by something... A voice in the back of my head. And then, I grabbed Fujin Yumi and shot you in your heads. One by one.” Ryoma could feel his fear. It was in his trembling voice. Takumi looked at him again now. “But now, it's different. Now the dreams are memories.” “About the war? And Nohr?” Takumi nodded. “Sometimes also about... Her.” Of course Ryoma knew whom he was talking about. He was alluding to Azura, whose name he couldn't speak out loud since she died and hearing it usually caused him to have a mental breakdown. “You told her, didn't you?” “Yeah. I did.” His gaze was again fixed on some point in the distance, a point Ryoma couldn't see. Perhaps the past. “She... Understood. She had been through similar things in her childhood, you know. Not the... Bloody stuff, but...” “You don't have to name it, Takumi, I know what you mean”, Ryoma interrupted him as he realized how difficult it was for his younger brother to speak about those things. “That's how we became close. She cared about me and I needed the support. I developed a sympathy for her... Perhaps it was just my sick mind, but I soon realized it was more.” He sighed. “I just don't know why...” “You do not have to ask about that”, Ryoma smiled. “Love is like an untamed bird, which always flies where it wants.” He rubbed his brother's head. “May I ask if you want to tell me more?” “There is so much I didn't tell you about her... And me.” Takumi smiled lightly. “After you told me to stay at Notre Sagesse for some time, to mediate and learn from the Rainbow Sage, and she decided to stay with me, she'd take care of me.” Now he was definitely looking at the past. Melancholy was in his gaze and also his voice, when he continued to speak. “She watched over me at night.” “Just as I do now?” “Yeah, quite similar.” Kiragi chortled quietly, snuggling closer to his father. “I needed that”, he continued. “Someone to watch me.” He caressed Kiragi's head again. “I was so broken I couldn't even help myself anymore. I simply forgot things like to wash myself, so she reminded me on them. She even needed to convince me to eat sometimes...” “I had no idea it was that bad”, Ryoma admitted quietly. “I am sorry. I am sorry I was not there for you, Takumi.” “It's okay, Ryoma.” The younger brother sighed. “To be honest, I wished you were, but you already did so much. You were the one freeing me from my perspective, you know.” “You remember that?”, Ryoma asked him, slightly surprised. Takumi nodded. “You were barely conscious”, Ryoma remembered. “Nearly dead to be exact...”

“That's the last one”, Hinoka murmured. Ryoma and her had been looking for prisoners in the dungeons of Maracath, after the city fell into Hoshidian hands after weeks of sieging and a battle that lasted for days. They hadn't found any Hoshidians so far, which only increased Ryoma's suspicions that Nohr wouldn't make any further prisoners. Aside from Takumi. They had freed a few Nohrians however. Apparently all people who wanted to surrender during the sieging and actually waiting for their execution. Nohr was harsh on what they considered crime. Ryoma had ordered his people to give them food and medicine. It hurt him to see the ordinary people suffer from the war that much. “I wonder where they took Takumi”, Hinoka mumbled. “And how he is...” She swallowed. “I hope the siege didn't cause him too much trouble.” “He will be fine”, Ryoma told her. “Takumi is strong.” “May I remind you that you were the one who wanted to give up because Nohr holds him hostage?”, Hinoka asked. If it wasn't such a serious situation, she might have grinned, but now she was totally serious. Looked even worried. “You may”, Ryoma answered, while opening the door. “You are right after...” He interrupted himself, shocked by the view in front of him. “Hinoka”, he whispered, “do not look at...” “Whatever it is”, she declared, while shoving him aside, “I've seen wo-...” She clapped her single hand over her mouth. “T-T...” “I told you”, Ryoma sighed, walking into the cell, towards the body of his younger body, that laid lifelessly on the bottom, on the stomach. He knelt down besides him, touching his shoulder lightly. Meanwhile, Hinoka walked towards the wall, which was painted in a crusty, dark brown color. She swallowed, her fingers touching one letter of the message that was written onto the stones.

THIS HAPPENS IF YOU CHALLENGE NOHR, HOSHIDIAN FILTH.

“Ryo?”, she whispered. “Do you think this is... Takumi's blood?” Ryoma gently stroked his brother's cheek. “It smells like blood in here, so you might be correct.” He turned the lifeless body around. The skin was already cold. Takumi must have laid there for a very long time. And then, Ryoma noticed something. “Hinoka.” “Hm?” She turned around. “He is breathing.” “What?!” The redhead immediately rushed to his side. She frowned at the sight of the pale, emaciated body and the wounds on it, some of them obviously infected, but nevertheless touched her younger brother's chest. “Yes”, she whispered. “There is a heartbeat.” “Gods”, Ryoma murmured. A terrible suspicion began to form into his head. They didn't forget Takumi in the dungeon. They left him at this place to die. They wanted them to find him. It had all been planned. Suddenly, one of Takumi's eyes opened, the other one was bruised and swollen. Hinoka was the first one to react. She took his hand, squeezing it lightly. Takumi let out a quiet noise. “Shhh, it's okay”, she whispered. “We're here now, Takumi...” “We need a blanket for him”, Ryoma said quietly to not scare his younger brother. “Do you still have any?” “Yeah, luckily...” She stood up, running out of the cell, apparently to fetch one. Ryoma stayed behind. He lifted Takumi up into his arms. The young prince protested quietly, presumably because it hurt him to be lifted up like that. Besides, Ryoma still wore his armor, it was probably not that comfortable. “It is alright”, he told the younger one. “You are safe now. They will not hurt you again...”

“You know... They actually forced me to write that message onto the wall myself.” Takumi swallowed. “Took them a lot of... 'Convincing' though.” There was that pride Hinoka had spoken of. That wild, untamed determination. So they hadn't managed to break all of him. Still, at the same time, Ryoma could see the traces Takumi's captivity had left on him. The strains of pure white in his now short hair, that had never vanished completely. The scar that ran across his left eye, and the eye itself with it's now milky iris. While still intact, the vision on it was blurry and Takumi preferred to wear an eyepatch to cover it up at daytime. He was skinny – Takumi didn't eat much, sometimes Ryoma had to force him to take some more. The trembling hands. That sad smile... The older brother felt a sting in his heart, a reminder of his failure to protect Takumi from this fate, this pain he was still going through and which, like his scars, would probably never fully vanish. A hand grabbed Ryoma's own carefully, almost shyly. A cool, trembling hand. Takumi was trying to make their gazes meet, something Ryoma had not been able to bear for a long time. Because in all the chaos of feelings that he could see in Takumi's eyes, one particular was missing: hatred on his older brother for failing him. It was a while before one of them – Takumi – dared to speak up again. “And yes, it was my own blood. But collected over time, not all at once.” Silence. Takumi never talked about the time he had spent in the Nohrian dungeons. All Ryoma knew was that he had been hurt, physically and mentally. Abused and mistreated. Even raped. It was a little wonder that he had been able to form a relationship with Azura. Ryoma nodded in acknowledgment. “That question actually bothered me for a long time”, he admitted. “There is no way you could have survived loosing the amount of blood that was used to paint the wall.” Takumi smiled weakly. “They regularly bled me.” They stayed silent again, for a while, each one lost in their own thoughts. Takumi had one back to ruffling through sleeping Kiragi's hair and Ryoma had started to do the same for Takumi, unconciously, wanting to show him that he was there. That he would stay there. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all of this”, he finally stated. Takumi shook his head. “No.” “Hm?” “Thank you for listening”, Takumi whispered. “I think I can sleep a lot better now.” “I am glad”, Ryoma said, caressing his brother's head again. “You know you can always come if you have a nightmare or paranoia, right?” “Yeah. Thanks Ryoma.” The younger brother smiled. “You can also go to Hinoka”, Ryoma continued. “I am sure she would be happy to listen to you. Trust me, she does not blame you for her lost arm.” Takumi nodded. “I'll remember it.” “Alright.” Ryoma stood up. “Good night then. Sleep well.” “Good night.”

#My Content #Writing #My Writing #My Fanfiction #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Fanfiction #Oneshot #Fire Emblem: Fates #Fire Emblem: Fates - Birthright #Birthright #FEF #FEF Birthright #Birthright AU #Takumi #Ryoma #Kiragi

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xxxtrouvaillexxx · 6 years ago

Text

Even This Won’t Stop Me

A/N: I’m coming back after a long hiatus strong with another entry to another challenge. This one was being held by @buckysforeverprincess 500 writing challenge, though this entry is very... VERY late. I am so sorry. I entered this challenge when I was still active, haha... ha.. ha. Also! Any words here that are not in English that are wrong, I used Google Translate and I believe we all know how trustworthy that can be. I tried. Also x2! This is really bad, and I am so sorry, it has been ages since I’ve written.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You’ve been targeted by Hydra in order for them to get to Bucky. You are unaware, however, that Hydra agents have already infiltrated the Avenger’s Tower until it was too late.

Word Count: +5k

Warning(s): Pre-established relationship, angst, violence, minor character deaths, mentions of torture, self-doubting Bucky, fluff toward the end. It builds up really quickly, not gonna lie. Bad writing.

Prompt(s):

“Every single time you leave, I cry!” @/nearly-witches w/ Bucky

“Are you safe?” “I-I don’t know.”

“This is going to hurt. I’m so sorry.”

“Gah! Why are you so cold? Get off of me you icicle!”

“Even after all of this, after everything that’ll come our way, nothing is going to stop me from being with you.”

It was a rather slow morning for Y/N. Most of the team had been sent off on separate missions. Steve, Tony, and Nat were sent out to help Fury make the teams next tactic plan for an upcoming mission and give him the last mission report. Sam, Thor, and Wanda all went out to collect files from our last ‘outing’, all the while Clint went home to be with his family again. Basically, the only people who were left in the tower still were yourself, Bruce, and Bucky. This left you to a quiet morning in the kitchen, sipping away at a cup of coffee and reading the Sunday paper with soft jazz playing through the speakers. Humming lightly as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a head rested on your shoulder, gently placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Mornin’ doll,” Bucky whispered before leaving your side to make himself a cup of coffee. “You’re up rather early today, have plans?” He asked, his voice still raspy from sleep. “Not really, just figured I’d get a good start to the day.” You turned in the bar stool and watched him, admiring his form while he walked around the room. “I thought about waking you, but I figured you could use the extra rest. Besides, how could I wake you when you were so peaceful?” You chuckled and closed the paper. “Sure, or you just wanted to brag that you woke up before I did. Just remember doll, that it only happens on a rare occasion. I’ll rub it in your face tomorrow when you sleep into the afternoon.” He teased. Playfully sticking your tongue out at him, you chuckled and nodded. “But you could at least be nice about it. I was kind enough not to bring up the topic of conversation.” “Anything for you, doll. Now, you go and get dressed. But don’t take to long, every single time you leave, I cry! So make it snappy. We’ve basically the entire place to ourselves, might as well enjoy it.” “Day in? Sounds good to me, I’ll be right back James.” You laughed and wandered to your room. Changing from sleepwear into casual day clothes, a simple tank top, and cardigan with some torn blue jeans. You had just been about the leave your room as a voice came through the intercom. It was unfamiliar and cold, foreign, your heart rate picking up incredibly once you recognized it the thick accent. The frigid and unfeeling Russian voice cracked, “At last, we’ve come for you, Soldat. Finally, we are here to bring you home. Just be patient, and we shall come to you. Or perhaps, you should come to meet us? I’m sure Y/N would love for you to be present during her execution.” It said static snapped lowly before all com went dead and the power was in the tower was cut. You were swarmed by the dark as you took a moment to collect your thoughts. Breathing deeply, you ran to your bedside table and grabbed out the handgun you always kept there, making sure it was fully loaded before quietly leaving your room. Creeping through the long halls slowly, carefully taking each step and listening closely to your surroundings, you made your way to the kitchen where you had last seen Buck.

Just before you had turned the corner to the common room, you heard the loading of a gun behind you. Shifting your weight ever so slightly, you cocked your head to the side to see the barrel of it pointing directly at you. “I’d have to advice you from making any further movement, a flick of a finger and you’ll never walk again,” a man said, pushing you forward harshly. “Walk, we have a lot of work to do before Barnes finds us.” Nodding, showing that you understood his warning you walked into a small clearing between the couches and dining room before making your move. You had rotated in his grip, bringing your elbow into his temple harshly and kicking his knee back. Taking your gun, you fired a quick round into his side, using the handle of the gun to hit the back of his head effectively knocking the man unconscious. Before you were even able to think twice, however, several men ran into the room and disarmed you, but not before you were able to take out another three of them. They all had their weapons now pointed at your head and chest, closing in on you until you were eye to eye with the rifle he held. “Walk,” he said menacingly, but you simply stood your ground, smirking you spat in his face. His fist was as quick as your comeback when it met your stomach and face, sending you to your knees for a minute to catch your breath. “I said walk.” Complying with his order, you stood and were directed into the main garage level. Being that it was a weekend, there were few cars lining the parking spaces, a rather stupid move on their part. There was absolutely nowhere to hide once Bucky got here, they don’t stand a chance otherwise. You couldn’t help but think, ‘These poor bastards,’ at least until the shoved you into a chair and tied your hands and feet. “Well, I don’t know about you boys’,” Y/N spoke through the tense silence, tilting her head back to rest on the chair casually, “but I gotta admit, I had thought this would have been a bit more entertaining. You know, some questioning or something.” You drawled in a bored tone. Her eyes meticulously observing each of their movements, years of training kicking in. “I mean, come on. You’ve already made it obvious why you are here, but that is a pointless venture. And I know that I heard something about my execution, which doesn’t exactly sound pleasing, I have to admit.” You babbled on for a while longer, watching as their patience dwindled bit by bit, seeing as each would glance at another with an annoyed look until finally, one snapped and made his way toward you. “Do you ever shut up?” He nearly shouted in exasperation. You smiled and shook your head, “No, not often. But it’s just part of my charm I suppose.” You joked. “I’ve been told that I am ‘Easy to talk to,’ and ‘Quite good company’ so I just assume that I’m a catch. Are you getting irritated? You look a bit irritated,” and with that, he lost it. His fist collided with the side of my cheek an instant later as he spat at you, “You want interesting? Fine, let's get interesting.” Chuckling, you tossed your hair back and glared at him defiantly, “It's your funeral pal.” That was the last snarky comment you were able to get out before two more men came to join him, crackling their knuckles along the way.

Bucky sneaked through the halls silently. It didn’t take him but a second to realize what was happening when the power was cut. Panic had already flooded his system before the cold voice rang through the intercoms, but once he heard it he could hardly breathe.

Only a minute. It was only a few minutes that he was away from her and he could stop thinking how had he allowed this to happen? He had barely made it to Y/N’s room before the voice spoke his final words. “I’m sure Y/N would love for you to be present during her execution.” It repeated over and over in his mind like a mantra as he burst to open her door and quickly scanned the room for any sign of her. It only took him one once over to realize she was no longer there, though he also didn’t fail to see that her nightstand drawer was wide open and missing the firearm that usually was placed inside. He couldn’t help but send a little prayer of thank you to the sky as he turned and continued to creep through the hallways, making a quick stop to the buildings armoury along the way to grab himself a few of his own guns and blades. He knew that he had a few moments to be able to grab the essentials knowing that Y/N, too, was a trained assassin much like himself and Natasha and knowing that they wouldn’t dare actually carry through with their threat of killing her until he was present. However, there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t do as much damage as possible until then. Slowly, he made his way out and continued his search, thinking about all the places that they could have possibly been hiding. There were more than several secured places within the tower, on their floor alone there were six rooms that you needed to have yourself in the database to be able to enter, and he doubted that they were hiding far from where he was. The sound of a gun firing rang through the entire building and he could feel his heart still. His head whipped in the direction of the cracking and raced in its direction, imagining the worst as he ran through corridor after corridor, chanting in his head over and over for you to be alright. You spat out blood as you were beaten over and over. You were positive that your face was covered in bruises and cuts, your nose was worse for wear now that is was surely broken and bleeding, you lips cut from the unrelenting punches and dragging your teeth across them so harshly to keep back any shout or whimpers. You weren’t about to let the fact you were in pain defeat your stubborn defiance. Rocking your head side to side, trying to clear your now foggy mind, you looked up to your captives from under your lashes and offered them a crooked smirk. “I thought you said you were gonna make this interesting?” Leaning your head back to rest on your shoulder, you barely held back the wince of pain shooting through your rib cage as you tried to decide if it was bruising or cracked. “Gotta say, I’m not really all too impressed.” The men surrounding you chuckled as one grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked your head back, hard. “Still got such a foul mouth on you, принцесса? Maybe you should start thinking before you speak, don’t you think? It’ll only get worse from here you know. And it still looks like your knight in shining armour isn’t anywhere to be seen,” his voice whispered in your ear. “Well, where would be the fun in that?” You asked sweetly, your voice dripping with false innocence. You met the man's eyes and you could see the very moment of recognition that sparked in them just before you slammed your head back and jammed his jaw in. The entire room could hear the impact and the sound of his teeth gritting on each other and you knew you did some damage when his shout of pain rung out followed by a growl. “сука!” He shouted and again you were met with several of their fists. You took each blow quietly, never showing emotion, though you struggled to breathe each time they came into contact with your stomach. At some point during their assaults, your chair tipped over and fell on its side causing you to hit your head on the hard concrete. Already dealing with the constant beatings to the head, the impact made you lose consciousness for a few moments. It seemed like it was a never-ending stream of men around the tower. Every corner Bucky turned there was another one of them. The more he had to fight the longer it was taking him to get to Y/N and he was frantically trying to get his mind under control and stop thinking about his worry about what they could possibly be doing so that he could reach her faster. The more time he wasted fighting, the more time they had to do as they pleased. He did notice after a few groups of men that the father he went along, the more meant would be grouped together. He figured that meant he was getting closer to Y/N and the bastards that were holding them and it didn’t take him long to figure out where that was. Garage, a numerous amount of entrances, but he knew these people well enough to know that they would all be covered by men. Group after group, he defeated all the men that stood in his way from where he needed to be most. He was a man on a mission and there was nothing that was going to stop him from reaching Y/N. Even still, it took him nearly thirty minutes to reach the parking lot doors. No matter how much his mind was screaming at him to run in there and grab Y/N, he knew he couldn’t just go in without knowing what he was going to do or have some sort of plan.

“Stop!” “Вы дурак, что вы думаете, что делаете? Я сказал вам, что вы не должны возлагать на нее руку, пока он не прибыл!” “Именно она начала все это. Мы делали то, что вы проинструктировали, и она просила об этом.“ Your head was aching and the constant yelling was not helping the situation. It took you a moment to remember what was happening and were careful not to stir and bring attention to yourself while the men argued. They were speaking in a foreign language and you couldn’t quite decipher what it was they were talking about. “Хорошо, если она попросила об этом, тогда все в порядке, не так ли?” You may not have been able to understand what they were saying but even you knew that he was speaking sarcastically. Peaking at the men through squinted eyes you took in the room. There were more men now if she had to guess she’d say a good fifteen or so. One of the men who had been pounding on you earlier had one of the new arrivals up in his face yelling. And he apparently did not catch onto the sarcasm. “действительно?”

“НЕТ! Вам дали очень конкретные инструкции, и вы нарушили каждый из них! Если вы думаете, что так легко справляетесь с этим, вы совершенно неправы. Теперь, прежде чем я сам убью тебя, встань на место. Солдат будет здесь в любую минуту.” They all began to move around the area, spreading themselves out and you knew what was happening. If not anything else, you knew what солдат meant. Bucky was coming was surely going to be beyond pissed. The man who, you were guessing, was leading this mission of theirs, came to stand behind you. Pulling your chair up to stand on its legs properly, he gave you a swift smack on the cheek to startle you awake. “Best wake up, принцесса. We want you to pay attention to this next bit,” he murmured, a sickening vial grin on his lips and a small handgun pointing at your head. Opening your eyes completely to the sounds of yelling and guns firing. ‘James,’ you thought and let a small smile sit on your lips. There was so much happening that it was a bit difficult for you to pay attention to with your mind being so clouded. Your eyes shifted from person to person to find him among the mass of bodies and he clearly stood out from the rest. He didn’t have the look of fear on his face like some of Hydras men did as they faced him. He looked livid and out for blood. One after another, bodies dropped to the floor either dead or dying. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to you and they knew it. He finished them off soon enough, and now it was just the original four men and the one who helps you at gunpoint. He stared at you with wide eyes as he took in your appearance and all the damage done. Meeting your eyes finally, he took the small smile on your lips as a good sign and turned to glare back to the Hydra agents. “You made a mistake this time,” he growled lowly and stalked forward. Laughing, the man behind you cocked his head to the side, “стой. I’ll only say it once.” Bucky made no move to stop as he continued to trek forward. Before your mind could so much as comprehend the clicking sound, the loud crack the sounded by your ear, and the sudden red-hot pain shooting through your shoulder, Y/N screamed hoarsely and loud. “Y/N!” Bucky exclaimed, panic rising in his voice and terror was clear in his eyes. You felt hot tears run down your face and you hung your head down, desperately trying to catch your breath again. ‘Dammit, that hurts,” you thought. Gritting your teeth together, you took a deep breath and looked up again. “Are you safe?” Buckys voice was barely audible and shaking as he asked. “I-I don’t know.” And that was true. You couldn’t quite tell where the bullet went in, if you could even move your arm, or if it was a clean shot all the way through your shoulder. All you knew what that you were in pain. “I told you, солдат. I won’t repeat myself and next time I won’t be so kind as to where I put a bullet.” Bucky stopped moving forward after that, keeping his gaze locked onto you as he listened to the man's words, moreover, his orders. “Put all your weapons down, солдат.” You silently pleaded with Bucky not to, to fight and not think twice about it because you had no doubt he would win, but you could see it was a losing battle from the look in his eyes. The hidden terror that he tried to hide behind built walls and a fake calm facade. He didn’t take his eyes from yours as he placed his guns to the floor, carefully keeping watch over your wound knowing that the loss of blood was going to take its toll in no time, and the small crinkle in his eyebrows showed you plenty about how nervous he was about anything else happening to you. “Good,” the man behind you spoke. “That wasn’t too hard, now was it? But, that doesn’t change the fact that I still summoned you here for one purpose.” The venom in the man's voice was tangible as it dripped from his mouth, making Y/N shiver. You watched Bucky through hooded eyes, suddenly finding them harder and harder to hold open as their voices drifted into the distance. You were aware that words were being spoken, aware that Bucky’s eyes were in thin slits and raging hatred flamed in the blue of his pupils as he snarled something Y/N could only imagine wasn’t very pleasant, but nothing reached her ears and she was just so tired. “James-” she choked out but her throat seemed to close up before she could get the chance to finish, but in an instant, he was looking at her again. He nodded, understanding what needed to happened even though he was terrified of what may come of it. “It’s alright, Doll. I’ll get you out of here, just stay awake for me. You gotta stay awake, alright?” His voice was dull and it was as though she was listening to him from under water but she nodded nevertheless. ‘Alright, but just for a minute. Just let me sleep for a minute,’ she thought and let her eyes drift close.

Bucky watched carefully as her eyes shut and her head bobbed as sleep took over her, and he had never felt such fear. His heart raced frantically as he tried to see or even hear her shallow breaths. He was running out of time and standing here wasn’t helping him got to Y/N but he knew he couldn’t act without thought. One wrong move and a bullet would be in her head without so much as a second thought from Rumlow. He growled and forced himself to tear his gaze from Y/N again to the gun in the hands of the bastard behind her. There were only two other men in the room who weren’t knocked out or dead beside himself and Rumlow, and he knew that he could defeat them all easily on his own, and so did they obviously otherwise Y/N wouldn’t be tied to a chair right now. “Солдат, мы оба знаем, почему мы здесь, не так ли? Мы здесь, чтобы стать свидетелями казни ужасного человека, убийцы, мрази общества. Начнем?” Rumlow laughed and cocked the gun. Bucky was sure his face was nothing short of murderous as he watched, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He was going to end this today, all the years of pain, it was going to end here. Taking deep, steadying breaths, Bucky placed his hands on his thighs slowly as to not to bring attention to his actions as Rumlow gave orders to the other two agents behind him. He let out a single breath as his hands met the cold metal of the blades he hidden away and let his head clear of any other thought. Raising his had quickly and launching one of the blades forward, he turned as Rumlow yelled out and dropped the gun knowing his blade hit his hand perfectly at the sound to fight off the agents. Quickly making work of the first before fending off the second with a quick blow from his metal arm. “Сейчас, солдат. Не будь таким опрометчивым,“ Rumlow huffed. “У нас все еще есть твоя милая кукла, которая только что постучала в дверь смерти. Ты действительно думаешь, что сможешь убить меня и вовремя спасти ее? Лучше всего уйти, пока ты еще впереди.“ “I’ll have plenty of time yet, don’t worry,” Bucky growled as he leaned down to pick up the gun Rumlow had dropped. “You should have figured this was gonna be the end for you when you threatened her,” he said void of any emotion as he raised the gun and let off a single round into Rumlows skull.

“Do-” She could hear a faint voice, an annoying buzz as is rang in her ears. ‘Just a little longer,’ Y/N thought and tried to rest a bit more. “Doll!” It said again and this time she recognized the voice as a panicked Bucky. And suddenly she didn’t want to sleep anymore. Rather, she wanted to know why he sounded so worried, what happened? “Y/n, you gotta open the eyes. You gotta wake up for me, alright. You gotta wake up, please wake up.” ‘I’m trying,’ she thought but her eyelids refused to listen to her commands and open. They were too heavy and her mind was still a blurry fuzz. ‘I’m awake, Bucky, I’m awake,’ she wanted to tell him but just like how her eyes wouldn’t open the words didn’t leave her lips. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry doll. I’m getting you out of here, I promise.” His voice was horse and she could imagine the face that was paired along with it. A pained expression, the one he wore when he thinks about what he did when he was used by Hydra, what he was forced to do for them and all Y/N wanted was to tell him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. None of it was ever his fault. “This is going to hurt. I’m so sorry.” She hadn’t quite realized what he was talking about until she felt his arms wrap around her cold body, she hadn’t noticed how absolutely frigid she was until she felt to warmth radiating off of him, and began lifting her body into the air. Sudden streaks of white hot pain shot through her and a blood-curdling scream left her mouth before she could stop it and her mind went silent again.

Y/N woke slowly to an annoyingly loud beeping sound that assaulted her ears and a bright light that shown from seemingly everywhere around her. Groaning softly Y/N went to throw her arm over her eyes to shield them only to let out a soft cry of pain as heat prickled her shoulder. “Y/N, doll, are you awake?” Bucky’s tired and worried voice sounded off beside her and she could feel his presence beside her bed immediately. She wanted to say some witty and snarky comeback but her mouth seemed as dry as sand and she was left a coughing mess before words were even able to form. “Hold on darling, I’ll get you somethin’.” He said and quickly rushed off for him to return but a moment later, and she was sure that he ran to the sink and back so he wasn’t away from her for too long. He reached behind Y/N to help her sit up, his metal hand resting on the back of her neck and she shot up so fast that she felt like she had whiplash. Trying to shove his hands away from her, she shivered and laughed, “Gah! Why are you so cold? Get off of me you icicle!” Bucky laughed and refused to back away, but took his hand from her neck and placed it on her knee instead, whether it was meant to comfort her or him neither of them knew, but she allowed it because there was at least a blanket to protect her from the sudden chill, thought the grin never left her face. After taking the glass from him and drinking the first half on her own, she smiled and peaked open her eyes just a little bit against the white light, “Thanks James,” she whispered. Something inside of him must have snapped at the sound of his name coming from her because the ragged breath he drew in was enough for Y/N to turn to him completely to see what was wrong. The shock that ran through her body at seeing the stray tear that made its way down his cheek was more than words could explain, and she raised her hand to wipe it away softly. “I thought I was gonna lose you, doll. You weren’t waking up and there was so much blood loss already, I wasn’t sure if I made it in time. I wasn’t sure if I was ever gonna hear you say my name again, or if I’d ever been able to tell you how much I love you and that I am so, so sorry that all of this happened. I-” “James, this wasn’t your fault, so hush right now. We all know things like this happen, it’s part of the job description. Plus, on the bright side, they never went through with the execution thing and I’m alive! I consider this a win, personally.” He looked doubtful and only shook his head at Y/N’s words. “But this time it was my fault. They were after me, it wasn’t some mission gone bad. It was Hydra and they got into the tower to get to me know the best way to do that was to go through you. They know about you Y/N, what if they come again? They could do so much worse than this,” he ranted quickly, hardly drawing in a breath to only start again. “Buck-” she tried to interrupt, but he only continued on. “And what if next time I’m not there in time, huh? Or they get into the tower again, and we just can’t stop them. Y/N, if they know about you, if they know that you are the one thing I care about more than anything else, they are going to come after you again without question.” “James, I’ll be fine. I do this sort of thing for a living-” “But it’s not fine! They could kill you Y/N! They could kill you and it would be because of me that they did. Do you not understand that? This is why I was so hesitant to get close with anyone here, let alone a relationship, but now that I have it’s every single thing that I was terrified of and I don’t know if I will be able to stop them again! I got you into my mess because I’m being selfish and greedy because I love you but now that means I might lose you to the very people who stole everything from me! I can’t allow the-” “James!” She yelled loudly to cut him off and it finally seemed to have grabbed his attention as his eyes snapped to hers. She looked at him and made sure he was giving her his full attention, she needed him to be away from what she was saying and she knew he needed to hear it too. “Even after all of this, after everything that’ll come our way, nothing is going to stop me from being with you. I love you too much to suddenly leave because of something like this James. I knew what I was getting into when I first started talking to you. I saw you, all of you, and I knew I wanted to be a part of your life and you of mine. I have never doubted, not once, that you wouldn’t protect me with everything you have, so don’t you think that something as simple a bullet in the shoulder is enough for me to leave.” “Doll, I-” “No, it’s my turn to speak. James, I’m a trained assassin. I may not be as good as Natasha because Lord knows she is the best at her job, but I can take care of myself too. I screwed up and it was my fault, that is why they were able to get a hold of me. I didn’t realize that there were so many of them but they all shuffled in, and I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to get through them all alive. I was the one who let them take me because I knew you would come and that I could trust you to get me out of there. I trust you still, no matter what, I will always trust you, James. And I want you to be able to trust me too when I say that there isn’t anything in the entire world I would give for you. So no, I’m not going to go, I’m not going to get scared because your past comes knocking every once in a while, I’m not going to leave because I got a few bumps and bruises along the way.” She took a deep breath and offered him a warm smile, “Because I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. So unless you can look me in the eye right now and tell me that you don’t love me anymore, that you don’t want to be with me and that you aren’t happy with me. If you can’t look at me and say that honestly, I’m not going anywhere.” Y/N waited quietly as Bucky looked her in the eyes and grasped for words. His mouth opening and closing from time to time as he searched for the words to tell her that because in his eyes she could see his struggle for her to be safe but she could see the love too, and he knew he couldn’t tell her honestly. Hanging his head down low, he let out a breath of defeat, “No, no I can’t tell you that. I love you so damn much, I should be able to let you go for your own safety, I should be able to- But I can’t. I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” Y/N chuckled and ran her and through his hair gently, “Don’t be sorry James. I don’t want you to ever be able to tell me something like that. I don’t think I’d be able to survive without you anymore, you’re like my own personal knight in shining armour.” She grinned and lifted his chin so she could see his eyes again. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, Don’t you ever forget that,” she said seriously. “And I love you Y/N Y/L/N. More than you could ever possibly know.”

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chrome-mind · 7 years ago

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Summary: You and Drift bond over religion.

Warning(s): Christian themes

It was tough being a human on the Lost Light. Any second could be your last. Whether it be from the DJD or simply one of the ‘bots stepping on you. You didn’t want ‘Died by Foot’ on your gravestone, assuming you’d have one. So, you hung around Drift for the most part. He was always aware of the things around him, somehow, so it was almost an impossible feat to die on his watch.

Rodimus often stopped by. How Drift became friends with such a… combustible mech, was a mystery to you. You didn’t complain, it was interesting to watch Drift teach his friend how to use a sword, and equally amusing to see the first attempts.

The two of you often talked, yet neither of you shared much about yourselves. You knew that Drift believed in some religion, but you didn’t know the specifics. Thinking about this, you fiddled with the necklace in your hands, turning it over and messing with the chain. Drift looked over at you curiously, he had never seen you wear the item before and there were no organic colonies, of the ones that they visited, that had anything like it.

“Y/n, what is that?” he inquired, gesturing at the piece of jewelry. You raised your head, confused, before realising what he was speaking about. You held the necklace out for him to see “This?” you asked, but there was no need for a verbal confirmation, seeing how intently his optics scanned over it. His gaze caught the pendant attached to the chain. He brushed a large finger against it gently. “What does this symbol mean?” he asked, helm titled.

“It’s a symbol of faith, of my religion on Earth.” you replied, studying his face for any reaction. “What is it that you believe?” he questioned further. You hesitated, he seemed to be genuinely curious. “I believe in a creator that made us in his image. A creator who loves us dearly.”

Drift smiled warmly “Sometimes I forget how similar our races are.” he laughed lightly “Does this creator have a name?” “God.” the mech seemed to stall for a moment “Creative.” you chuckled “Some do call him other names.” the Autobot hummed “On Cybertron, we believe something similar. We call our creator Primus.” you huffed “Of course he has a cooler name.”

“Cybertronians believe that Primus became Cybertron and created us as a defense against Unicron the Chaos-Bringer.” “I’m gonna assume that is your equivalent of Satan.” you spoke. “On Earth, my religion believes that God created our world and everything on it. It was pure from the beginning, yet it was corrupted very soon after it’s creation. He guided people in it’s earlier years, eventually sending his son-” you hesitated, causing Drift to look at you worriedly “Is something wrong?” you shook your head “No, I’m simply trying to find a way to explain that he and his son are the same person.” the cybertronian simply tilted his head, saying nothing “Think of it as… symbiosis. They are the same, yet not.” he nodded “Anyways- he sent his son to Earth as human, but pure and sinless, as the world would have been. He was called Jesus.”

“He taught for a number of years. He didn’t go very far, yet his teachings reached to everyone. But, there was a group of men, who disliked him for his teachings.” you focused on Drift for a moment, finding that he had leaned forward “They were religious leaders, they were supposed to know and bring truth, but they became used to the power they had and resented him for finding fault in them. They called him a liar and tried to trick him and disprove his claims of being God’s son, but they couldn’t, he never did any wrong. So, they bribed one of his close friends with silver and told him to give them Jesus. The friend, Judas, betrayed Jesus and gave him over to them. He was set in an unfair trial and sentenced to be executed on a cross.” You held up the pendant on the necklace. Drift’s optics flickered in confusion “Why would you wear something that your God died on?” you smiled “That’s not the end. He was tortured a long time before he was nailed to the cross and died. They buried him in a stone tomb that had a boulder in front of it.” Drift still looked at you with a confused stare “They placed two guards in front of it. Nothing happened for three days.”

“On the last day, an angel appeared and the soldiers ran off. Later, Mary, Jesus’ mother, and her friend, went to the tomb and found it open and empty. The angel was still there and told them that Jesus had risen from the dead.” Drift interrupted you “Wait- are you still telling me about your religion, or did you change the subject without me noticing?” you laughed “No Drift! I’m still talking about the same thing.” the Autobot gave you a suspicious glance, but didn’t speak further.

“Anyways, the two women went to Jesus’ friends and told them the news. They went to the grave to see themselves and also saw that it was empty. They encountered Jesus later on. There were over five hundred witnesses that saw Jesus after his death.” Drift gave a sheepish smile “We don’t have many stories about Primus, almost all of them were destroyed in the war. Many do not believe he exists.” you hummed, nodding “Even with this much, people still don’t think God exists. It’s hard to believe.”

“It’s remarkable how similar they are compared to each other though.” Drift commented, pulling away from you. You tucked your necklace back into your shirt “Perhaps they aren’t different.” the mech paused, giving you a questioning glance “How do you mean?” “Humans and cybertronians aren’t that different, they have more in common than not.” you made gestures as you talked, hoping to convey your meaning. Drift’s expression was blank for a moment, before realisation creeped in.

“That is… an interesting theory. It would… make sense.” he said, processing the information he had just been given. “Just a theory.” you smiled.

#idw #mtmte #more than meets the eye #transformers #maccadams #drift #human reader #x reader #one shot #platonic

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mysticalreadingnerd · 7 years ago

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Let Me Warm Your Heart (Part 6)

Words: 2656

Summary: Love isn’t always rosy summers spent floating on tender clouds of euphoria. Sometimes it is loneliness and bracing the cold winters alone. Y/N and Credence both find the atmospheric dreariness reflected in their lives, separated as they are now.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any character of the FBAWTFT universe. I wouldn’t have to spend time slogging over studies if that were true.

Warnings: None

It was truly strange how life brought things into perspective too late. For some reason, Y/N remembered the time when she and Credence had bumped into each other late in the evening. This had happened a few days after coming across him in front of Broadway. She had been bone tired after a gruelling training session and didn’t watch where she was heading. That had resulted in stumbling head along into someone. And that someone had just happened to be Credence. Maybe it was the fates that kept pulling her thread towards his, interweaving them in such an ironical manner, judging by the way she always chanced upon him in the unlikeliest of places. Y/N had apologized profusely for her clumsiness, fearing that she had hurt him. She sat there, unaware that she was practically straddling him, a dozen flyers strewn around them. He had just stared at her for a while, not believing his luck and then smiled saying, “It’s okay. I was just thinking about you.”

The wind had rustled his hair and his earnest expression had sent a warm tingle in her heart, his eyes shining in the evening light and a small goofy smile alight on his face. That was when she had started falling for him, she suspected. There were many similar instances that were literal neon signs screaming ‘you’re in love’ now that she thought of it. The way his ears turned bright red when Y/N lightly teased him about being a ladies’ man after at least 3 elderly women had smiled at him. She thought he was adorable. The way his mouth made a surprised O when he had his first coffee, his calloused hands being soothingly warmed by its heat. This innocence needs to be protected, she had mused. The way he stood silently watching over the kids from the NSPS, making sure that they didn’t get into trouble with Mary Lou (it didn’t matter even if he did instead). How the dreary light of the oncoming winter made his sharp features stand out even more, with the shadows dancing across his face. But above all, it was the kindness that emanated from his chocolate brown eyes when he smiled at the lost kid they had found. Credence had managed to stop him from wailing even when she had been unable to.

She had been trying to deny it all this time, hoping that what she had felt was merely concern over a suffering boy she had stumbled across during a case. When in fact, she had been falling for the silent strength and gentleness with whose brilliance his soul shined. Y/N dragged a weary hand over her face, hoping she could be anywhere but this dimly lit room and wondered what Credence was doing right now. It was late afternoon and it been exactly three weeks since she had last seen him. He was probably scouting for a place for the next scheduled rally if her internal Credence tracker was correct. She thought about him often, at times, unaware that she was doing so until her mind had been consumed with the thoughts of the reticent man, thinking about how he used to smile at her with joy or look puzzled at something she said which he didn’t comprehend.

Y/N shivered in her seat and idly wondered whether he was weathering the winter cold still clad in his threadbare jacket. That was more than likely to be the case. The first snow had made its appearance the day before and had it been up to her, the boy would be bundled up under a thick pile of blankets and made to spend the whole day lazing around in bed while warm, home-cooked meals kept him full. But it was no use pondering about how things should have been when it was no longer in her hands to change them. She had decided that being out of his sight would probably be the best thing to do. After all, out of sight meant out of mind right? She groaned internally, cursing herself.

She knew better than anyone that Credence was starved for affection and given the attention she had been giving him, it was unlikely that he would forget her. If she had only been able to meet him once more, she could have cooked up a reason and made it seem like an assignment abroad. At least he wouldn’t worry about her and in turn, she for him. She had avoided the areas that they frequented and taken up longer work hours just to avoid accidently meeting him. But a part of her hoped that their paths would cross, just so that she could see him. See him and make sure that he was okay. But instead, Y/N found herself overseeing the interrogation of the wizard they had arrested for torturing Muggles. It shouldn’t have warranted her personal attention, but something about the man seemed… off.

For one, he refused to talk with any of the Aurors. No manner of questioning had yielded any results and President Picquery had been at her wits end as to how to make him talk. There had been growing concerns ever since Grindelwald had disappeared from Europe and if a probable henchman of his turned up in America is would spell problems for the MACUSA. Y/N stood behind a screened wall, a one way glass blocking the criminal’s view. But despite that, for the past one hour, ignoring all questions aimed at him, he kept staring straight at her. It seemed as if he was aware of her presence and was drilling a hole through the glass with his gaze. His slit-like black eyes followed her every move and it felt as if he were sizing her up. Chalking this notion as absurd, she signalled the interrogating Auror to step aside and took up the reins in her own hands. The moment she entered the room, he looked up at her, the first movement that he had made since he had been brought there. He considered her with a slight tilt of his neck, like a snake coiling and uncoiling, curious of its prey.

Y/N checked the reports related to his arrest, most of them not giving up much information about him except for vague facts about how he tortured the victims to near insanity using demonic forces. He had been a pain to restrain, the backlash of his magic bringing down an entire warehouse and nearly obliterating three agents. He had managed to escape twice before they had finally caught him, half passed out from using too much blood for his sacrifices (apparently, demon summoning required magical blood, much to their relief in this case). She had met her share of crazy, blood purists in her time as an Auror but nothing made her skin scrawl more than the dead black eyes staring at her. Y/N shrugged off the sinister vibes aimed at her.

“Let’s stop this pretence and get to the point, shall we? We have enough evidence to persecute you, and what awaits you doesn’t look good. Torture of innocent Muggles, one of whom was an ambassador, flagrant misuse of magic, use of dark rituals, forbidden blood magic, destruction of property through magical means in contradiction to secrecy laws, besides violating at least 40 other clauses of the International Statute of Secrecy. It will be easier to just talk and may be the MACUSA could be a bit lenient. You either speak up or face the execution squad. There’s no means of escape.” The man, Asian from his appearance, didn’t blink even once as he considered her words. As soon as she was done speaking, a snicker escaped him, at first low in pitch. Bubbling up his throat, it grew louder and louder until it was a full blown laugh. The hair on her arms stood up at end as the air surrounding them crackled with magic.

“You are funny”, he said, a smirk painted on his face. He hadn’t moved an inch from where he had been sitting throughout the interrogation, restrained with bindings, recovering from battle injuries without even his wand on him. Being able to channel magic despite that meant that he was dangerous beyond their comprehension. If he were to unleash his true powers, burning the MACUSA to the ground with no one else standing would be cake walk for him. Calmly, in a silent show of her authority Y/N stood up and spoke, “You can rethink your stance on this. It would be better to talk instead of wasting your energy like this. But you won’t have long.”

She exited the room to the sound of his booming laughter, as Aurors rushed towards the room to secure him. She ordered them to keep him in complete isolation, tied up and no one to enter his cell without her express permission. This was a matter more grave than she had imagined. They would have to use force if necessary and though she didn’t like using underhanded means, the alternative seemed grimmer than they could afford. She would have to report to the President soon and though she wasn’t looking forward to it, Percival Graves too. Dark times were here.

Credence looked up when a hand tapped on his arm for a flyer, but the touch was too rough, too hasty to be hers. Still, ever hopeful, his gaze did a quick sprint to the person’s face only to be disappointed. Yet again. It was just another street-side vendor looking for ways to pass his break time. He sighed as his Ma droned on in the background, his body slumping further into its perpetual slouch. He wondered for the umpteenth time where Y/N was. It had been 21 days since she had last met him. Not that he had been counting or anything. It wasn’t that they had decided to meet up regularly (it usually happened through mere coincidences) but this was quite unusual for her. He had grown so used to her presence in his life that her sudden absence made it that much harder.

It felt like a lifetime since he had last seen her. Not just in his imagination or conjured up in his dreams like a wisp of a memory but in person, seen her brimming with life and filling his own with vibrancy, felt her laugh vibrate through his ear drums, touched her soft, unmarred hand as it warmed his own along with his ever beating heart, which sped up every time their eyes met. He just wished to see her once more, if for nothing else, but to make sure that she was okay. He had been worried sick by all the disastrous ‘what ifs’ that his mind had conjured over her prolonged disappearance and his heart ached with longing and sadness, anxious for her well being and hurting at her unexplained absence. Before his mind went off on a similar tangent, he scanned the crowd again just to make sure that she wasn’t there.

It comprised of the usual people mixed in with a few unfamiliar faces, spread across ages, some of them curious, others whiling away time with nothing better to do. Credence was about to look away when an elderly woman standing on the periphery caught his eye. Being short in height she struggled to see what was happening and stood on her tiptoes. Silently, he withdrew from his position and approached her, hoping to help her navigate the crowd.

Unsure whether to call out or to tap on her shoulder to draw her attention, he was put out of his indecision when the lady lost her balance and stumbled across his feet. He steadied her reflexively as a few of the flyers slipped from his grasp. A strong sense of déjà vu hit him when he realised that this was how he and Y/N had first met. A pair of kind eyes looked at him as the woman regained her balance, her hand resting on his arm for support. Credence did his best not to flinch at the touch. He still found it difficult unless it was Y/N’s. “Thank you, young man.” A lilting voice accompanied the warm smile. She seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place where he had seen her, if at all. Maybe he had seen her at a previous rally. “I hope I didn’t hurt you, child.”

Credence looked at her once again, struck afresh by the words she spoke. Then he remembered her. It was the same woman who he had met during a rally, the kind Asian grandma who had complemented him on his name. Today she had donned a flowing winter coat instead of a kimono, so he couldn’t recognise her in the first instance but the homely aura still clung to her demeanour. In response to her question, he merely shook his head. “I’m glad”, she hummed in relief, “It wouldn’t sit right with me if I hurt a sweet soul like you, even if unknowingly.” Her words though gentle hit him in the gut. He looked at his adoptive mother, who was winding up her speech, calling supporters to come forth when they petitioned for wider public awareness. Coldness crept in his chest and settled there. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the woman observing him carefully.

“Credence?” he looked at the grandma again, surprised that she had remembered his name after all this time. “Don’t look so surprised. I may be old, but my memory is like an elephant’s”, she chuckled at her own joke, its meaning lost on him. “Besides, I could never forget a handsome boy as you even if I tried.” Crimson dusted his cheeks at the compliment and he remembered Y/N’s words of being a natural ladies’ man. It couldn’t be true, could it? “I’m not”, he muttered denying any such notions. “I won’t insist on it if you’re uncomfortable but I speak nothing but the truth.” Her eyes twinkled and he couldn’t help the small lift the corner of his lips did.

“Credence?” Another voice called out to him ,this time louder and more impatient, lacking all warmth that the previous caller had. The chill in his chest spread to his bones, creeping into his marrow. His attention whipped to the centre of the crowd where his mother stood looking at him with calculative eyes. “Duty calls, I presume?” the old woman asked, sizing up the elder Barebone now approaching them. Credence gulped, unsure whether he had done anything wrong or not. “Hello, I hope there isn’t any problem?” Mary Lou assessed the single flyer that had escaped his notice when they had bumped, her eyes flashing though a smile adorned her face.

The lady smiled and said, “None at all. This fine man here was just helping me pick up the flyer I dropped in my clumsiness, silly old me can’t do much except live out my abundant pensions you see. From what he told me, your cause seems quite noteworthy. I’d love to hear more about it.” Mary Lou gave him a once over, before deciding that things seemed fairly in order and launching into an in depth campaign talk with the woman.

Credence couldn’t help but be bemused at how she had managed to divert Ma’s attention and saved his skin in the process. He silently thanked her, glad that angels similar to Y/N were still present in this world. He let out a sigh, all would be well with life if only he could meet her soon. “Don’t dally, there’s work to do”, his mother said to him over her shoulder, a cold look freezing him in his tracks. She glared at the flyer on the ground in a silent warning. Picking up the fallen flyer with his icy fingers, Credence hoped he could see Y/N before this winter froze his heart beyond redemption.

Tag list: @multifandom-slytherin @mysticracoon @retardedhumanhere @thequeerishere555 @daeshaunex2

A/N: My procrastinating ass has no excuse besides being totally unproductive since the last update. Sigh. Not completely happy with this but I needed to get plot rolling forward. I will eternally hate filler chapters. Message me to be added to the tag list. The last three tags don’t seem to detect you guys, please tweak your settings to enable tags.

~ Mystical reading nerd

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goodguyjean · 7 years ago

Note

Could you maybe expand a little on why you think the relationship between the vets is more complicated than people make it out to be? I'm very interested! Thank you :)

Hi anon! I’m putting this ask under the cut because it is a bit lengthy. For context, it is a response to this post from October 1rst … almost two months ago … ^^’

CW: Brief mention of the torture scene.

Firstoff, my deepest apologies for the very late reply. I would say that I wasmulling, and I was, but also I was just busy and writing has been a little bithard for me since I finished my A exams. I’m also going to apologize for theunpolished state of this answer. Although I stand by my observation that Ithink fandom oversimplifies the relationships between Hange, Levi, and Erwin, Ialways like to be careful and there’s a part of me that feels like an extensivere-reading of the manga and semi-canon materials such as interviews would benecessary to write a full meta about the vets, and I just have not been able tomanage that task at present. I don’t want to leave this ask hanging untilChristmas, however, so consider these my preliminary thoughts that I am happyto revise later :)

Secondly,an acknowledgment. Over the past couple months I have periodically returned tothis ask and discussed it with my good friend @mirandafandomette, and they havehelped me nuance my ideas about Erwin, Levi, and Hange even further. It hasbeen fun and enlightening and I really owe a lot of this answer to them.Thanks, bro!

Here’sa summary of my position on the vets’ relationships with one another. I thinkit runs slightly contrary to majority fandom opinion (as far as I can tell) andeven to some things that Isayama himself has said about his intentions for thecharacters (I haven’t the time at the moment to track down specific interviews,but it’s worth putting up this disclaimer: an author’s opinions and intentionsare an interesting and important part of analysis, but they’re not theend-all-be-all of interpretation). The vets—for our purposes, Levi, Hange, andErwin—all trust each other and are, to a certain extent, loyal to each other,but Erwin uses people, even people he respects and admires, and this propensitycomplicates his relationships with Levi and Hange. However, Levi and Hange areboth very aware that Erwin uses them,and they believe that Erwin is the best shot humanity has of both defeating thetitans and making significant societal changes that will be better for the Walled World overall. They believe this fact even after realizing that Erwin is more motivatedby a very personal goal than general goodwill for humanity.

I thinkthis is the most controversial bit of my analysis: Erwin is so interestingbecause he has this personal goal he’s trying to achieve and he feels guilty about it, but doesn’t give it upuntil the very end of his life. Erwin’s motivation is to be right about the outside world, toconfirm that there are humans beyond the walls. And unlike Armin, who dreamsabout exploring the outside world and reclaiming humanity’s freedom, Erwin hastrouble thinking beyond uncovering the secrets of the Yeager basement andconfirming his theories once and for all.

Chapter 72. He has a basic strategy, but he is putting off future plans until after he gets what’s in the basement. This is not an unsound strategy, obviously–it’s important to know what they’re preparing for before they make a final plan of defense! But we also know by this point that Erwin’s true focus is the basement.

In themanga, Erwin flat out admits to Levi that uncovering this information is moreimportant to him than humanity’s victory.

Chapter 72.

Chapter 80.

And, toa certain extent, it’s understandable that he would be so invested in thistopic: his questioning of established history led to his father’s abduction andexecution, thereby awakening Erwin to the sheer level of corruption within theWalled World. He’s willing to go to great lengths to get these answers,including pulling off a military coup.

Chapter 55.

Themorality of Erwin is a complicated topic, but one worth addressing beforegetting into the nitty-gritty of his relationships with his closest comrades,Levi and Hange. On the one hand, answers about the outside world are necessaryin order to save the humans within the Walled World, the government is horriblycorrupt and ultimately set upon the doom of its people, and, when push comes toshove, Erwin does put his dreams of knowingfor certain aside in order to make sure that his mission to retake WallMaria succeeds. On the other hand, his methods are sloppy and based on hunches(he constantly refers to himself as a “gambling man”), he risks large numbersof lives for information, and ultimately backs Zackly as a leader for theWalled World: and who is Zackly but another corrupt military official? Theflawed system of the Walled World doesn’t change substantially; sure, there’sno First King anymore, but the military hierarchy remains in place under afifteen year-old queen who, while determined, is not the de facto ruler butmore of a figurehead (although she does seem to make some decisions). So, tosum up, Erwin is not necessarily a good person, but neither is he a terribleperson; I would argue that he is therefore complex and a “good” character.

I bringall of these details up because it’s important to realize that, up until the endof Erwin’s life, everything is secondary to figuring out whether or not thereare humans outside the Walls. He only moves things around in the governmentjust enough so that he can to get to the basement; if his goals were more communallyminded, perhaps he would have been more careful about picking Zackly as apartner. He even says to Zackly that if he really cared about humanity, itmight have been better to let the monarchy stand as it was (reallyquestionable, but I think he’s right to have his doubts that the coup as itplayed out was the best solution).

Chapter 62.

So,given that Erwin’s priorities are clear, how do these priorities affect his twomost trusted comrades, Hange and Levi? On the one hand, they’re assets: peoplewho have questions about the state of the world and want to change it, peoplewho believe that his strategic mind is a catalyst for that change in order toimprove the lives of humanity. As such, they are loyal to him and he uses theirconviction to further his own ends. On the other hand, he obviously respectsthem and even allows them to “act on their own,” as Zackly reminds him—but thisaction serves Erwin’s main goal of uncovering the truth about the world andproving his father right.

Chapter 62.

However,there’s another twist to this story: Hange and Levi know they’re being used andunderstand it on some level. They see it as necessary. Levi, for instance,talks often of playing “his part”, if it will ultimately help humanity. Andhe’s sided with Erwin, has formed whatever the mystical “Ackerbond” is withErwin, because some part of him believes that Erwin is necessary for his owngoal of saving humankind. Between the two of them, Levi seems to have moreempathy for humans, to be more horrified by their fates, and has only willinglybecome a “monster” for their sakes. In this way he actually contrasts withErwin, whose “monstrosity” stems from a more personal interest.

Chapter 51. The contrast between Erwin and Levi’s reactions to learning that the mindless titans they’ve been killing this time are probably all humans.

Chapter 72. Levi becoming a “monster” to save Erwin and, by extension, humanity.

Chapter 80.

And, aswe can see above, Levi seems to have some kind of sentimental attachment toErwin, however you want to define it. And perhaps Erwin uses that affection; forexample, it is Levi’s affection that convinces him, against his betterjudgment, to “allow” Erwin to go to the front lines and sacrifice himself toget in the intelligence he’s so desperately desired since he was a child.

Chapter 72. Levi’s response to Erwin saying that being there when they open the Yeagers’ basement is more important to him than humanity’s victory.

In theend, even though he knows that humanity “needs” Erwin to make sense of theinformation from the basement and come up with a strategy to move forward, hedecides that Erwin must be allowed to rest—he should be resurrected to turnhimself into a monster for the sake of others anymore. Regardless of how wemight feel about Levi’s rationale, it is what ultimately informs his decisionabout who will be revived on the rooftops on Shiganshina.

Chapter 84.

Hange,meanwhile, seems caught in the middle. On the one hand, they share Erwin’s wishto know for the sake of knowing, but their desire for such knowledge comes withlimits.

Chapter 83. Hange is surprisingly unwilling to take a chance with Reiner.

Additionally,while they never break rank and remain steadfastly loyal to Erwin, evenadmitting that they believe Levi’s decision during the serumbowl was a mistake,Hange comes under considerable stress carrying out Erwin’s plans, particularlyduring the coup. It seems to me to be another gamble on Erwin’s part to put somuch trust in Hange under these circumstances, and yet it pays off becauseHange’s faith that the coup is the best option for humanity pushes to them takethe lead in Erwin’s absence.

Chapter 55. Hange has doubts after tortuting Sannes for information–uncomfortable with their role as the next “Sannes,” so to speak.

Chapter 57. Erwin leaving the Survey Corps to Hange while he heads off the king and the MP.

Chapter 60. Hange continuing the work of the Survey Corps, and Erwin’s coup, after Erwin has been taken prisoner by the state.

So ifErwin is using Hange and Levi, their faith in him and their affection, doesthat leave no room for reciprocation? I am uncertain. Everything comes secondto his dream until his last desperate charge, and I think we could speculatethat perhaps he holds people at a distance because of his early experience withloss. The lesson he learns when his father disappears is that his curiositycosts lives and that the quest for forbidden knowledge requires sacrifice: andto make it worth it, you have to achieve your end. Erwin probably couldsacrifice Hange and Levi, with great remorse perhaps, if it meant knowing forcertain what was in that basement. It is only in his last moments, when thereis no chance of his personal survival, that he entrusts Levi with his personalquest. And it is true that this is a great display of faith and something thatgives Erwin peace, but it comes only when there are no other options left tohim.

Chapter 80. Levi talks Erwin into the suicide charge.

I’msorry that this explanation of my thoughts is a bit rambling and that I’mtreating the material in a kind of cursory manner—one could and perhaps shouldgo into more detail to break down the relationships between Erwin and Hange andErwin and Levi, but I don’t think I can do that work soon. I also think that anexamination of Levi and Hange’s relationship should be another post unto itself—Iwill say quickly that I believe them to be more equal despite Hange’s superiorrank, and they have trust and affection a plenty between them.

Iappreciate this note anon and I apologize once again for my lateness! I’m alsosorry that I couldn’t do this meta justice >

#replies #anonymous #maybe I'll tag this properly later #sorry for the delayed reply

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fuse2dx · 4 years ago

Text

May ‘20

Prequel Story of Detective Saburo Jinguji - Daedalus: The Awakening of Golden Jazz

What a title. Ludicrous as it may seem, there is some value in closer observation though, as this is the same series that has previously reached the west under the ‘Jake Hunter’ name. This time however, it is labelled as ‘alternate’ Jake Hunter - so alternate that they’ve written an origin story and have taken to keeping the protagonist’s original ‘Saburo Jinguji’ name through to the English version. Sorry Jake, old boy.

It's still a story-driven title, one which has you jumping into Saburo’s shoes, back from Japan to New York to investigate his own grandfather’s murder. This has you revisiting the last case he’d been working, meeting with his friends and contacts, as well as catching up and reminiscing with pals from when you were last in the city. It's not too over-dramatic with its moment-to-moment story telling, and a lot of its bigger surprises are telegraphed a bit too openly, but the story is capable and enjoyable at least.

The visuals are quite unique, and are definitely one of the more noteworthy elements of the package. The environments appear to have been shot with a 360 degree camera, then filtered to shake out some of the detail. Characters sit on top of this as 2D cut-outs, stylised with distinctive but quite charmingly sketchy linework. It's not Rembrandt by a long shot, but at its better moments it does have a fairly unique, somewhat impressionistic look to it, while still providing the functionality to look around a scene fully for yourself.

Some of the rest of the design is much less effective; one example being the 'mind tree' - intended as a physical manifestation of deductions made, instead looking like alphabet soup. There’s a lot less thought in the audio stakes too - a lot of the tracks are not only re-used, but hinge on very short loops that permeate through a number of scenes without a concern for listener fatigue. The default volume for your button presses are bafflingly loud in the mix too, but at least this can be fixed from a visit to the options menu.

If the series were to continue and build on it, there's some decent foundations laid here. Some localisation issues - a number of very odd translation choices, and a space after every apostrophe being a particularly torturous error - and what is generally quite a brief and low-key story does leave this a little flat though.

The Missing: J. J. Macfield and the Island of Memories

I swear I’m not picking games to play based on ridiculously long names, but here we are. SWERY is a designer who's very quickly established himself and his own voice in game-making, and even in what's arguably a more confined genre, he's still found plenty of opportunity to bring buckets of personality.

While a platform game at heart, it's more puzzle-based than anything - think more Abe's Odyssey or Flashback, rather than Sonic the Hedgehog. There’s a very striking duality to it too; conversation threads managed through your phone paint the picture of your character as a normal girl interacting with her friends, family, and tutors, whereas the gameplay in the forefront sets about immediately to paint a more nightmarish, decidedly macabre relationship with the world around her. There's a pretty serious story underpinning all of this which develops as these two worlds converge, and although it does remain fairly abstract, it does warrant a cautionary note. As J.J, the consequences you suffer are brutal, but not just when you fail, rather as mandatory puzzle-solving tools. Being electrocuted, burnt, dismembered and the like are necessary steps in precise sequences you need to execute perfectly to proceed. Perform one step incorrectly - which you will - and it's back to the start to repeat the self-abuse all while enduring its accompanying screams and suffering.

It's a surprising and thoughtful game - certainly a lot deeper than you might assume from a cursory glance at it - and although not an unreserved recommendation, is definitely a standout title in terms of ambition to do something different.

The Stretchers

There is something very strange to me about a Nintendo-published game having such a quiet reception. I remember The Stretchers cropping up on a Nintendo Direct one time, but aside from that I feel like there's little noise being made about this, when it's the kind of charming, family-friendly, couch co-op game that perfectly fills a space in the Switch's library.

You can, like me, an idiot, play this game through in single player. Your two paramedics are controlled by each side of a single controller, making this the perfect game for those who love to pat their hat and rub their belly simultaneously. Things may start easy enough, and even when the challenge ramps up, it's imposed more through diminished rewards rather than hard stops. But what I imagine to be a much more sensible option is the two-player setup, where each player takes on the role of one paramedic, and the challenge of co-ordination becomes more about talking, and I assume, mind-reading. The same relationship-ruining potential from Overcooked is here in spades.

In short, there's a hokey villain going about town, using his inventions to confuse people and have them lie about in a daze, and your typical assignment has you drive to a location, avoid various obstacles, load folks up on your stretcher, and cart them back to the hospital for fixing up. It'd perhaps be a serious affair, if the ambulance didn't handle like something out of Crazy Taxi, the obstacles weren't total slapstick, and every mission isn't bookended with your radio handler dropping puns like a writer's room full of dad joke enthusiasts.

In short, it's a lot of fun. If you have someone to play this with, you should.

A Short Hike

Just as with any kind of media, wider context is important when talking about games. This might not be the place to deep dive on the state of the world right now, but I feel a fair summary is that 2020 hasn't been a great year for many of us humans. Playing it today, A Short Hike feels like the right game for a wrong time.

It sees you taking a break on an island where your aunt works, and many other people (read: animals) visit, whether it's to paint, make sandcastles, or even run a race. The one thing you're missing - mobile phone signal - may come across a little incongruous from this idyllic getaway, but don't worry about that for now, and instead just let it do its simple job of pointing you to the mountain atop the island. Exploring various nooks and crannies, meeting people, and helping them along their way grants golden feathers which in turn allows you to traverse further - jumping more, climbing higher. More poignantly, they'll also have charmingly open little snippets of conversation to share with you. It's a really beautiful little microcosm of positivity - carrying the kind of whimsy that I imagine folks similarly look to the likes of Animal Crossing for. It's not a long or particularly arduous affair, but the struggle in making it to the top of the mountain, and the little celebrations I enjoyed on the way back down were the kind of life affirming shot in the arm that I didn't even realise I needed.

Dragon Quest

Yes, that one. It's probably important to state up front that I played the Switch version, as it's pretty clear that there are a lot of efforts in the name of modernisation which are more likely to upset fans than please them. Environment art has remained in its original format, whereas your character has shirked his pixelised warts in favour of a HD paint-over, for instance. There's a pretty obvious clash as a result, but at the same time, if you've never played it before and don't have a chip on your shoulder about accuracy, you may find this totally serviceable. Giving us nice HD enemy sprites may even make this an upgrade, even. So, I'll leave the comparisons for those who care enough to research them elsewhere, and instead let's talk about the game.

For something that's nearly as old as me, what feels like the biggest note to lead with is that with expectations set appropriately, it's still very good, and very playable. While a lot of important RPG standards weren't set till years after it, there are plenty of others which were likely quite groundbreaking as they stood here. I may be somewhat speculative on exact details there, rather than having the complete history of the genre mapped out - particularly given this is a revised edition - but I hope you can let that slide. So yes, a single party member with no personality to speak of following a very linear series of events may not be what folks expect today, but if you can understand that things happen over time, then there's a perfectly functional, plenty charming turn-based RPG at the heart of it.

Talking to NPCs might not be everyone's favourite favourite way to while away time, but once you realise they often tell you things of value and aren't just padding things out, you soon start to re-acquaint yourself with these less bombastic rhythms. Being far more vocal than your own character, this more recent translation has been given room for these village-dwelling NPCs to take on a bit of character too. The attempts at aping certain dialects may raise a smile, but similarly might frustrate if you're approaching this with English not being your mother tongue. Back-tracking and moving about the world is relatively painless, mainly on account of spells that do just that, and though yes, you'll likely need a spot of grinding here and there along the way, it's still short enough (about ten hours) to never get too arduous.

Thinking about the first games I played, then the first RPGs of this nature, when I played them, their relative levels of sophistication... it all highlights to me just how special this would have been to anyone who was there for this all the way back in '86. The start of an empire for good reason.

Dragon Quest II

... and here comes the sequel. The same pre-amble applies here; I don't really have the frame of reference to talk about pros and cons of the port here, so I'll be trying my best to think around that instead.

Straight off the bat though, you notice a lot of the big changes are incremental. Rather than one hero, you set out with three. Rather than fighting enemies one at a time, why not a whole handful? Dragon Quest ++ could be just as apt a title, particularly given the big change with the make-up of your party is the distribution of roles (the internet informs me this is the only DQ game where your main character has no spell casting capability) rather than the introduction of actual characterisation. That's not to say it's not lacking in charm - by jove guv'na, there's more of this bleedin' accent bizniss - along with Akira Toriyama's still-strong menagerie of monster designs.

It's a little bit longer, quite a bit bigger - heck - you even need a boat to get around it. Given the story is a continuation of the first game, albeit years later, there's even the opportunity to revisit areas from the old game on top of all of the new. This may all make things sound boring or derivative, but no, let's not get away from the fact that this is still plenty competent and enjoyable. The series may not have blossomed fully yet, but it's still an improved version of an already enjoyable game.

Dragon Quest III

Ok, NOW we're talking. Going between these games in a short space of time allows for some pretty conveniently direct comparisons - though I'm sure in future it'll also frustratingly blend them all together in my head too. Despite this, the jump between titles here is far more significant, and in almost every way for the better. That generational leap into 16 bit territory does wonders on all fronts; treating you to a slick intro (complete with graphics!), bigger and more detailed environments with a night/day cycle, more distinguished instrumentation in the soundtrack, and the doors blown wide open for the game to deliver a much bigger and less linear journey through the story.

The class system has seen a major upgrade too, and while you have autonomy on the makeup of your party, as well as the ability to later on mix and match abilities to make some wicked powerful allies, there is still the slightly disappointing note that as a result, these are total nobodies as far as the story goes. But overall things are just so much better; the game is much longer, yes, but it's also got so much more breathing space for there to be variation in how you tackle things and in what order. Minor discoveries and secrets can be found that are now just far enough off the given path that they do actually feel special. Personally, I've a huge sense of nostalgia for this era of games, and to tap into one that I missed at the time, and to still find it quite so fresh, was a pretty great feeling. Before anyone asks: no, I'm not playing DQ IV any time soon.

Blazing Chrome

Let's start by being nice and labelling Blazing Chrome as a homage. If you've played the Contra games of the 90s, you'll recognise this very quickly, and in fairness to the game, it's not as if they're trying very hard to hide it either. The first level is a particularly unsubtle attempt to ape the opener from Contra Spirits, that unfortunately felt off by just enough for it to throw me. Out of necessity the sprites are bigger and more detailed, but the stage itself doesn't tap into the essence of its inspiration quite so well, rather decidedly plain and restricted. Later stages thankfully get a bit (not much) more colourful and ambitious.

Contra's never been famous for its ease, and here the moment-to-moment is just as merciless. Reckless play is punished quickly, and knowing what's coming is an advantage, but still one that's easily squandered if you don't time things quite right. So yes, your stock of lives is very easily depleted, yet the continue mechanism to balance this is overly generous - bringing you back to a recent checkpoint rather than pushing you to crack the level in one shot. Assuming you're willing to put aside that shameful credit-feeding chip on the shoulder, the game ends up being tackled in small sections, which although cheap, can still be quite tough in the later sections.

It clearly likes Contra's set pieces too - there's a few biking sections, some vertical auto-scrolling, a pseudo-3D on-rails bit - and while they're not all quite as enjoyable as one another, they're all reasonable enough distractions. It's clearly operating within guidelines not to do anything too fancy that doesn't fit its 16 bit aesthetic, but it also likes trying to replicate the moments and their graphical techniques that made games at the time special - bosses swoop by in full 'Mode7' style, and speeding through stages on a bike is accented by parallax-scrolled landscapes whizzing by in the background.

It's a fun, short game to breeze through that does perhaps lean a bit too hard on nostalgia to get the most out of it. Crucially, it's not as good as the titles it apes either, but it does serve as a convenient reminder of why they're great.

Cytus α

Good rhythm games tend to be fairly openly structured - play what you want, maybe get better at them, have fun. It's a core loop that can make good ones particularly addictive, and it's also why I find myself so dismissive of new ones that don't do anything inventive, or improve what's already out there. In this case, sorry, I'd sooner be playing Ouendan (or Elite Beat Agents).

In fairness to Cytus, I've done it a total disservice by playing with a controller, rather than undocking the Switch and tapping the screen as it so clearly intends - a bar would move up and down the screen in metronomic fashion, with the player tapping and dragging at circles rhythmically as they overlap. Whereas in my defence, I didn't fancy inflicting such intensive jabbing at the system, nor was the game ever particularly up-front about how it'd intended for me to play. Music choices are obviously entirely subjective, so I'll just settle for saying it's got a reasonable range of tracks that cater most regularly for electronic, dance-y numbers, that grabbed me rarely. It does borrow some music I knew I enjoyed from DJ Max - which seemed a good in-road, but sadly just highlighted it again; I'd rather be playing these songs in a different game. There's also a very in-depth but totally ridiculous story about AIs that I tuned out from in record time, but it does make for some neat key art that reminds me of the video to Bjork's 'All is Full of Love'. The actual UI sticks to a fairly minimal and monochrome theme, but during songs you're left with little more than a washed out background image while you play. It shouldn't be, and isn't important, but it's just another slightly lacking aspect of the game.

I've also still not found time yet for Voez or Deemo. Sorry, Rayark.

The Red Strings Club

Cyber-punky, drinks-serving talk 'em up. My mind expected VA11-HALL-A, and while they both do a great job serving up a tonne of cool-as-heck atmosphere, it's a much less passive ride here. There's some beautiful music; somewhat jazzy but sombre as heck piano scores the opening perfectly, but rather than just letting these moods wash over you too long, Red Strings Club drags you quickly in. The cyberpunk themes may not be anything new - a body-modifying big corporate is looking to modify existing products and over-extend its reach in the hope of enhancing human happiness - but it services the story as a backdrop quite neatly.

As a short game with a considered cast of characters, the fact you step into the shoes as a number of them as the story moves on allows for a very direct presentation of cause and effect. There's set pieces that are impactful, and real successes and losses to experience within them that weigh heavy as you carry on through. Donavan, the informant-slash-bartender, serves drinks that align to, and send his patrons down a particular emotional route. Make them feel a certain way, and they may get loose lips on certain topics - or they might shut up entirely. The game does a great job of drawing you into these conversations, giving you real cause to stop and think, highlighted in particular when you're then grilled afterwards to see just how much you grasped about them. Not just whether you understood the information exchange at face level, but also the sub-text of how they felt towards you, what's driving them, who they trust, and so on. At another point, a particular line of conversation steered into one character playing devil's advocate on one issue to the point that they ended up labelling my answers as being hypocritical - and damnit, they weren't wrong. Being both insulted and charmed at the same time was a strange feeling.

The story does a lot in such a short space of time, and is particularly rewarding given there were so many clear branching paths along the way. Somewhere between buying this and starting to play it, I forgot that it was from the team responsible for Gods Will Be Watching. I originally wrote a bit about that in 2016, and while flawed, it stayed with me as something I really enjoyed long after I sat down with it. I'm really pleased with this as their next move - it's just as considered and thoughtful, but without the balls-hard outer layer to bounce off. I think it's pretty special. Bravo.

#saburo jinguji #daedalus #the missing #j. j. macfield and the island of memories #the stretchers #a short hike #dragon quest #dragon quest 2 #dragon quest 3 #blazing chrome #cytus α #the red strings club

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