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saturdaysickness · 8 months ago

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4.3.24 - the liminal space called assimilation

it's been almost 2 years since my last journal entry. in those 2 years. there was a lot of personal development happening that has helped me reach some kind of stability that the me in previous journal entries struggled to find. guess you could say i "grew" in those 2 years. i've finally become a bit more "rational" (using this word loosely because i don't consider myself to be completely rational just yet).

well, i'm 24 now, which means i have technically entered the mid 20's, phasing out of the early 20's of entries from 2 years ago. i don't remember exactly what my 22-year-old self imagined my current self to be, but i'm sure glad i'm not in that space anymore!!!!!!!!! god, it was awful.

im finally finishing my undergrad this summer, which has me thinking a lot recently. themes around growing up as an immigrant, being the first in the family to go through the american higher education system and having to navigate it by myself, and a yearning to reclaim what was missing during my coming-of-age years keep circulating my thoughts. i guess the adulthood growing pains i discussed 2 years ago, the feeling of being torn between wanting to stay as a child versus having to grow up still lingers, though this time around, i feel like i am finally ready to step into full-blown adulthood while honoring/healing the child in me (using "healing the child" loosely, again, because this concept is tossed around so much that i feel like it has kind of lost its weight and became a kind of buzzword).

anyhow, i wrote this a few days ago while tossing and turning in bed, struggling to sleep on the night before my first day of class for the last term of my undergrad studies. i couldn't stop thinking about how close i am to finishing school, but at what cost. the journey has been painful, to say the least. i kept imagining in my head what i would say if someone were to ask me on the day of my graduation how i feel now that i have graduated, in which i see myself responding with: "it wasn't worth it, if it takes you more than 4 years to complete an undergrad then maybe just give up, maybe i should've given up". obviously, that's not my general outlook on higher education because as we know, navigating higher education is not a linear path nor should there be some kind of deadline that everyone must follow. rather, i am projecting. i am projecting what life would be if i didn't feel the burden to be the first in my family to hold a degree. i am projecting what life would be like if i didn't "waste" time stretching out my schooling, i could have been completing graduate school instead if i had stayed on track. i am projecting where i would potentially be now had i just gave up on school. part of me still feel that perhaps i would be more Free if i had just given up entirely and focused on something else that makes me happy rather than fulfilling my family's hopes. nonetheless, this is where i am now, i am proud of myself for returning to school and following through with it after so many struggles and failures, despite the pain that it brings me. i am proud of myself, for my resilience, not what i will be accomplishing, which is quite sad and very "first-world problems" of me because i should be very grateful that i have had the opportunity to participate in higher education. anyway, that's enough prefacing, below are my 5am thoughts.

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when i was young, i couldn’t wait to grow older so that i could finally wear the white áo dài that high schoolers wear, too bad i left viet nam a few years before that dream came true.

at the beginning of the pandemic, i had a lot of time to reflect on my relationship with my identity and feelings about living in diaspora, all at the ripe age of 20. i yearned for home yet struggled with feeling like that connection was far too damaged in my process of assimilation. i couldn't write in vietnamese without consulting google translate on every other word, and my reading comprehension degraded so bad that i no longer had the ability to scan texts. i felt shameful, how could someone born, lived, and partially grown up there turn out this way - it's a disgrace. so i began texting my parents in vietnamese. first without the accent marks, because i was embarrassed about making spelling errors, then finally incorporating them once i've gained enough confidence- this was the first time i had texted them in vietnamese in the 10 years that we've immigrated. i was ashamed of my immigrant identity in grade school and chose to abolish all traces connecting to that piece of me; i went as far as lying about being born in the us to internet friends, even though my voice rang with an accent whenever we skyped. but i was content with erasing that part of myself if it meant i could shield myself from scrutiny. i worked on my accent- to sound like Everyone Else; i would repeat certain words/phrases until they sounded Correct; i would practice my speech in front of the mirror to see how my words and manners would be perceived; i recorded my voice to hear what it Truly sounds like to others because i had read from somewhere that sometimes your ears deceive you of the actual sounds you are making. i would (somewhat forced myself to) read books and watch shows to further perfect this american accent and develop my vocabulary. is this why i can't bear to sit down and enjoy a fictional novel or shows/movies anymore as an adult? i didn't want to sound dumb because i believed that people think immigrants are dumb.

16: Phương Vy to Susan, legally

i no longer looked forward to wearing the white áo dài as a high schooler since that objective has now become obsolete, instead, i was counting down to the day when i naturalize because then i knew that legally, i can no longer be ostracized. i could then flex a travel picture on instagram with my blue american passport and substitute teachers could no longer mispronounce my name. i used to get extremely anxious when there would be a sub for class because that meant they would butcher my name and someone would laugh. i lived in this fear up until high school where i developed a fool-proof strategy: to tell the sub ahead of time before roll call that i go by Susan instead of Vy (pronounced: vee). i would even mispronounce my own name on purpose as vai so that they could find it on the list.

and the day came, i was 16, our family had been in the us for 6 years, and we had finally gathered enough money to afford the application process. i was lucky to not have to take the test, but my parents pored over the practice questions every night after work for months. my dad was the first to take the citizenship test - it was the same day i was getting my braces off. he called my mom and i after my appointment to let us know that he has passed. instead of feeling joy for him, i felt a selfish relief for myself. 16, now with straight pearly whites AND a us citizenship? i was as american as one could be. first order of business was to get my name changed, i was adamant that it was done quickly. my mom took out time from work going back and forth with the city court for a few months to legally change my name to Susan. i struggled to determine whether i wanted to keep Phương Vy or just Vy as my legal middle name, in which i ended up settling with just Vy because those with longer names usually find themselves having a harder time in bureaucratic processes, as i have witnessed by my own mom. her legal birth name contains 5 words, she was the last in our family to get her green card when we first arrived, and the last to naturalize because of it. she immediately changed and shortened her name upon naturalization. ridding Phương from my name felt painful, because it is an homage to my late aunt, because it is a part of my identity as Phương Vy - a vietnamese social custom to refer to someone by both their middle and individual name for identifying purposes because many people have the same individual name. my old friends called me Phương Vy, my teachers called me Phương Vy, the name tags stitched onto my school uniforms bore that name for years, and most importantly, i knew myself as Phương Vy until i was told to become Susan because it was easier for americans to pronounce. deciding to rid Phương in the legal name change felt like i was shutting away an important part of my identity, but i thought that it was a necessary step in my plan to achieve the American Identity. and so, my name was legally changed, i was no longer Lâm Phương Vy, this is a new chapter for a girl now legally named Susan Vy Lam (*notice the stylistic choice to include/not include accent marks).

i was now proudly able to post pictures of my class schedules and new school ID pictures on sinsta with my new full name blasted (!! i know a lot of people call it finsta but in my locale we referred to it as sinsta - secret insta/sin insta - love word-play). no more fear of accidentally showing my fob name! i was living the american dream! (*using fob - fresh off the boat- here as means of reclaiming the power to the word, both of its negative/pejorative connotation as well as my past rejection of the identity) and at last, i was able to do what i had always dreamt of, an instagram story of my blue american passport with a boarding ticket for Susan Lam tucked in it - destination: viet nam. funny juxtaposition.

20 to 21: đụ má

back to my identity crisis at 20. after 10 years of suppressing my fob identity, i realized that perhaps all those struggles i have gone through may have all been in vain - it has done far too much damage by now that teenage me couldn’t have foreseen. i could barely write and read in vietnamese, i could hardly say a full sentence without using an english word or stuttering while trying to find the correct term. at least my accent was still acceptable. i found my first vietnamese friend in the us at 20, and they were also born in vietnam! for the first time, the piece of me that i have locked away for so long feels seen and recognized. they understood my experiences living there and here. i was still embarrassed to speak vietnamese at the beginning of our friendship, i was barely able say đụ má correctly without sounding americanized. this is hilarious thinking back on this instance because đụ má is a curse word/phrase, yet it is so integral to vietnamese colloquial language, it's the first thing that most people would teach non-vietnamese speakers - it is an essence of the vietnamese identity. i first learned the phrase as a little kindergartener and used to secretly and quietly learn how to say it grammatically and situationally Correct in a corner with my kindergarten friends. i would use đụ má behind adults' backs in elementary school with friends and cousins, along with a plethora of other curse words and phrases to show that i was Cool and Rebellious - đụ má was never foreign to me, until it was. by 20, i haven't used the word verbally for 10 years because i couldn't curse at home nor did i have vietnamese friends. i was disgusted by the sounds i heard when i tried to say it out loud again at 20 - it was so foreign, so american, so việt kiều. similar to how i used to repeat english words until i got the mannerism and accent down, i did the same to đụ má- obsessively repeating the word to myself until i got it Right. and one day, i said it out loud around my viet friends, and i did get it Right, i was so proud of myself.

it's quite funny how much the tables have turned since the time that i left high school 6 years ago until now. now i work with vietnamese youths and adults, speaking, reading, and writing in the language regularly on both conversational and professional levels. i've mc'd 3 years in a row for community tết events wearing áo dài publically. i joke around with my students in vietnamese and correct people on mispronouncing names. i write and speak about my experiences as a vietnamese immigrant without fear. i don't think teenage me could have fathomed how this could've even come about, and neither can i. in my interview 3 years ago for my current job, even though the entirety of the interview was conducted in english, i purposely sabotaged myself and butchered my own accent in a very simple vietnamese test the interviewer has given me because i was embarrassed of sounding too fob. i have a perfectly fluent vietnamese accent yet i forced myself to sound americanized to establish myself as Vietnamese-American, not Vietnamese. because to me, Vietnamese = fob = i'm new to the country = i'm not eloquent/qualified enough for american institutions. i was 21 at the time. i don't think i was able to shred myself of this internalized xenophobia until a year into my work. it is exposure to my culture, people, and language that helped me feel comfortable embracing it again in recent years.

22 to 24: returning to college

at 22, i understood that i was not on track to complete the traditional 4-year college course. june of 2022 came, my once-projected college graduation date, my classmates from high school were graduating college while i'm sitting at home and had dropped out of school for almost a year. their photos flooded my instagram feed - i couldn't bear to look at them because of how shameful i felt. i've always been a good and diligent kid, how could i have gone so far off the path? then i started daydreaming about what i would've worn if i had graduated that june - of course, it HAS to be the white áo dài, absolutely. i HAVE to walk across that stage in a white áo dài.

so for the next 2 years, i revisited my priorities and decided to go back to school after failing classes left and right for a full year and taking another completely off from school to work and reexamine my relationship with education. i struggled to get back on track for school at the beginning, but i buckled up and got serious with it. age 23 and currently the beginning of 24 is hell, i work and go to school full time, simultaneously. if i wasn't doing in-person work, my butt is glued to the computer chair. tuesdays and thursdays i am working in person all day; monday, wednesday, and friday mornings until 5 were preserved for meetings, writing emails, obsessively checking teams messages, and work projects/assignments. down time during the work days are used for homework, but after 5 until night is strictly homework time. i often skip meals, most days barely getting enough nutrients to fuel myself, and is often highly disappointed and upset at myself for not being productive enough on school work. i hate it, i'm highly critical of my own performance, seeing my self-worth reflected only in my level of productivity and my on-trackness to graduation; i barely see the world outside aside from time spent commuting to and from work or solely for work purposes; i don't have time to see my friends, and I'm getting sick of only spending time at home that i become unreasonably agitated with my parents. i cry all the time and is always angry, frustrated, hopeless, disappointed, exhausted. i would go for a few days without showering and weeks without washing my hair because as soon as i shut off the computer, i'm too tired to take care of myself. i keep asking myself: who am i doing this for? i became resentful of my parents for immigrating and placing me into this predicament. they say i would have had no future if we had stayed in viet nam, that i am receiving world-class education because we got the opportunity to immigrate, but instructors of my so-called world-class education see my country of origin as nothing but a case study of an undeveloped country. i became resentful of my parents for not exposing me to the local vietnamese community and thwarted me into schools where vietnamese kids can be counted using ten fingers, and i am envious of my own students who have been able to participate in an immersion vietnamese dual language program since elementary school that my schools did not have. i became resentful of my parents for not being equipped with the academic language and familiarity with higher education to support me in school. i became resentful of my parents for telling my elementary school 14 years ago that i would go by the name Susan when i didn't choose that name for myself. in reality, these resentments are wrongly directed to them solely because i have no idea where i should be directing them. they did all that was within their ability to provide me a(n objectively) good/better future and protect me from persecution of american society. i often think about what life would have been like if i had stayed in viet nam, would i really have had no future? is my education really world-class when there is clearly an order of world-classness levels among universities and degrees? i resented my parents for not knowing enough about the convoluted reality of america that i, myself, barely have a grasp on it. and so i set my ill-directed resentments aside and abide by the hopes and dreams of all immigrant families: be a first-generation college graduate.

i still struggle to define where i fall in the Vietnamese-American spectrum. lately, i find myself feeling envious when i see tiktoks of vietnamese people living in viet nam, imagining them as myself, living in the sài gòn concrete jungle that i love, not in some neck of the woods in oregon. maybe that's why i love visiting nyc because its crampiness and vibrancy remind me of the home that i once knew. but the gap is too wide, i cannot be them anymore, i am too distanced from the country and the culture today, all i know about viet nam is left in 2010, anything beyond that is from the perspective of a visitor. all i could do now is come to terms with the fact that i am now a Vietnamese-American, living in diaspora and constantly searching for enclaves of my own culture for a reminder of my own identity. i fought so hard to be seen as Vietnamese-American the first 10 or so years of my life here, yet now i seem to strongly reject this identity. i am not Vietnamese enough for the people of my homeland, i am not american enough for America.

i don't have a conclusion to this giant free-write essay that i just conjured up - in fact, a conclusion is not necessary because this isn't the end. i'm not finished in this journey of self-identity and struggling to find my own self living in diaspora. maybe one day i'll have an answer, maybe one day everything will be much clearer to understand. maybe i could just turn all of these thoughts off and stop overanalyzing everything, but i can't. and so, i will continue to wrestle with these conflicting feelings, and perhaps, one day i will be Free.

-s

#entries

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aerequets · 3 years ago

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can you give me some webtoon recommendations? name some of your favorites! :)

i am here to answer folks 😎

all of these webtoons can be found on webtoons.com! I'm not sure about the whole daily pass thing they've got going on (which sucks tbh) but like,,, you could probably find it online illegally. NOT THAT I CONDONE ILLEGAL ACTIVITY HAHAHAHA ᵖˢˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ

I'll split these up between completed and in progress :) most are still in progress though

COMPLETED

1) Gourmet Hound (166 chapters)

this is like, my all time favorite webtoon. it follows Lucy and her quest to find all the chefs that left her favorite restaurant, Dimanche! it’s a really heartfelt story and the food illustrations make you really hungry, so make sure you have a snack before you sit down to read it. each character’s name is also food-related, so that’s pretty cool too! and the diversity in this webtoon is AMAZING. it’s the only webtoon i’ve ever read that has a hijabi character in the main cast. the development is done really well and it explores themes of loving and letting go. all in all, it has a bit of everything. i personally love food-related things, and this centers around it, so i was set LOL

(also a bonus is that this webtoon has NOT succumbed to daily pass hell, so you can binge read the whole thing. legally.)

2) Hooky (200 chapters)

if you like stories of witches, this is the one! the summary and beginning chapters are deceptively lighthearted. DO NOT BE FOOLED! the story really develops further on and explores numerous conflicts, a big one being (if i remember correctly) witch vs. nonwitch. if you like to see struggles between two sides, not a good-and-evil but just people-who-want-the-best-for-themselves-and-their-loved-ones type of thing, this is good for that. also, sibling love! the two main characters are Dani and Dorian, and while there is someee romance, i like how this story centers around the siblings first and foremost. ALSO THE ART??? I LOVE HOW THE AUTHOR DRAWS SETTINGS SO MUCH and am unabashedly jealous because i am completely incapable of doing so just like,,,, even if the story doesn’t pull you in, you can at least stare at each panel for long stretches of time.

(unfortunately succumbed to daily pass, but you can read it on mangaowl or manganelo!)

3) Spirit Fingers (167 chapters)

aww, this one is cute. Amy is 18 and lacking in self confidence (her family definitely doesn’t help). but HEY she joins a wacky art club!! without her parents knowing!! HECK YEAH!! unfortunately it takes more than joining an art club for her to learn to love herself (it is a long journey after all!). i love this webtoon because it explores the problems of multiple people, not just amy: her high achieving brothers, her mother who had to give up her dream, the different members in the art club, Amy’s girl friends. the art is unique and has a cool watercolor-y texture! and the main couple is just adorable, too. if you’re an artist especially, i recommend this because that’s a big theme and you get to see these characters expand their art styles! which is very cool!

(you can read this one fully on 1stkissmanga)

now here’s where the majority of my recs are:

IN PROGRESS (all can be read on webtoon.com)

1) The Makeup Remover (currently 71 chapters)

i look forward to this every tuesday and friday because oh man!!!!!!!!! idk about you guys, but i am thinking about beauty standards A Large Amount of the time, especially when i consume media. and this webtoon is all about beauty standards (specifically in Korea, but still applicable like. everywhere). Main character Yeseul ends up having to partake in this beauty competition and, with her experiences through it, she begins seeing makeup and beauty standards for the huge role they play in society. i said it already but i LOVE LOVE LOVE this webtoon because it really challenges you as a reader to think about your own perspectives. why do we find the things/people beautiful that we do? what shapes our perception? how much of it is marketing, and how much of it shows in our daily lives? what assumptions do you make about people based on how they look? AGHH im sounding like an essay prompt instead of a reviewer but man. if you like webtoons that examine society through a critical lens (gosh i sound like an english teacher), this is the one.

2) Odd Girl out (currently 261 chapters; on season 2)

okay, first and foremost: if you’re NOT into long winded drama, this probably isn’t it for you. i will admit im not a fan of long problems that get dragged out, especially in a school setting, but i did keep reading this webtoon and i am glad that i did! the character development here is amazing and ONE CRUCIAL THING is that the whole first season (which is many, many chapters. at least over 100) focuses on the friendship between our main 4 girls. if you don’t wanna wait for a romance storyline (which comes in season 2), then you’ve gotta have the patience of a saint. i loved this though because lots of romance webtoons cast friendships aside or use them to further the romantic plot. platonic relationships are great to read about and this one does it masterfully! main character nari is resilient and emotionally strong, and it’s great to see her ruin her enemies

3) Cursed Princess Club (currently 110 chapters; on break before the final season)

this is another one about beauty and societal expectations, but in a fantasy setting! it’s really funny and the cast of characters is heartwarming. Gwen is a princess, but she doesn’t look like the typical princess. she accidentally stumbles upon the Cursed Princess Club, which is exactly what it sounds like: a club for princesses that have been cursed and are trying to find their self worth despite not being conventional princesses! now that i think about it, this is like a lighthearted mixture of Makeup Remover and Spirit Fingers. although while i do say “lighthearted”, this webtoon has its fair share of mysteries and exploration of deeper topics. but its funny throughout

4) Brass & Sass (currently 83 chapters)

ahh this one is really cute and the art is cute, too! i also like how this has a diverse cast. high schooler Camilla kinda sucks at band, but dangit if she’s not passionate. Victor is some type of musical prodigy but he’s a brass-hole (hahaha get it. no that’s not original i ripped it from the summary). now i KNOW I KNOW, the whole “perky girl and asshole guy” is so overplayed BUT DON’T FRET! this isn’t the type of story where the girl “fixes” the guy, or where the guy is an asshole to everyone except the girl. believe me, the character development and relationship development in this story is SPLENDID. there’s no real antagonist. it’s just a bunch of high schoolers trying their best to make themselves and everyone else happy, and that’s hard! the story is carried more by the characters than by the plot, but it works well in this case since the characters are strong and each one has a presence.

5) Surviving Romance (currently 10 chapters)

this one is relatively new compared to my other recs but it’s by the author of the Makeup Remover so yaknow i had to hop on it. BUT IT IS VERY DIFFERENT! first off, it’s a horror, so keep that in mind. the best way i can describe it is a mixture of the standard “girl falls into a story” genre, Groundhog Day, and zombies. Yeah. Bascially, Chaerin is our main girl and she’s in a romance story that’s she’s read a bajillion times, so she knows the day has come for her male lead to confess his love! except he doesn’t! because he becomes a zombie instead! hahaha well that sucks! it’s only got 10 chapters but i am very into it, and it seems to be taking an emphasis on platonic relationships, so i am very closely watching 👁👁

6) The Witch and the Bull (currently 60 chapters)

another witch story! and the art is GORGEOUS. more witch + nonwitch conflict, too! our main dude, Tan, is the royal advisor and he’s hella bigoted against witches. our main girl, Aro, happens to be a witch. and Tan needs her help to make him into a human again (because he got turned into a bull. that is worth mentioning). this is a very barebones summary and there’s a lot more that goes on, but that’s the general gist of the beginning!

ANYWAYS. this got very long, predictably, and i rambled for each title, predictably. i’ve got more that i’m reading, but i really like these 9! i also made comments on the art for a lot of them, which might not matter to some people, but i feel like my art was very impacted by each webtoon i read. if you’re an artist i recommend finding a webtoon you like and studying the art; try implementing parts you like into your own style!

anyways, i am FINALLY done talking. bye yall

#webtoons #my recs

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keichanz · 4 years ago

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Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed's art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

#mistake #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #inukag #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction #papayasha to the rescuuuuue #i deliberately did not tag anybody in this and no i will not say why #and yes i did use sharaku because it sounds like naraku #listen dont fuck with his wife or kid #you will die #if you dont understand that last sentence #tough shit im not explaining it lmao

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bookofmirth · 4 years ago

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i adored this book - i devoured it in one sitting and then began again, however there are so many people on here critising it and straight up hating nesta and her story... and now im starting to think I missed something. can you write about some of the things you loved ? i feel like tumblr can be toxic at times and it’s so frustrating to see people focus on the bad and get angry because nestas story isn’t perhaps what they envisioned, idk it’s just really disheartening and it’s making me second guess myself and see the book in a different light. I don’t know tumblr has always been like this or wether it’s just this series but people are so negative. I remember first creating my account in 2014 and being apart of the Harry Potter and Percy Jackson fandom and it was just brilliant !! It was such a joy to be apart of and create content for. You can critique without bashing completely on the story.

Okay here are some things I loved! I have a lot more I’m sure, but I have 163 highlights in this book and I am merely one fan.

PS I’m pretty sure people are just always like this, but we can try to change the conversation if we want. I’m just glad I’m not in the Star Wars fandom 😅

Obviously, Gwyn. Gwyn and Nesta and Emerie. MAGIC FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS. For me, it wasn’t just the fact that Nesta finally has real friends and we got some cute girl time, it’s that she finally has people she can go to and be herself with. Her family has so much emotional baggage; she will always love her sisters, but they may never be friends like she is with Gwyn and Emerie.

Getting insight into Nesta’s thought process. I don’t know if we’ve gotten into the head of another sjm character quite like this. I think it was absolutely necessary.

That was some hot sex.

We finally didn’t have to see High Lord Rhys being perfect all the time. For me, that was a plus.

Nesta’s journey down the staircase. I 1000% knew that at some point she would make it down those 10k stairs, and that when she did she would want to go right back up. It was such a freeing moment of knowing exactly where she belonged.

Nesta realizes that she can, and likely will, find herself at the bottom of depression and anxiety again. But now, she knows that she will be able to find her way out.

Memerie (Mor/Emerie)

Freaking Gwyn as a character, I want to be her friend!

Nesta making those weapons and then being like *shrug hands them back to Rhys* like WHAT, she has no desire to even pretend she wants to be like a preening high lord. The ultimate fucking power move.

Valkyries! I love that Nesta & Co. carved their own power out of their situation. I think that was really important and nicely done because being kickass is great and all, but if it’s based on someone else’s rules or someone else’s concept of what’s good? No thanks, don’t need it.

Keep reaching out your hand.... okay this is so, so important. This phrase or a variation thereof was repeated several times throughout the book, and it was used really well. It’s what Feyre tried to do for Nesta, what Cassian tried to do, and Amren. And just about everyone around her. And Nesta kept slapping their hands away. Then Nesta had to experience that for herself - extending her hand to the priestesses and dealing with the disappointment that the people she wanted to extend a hand to, didn’t want to take it. She was able to understand what her family and friends had gone through by proxy, and to understand how important, how valuable, it is when someone keeps their hand outstretched anyway.

There were some scenes in there that were devastating in the best way. Every time Nesta heard her father’s last words. What we learned about her mother. The moment she realized that her mother had never loved her the way Feyre loves Nyx. Absolutely gutted me.

Nesta realizing that she is loved.

Nesta’s snark sometimes, “I don’t want to hear about Feyre and her special journey” lmao.

Oh wait EDIT! I forgot to mention that there are really positive parts of this fandom. I promise. I am trying really really hard to promote those bits, because yeah, we can enjoy something while seeing its flaws. I was thinking earlier today, in between classes, about sjm as a cheeto - I can eat the cheeto and know that it's not good for me, but it tastes good and I will eat the whole bag. And I will not feel bad about that.

#acosf #acosf spoilers #spoilers #a court of silver flames #a court of silver flames spoilers #nesta #did I even mention nessian #whoops no #guess that's for another post #acotar #ask #anon

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beomglocks · 4 years ago

Text

argus limited ; k.th

summary : the sweet man on the train is not all that he seems or you meet taehyun on a train and he flirts with you until you realize what he’s really up to

pairing : gangleader!taehyun x reader

warnings & other : this was a dream i had, i literally just typed this all up so sorry if there’s mistakes, mention of blood

w/c : 1.7K

the train is quiet save for the clinking of glasses, hushed conversations, and the metal gears of the train churning every so often.

you look outside at the snowy mountains and landscape. it makes you feel out of place since you're sitting inside a cozy wooden booth with your most elegant attire on.

it was somewhat mandatory for guests of the argus limited to be dressed accordingly since this train was very exclusive and reserved for wealthy people only. you're lucky yeonjun managed to get you a train ticket to go visit him in argus.

you hadn't even known he was staying there until he had brought you a ticket and sent it to your phone. the only message along with it being a simple, "hey baby im back! come visit me ;)" cheeky bastard.

you fiddle with your fingers, having nothing better to do on this incredibly long train ride. argus was miles away from your hometown so the journey took several hours and the train ride had just started around 2 hours ago. since you had to go through several different terrains it wasn't like your cellphone had much use seeing as there was no reception.

"excuse me miss?" you hear someone say. you tear your eyes away from the snowy desert to see a very handsome man. he had a piercing gaze and stark blonde hair. he was wearing a suit that screamed wealth and had an intimidating aura.

"do you mind if i join you?" he says as he takes a seat anyway. you sigh, looking back towards the frosty window. the guy doesn't speak for a while but you can tell he's watching you. you don't pay him any mind, not too interested with partaking in conversation.

he clears his throat, "what's a pretty woman like you doing all alone on a train like this?" you let out a silent laugh at his attempt at flirting. you don't answer his question, simply humming with a smile on your face.

"where might this pretty lady be headed towards?" he tries again.

you decide to humor him for the time being. it's not like you've got much else to do on this train. "im headed to argus," you answer. he grins at hearing your voice.

"argus? meeting someone?"

"yes, i am," you smile.

"a boyfriend?" he asks, more and more intrigued by you by the second. you raise your eyebrow at him. "i'll let you speculate that," you decide to tease.

he chuckles, satisfied with your answer. "where are you headed?" you ask him, feeling like it's only fair to know about him as well. he subtly darts his eyes around the train before answering, "just beyond argus actually."

"from your attire, im guessing business reasons?" you say. he smiles, showing off his pearly teeth, "i'll let you speculate that."

he waves his hand to let the waiter know to come to your booth. "bring your finest wine," the man demands. the waiter nods and goes off.

"you drink?" you ask. you look him over once again. he does seem like the powerful businessman type so you wouldn't be surprised if he did. "only when im around pretty women," he says smoothly. you roll your eyes at his flirtatious remark, "you must be a drunkard then."

"i'm quite the nephalist actually," he crosses his arms on the table, looking at you. "so why the wine if you don't like to drink?" you deadpan.

"well im rarely ever around pretty women like you," he shrugs. the wine comes to your table and you can tell it's very expensive just from looking at it. you let the waiter pour both your glasses before speaking up again.

"what, you don't hire women at your company?" you don't know why you ask him this but you do. you're interested by this mysterious man and if he's going to be accompanying you for the rest of the train ride then you might as well learn more about him while you can.

"my company?" he laughs lightly taking a sip of the wine. "i do...though they're not the classiest." he hums looking at his cup. you sigh, not really caring to look into the specifications of what he's talking about. "what's your name anyways?" you ask.

he smiles again, "taehyun." you nod off looking back outside. "mine is y/n."

taehyun chuckles, "can i assume that's your real name?" you look back at him with an eyebrow raised. "why would i use a fake name?"

he nods with a smile on his face and his hands up in a defensive manner. "in my company that's what we do. i trust you with my real name though."

you frown, looking away. you're starting to get weird vibes from taehyun. he hasn't done anything weird per se however you get the feeling that he's a sketchy man.

you start to hear footsteps approach your table and when you look up you see a tall man with dark hair standing next to taehyun. he looks at you then at taehyun and leans down to whisper in his ear. taehyun stares at you the whole time while he listens to whatever is being said to him.

"ah i see," he says out loud. the man stands straight again and bows to you awkwardly and walks away. "looks like this," he gestures between you both. "has to be cut short."

"is something wrong?" you take a sip of the wine and swirl it around the cup, never taking your eyes off him. he fixes his suit and takes another sip of wine. "a minor issue with our luggage." is all he says. he winks at you when he stands up and proceeds to walk away in the same direction as the man.

you take a deep breath when he leaves. you feel like you've been holding it in all this time. taehyun feels like a really intimidating man and you don't know why you feel that way. maybe it's the way he speaks or the way he carries himself. you can't put your finger on it but there's something up with him.

you lean your head on your palm, looking outside again. you really miss yeonjun and you can't wait to see him, the mere thought of being with him again makes you giddy. it's unfortunate you can't call or text him right now but once you get to argus you already know the first thing you're doing with him.

some time passes and once you realize it it's dark outside. the train employees have dimmed the lights of the carts and lit some candles for a more homey feel and you can't lie, you like it. it makes the train feel more elegant than it already is.

you stand up to go back to your room which you're glad yeonjun brought you. there are parts of this train that are merely for everyday train riders and parts that are for people traveling much longer distances. the ones who travel from town to town are able to book rooms and that's exactly what yeonjun did for you.

you rub your eyes a little since the wine made you a bit drowsy but not tired to the point where you would be able to k.o. at the sight of your bed. you bump into someone along the way and quickly apologize for not looking. "y/n," you hear taehyun's voice. you look up and sure enough there he is.

you suddenly feel cramped in this small corridor. the corridor is only meant for one person at a time to get to their rooms however you and taehyun are standing face to face and your back is against someone else's door.

"oh taehyun, i was just about to go back to my room." you don't point in which direction because frankly, you don't want him to know where you'll be staying for the rest of the night. he places his hands at your waist and you're about to tell him to get his hands off you when he speaks up, "already? the night's still young," he laughs heartily.

you laugh dryly already feeling uncomfortable with his presence. "yeah well.." you trail off when you see something on his suit jacket. "what's that?"

you point at a red mark on his suit and he follows your gaze with a frown. he wipes it with his finger and inspects it as if he's clueless as to what the red substance could be too. "that's odd..im not sure," he says. he wipes it away and looks at you with a weird gaze, quietly telling you to drop it.

if you were feeling uncomfortable before, well you're certainly feeling unsettled now. you clear your throat and wiggle away from his light grasp on your waist. "well taehyun, it was nice seeing you again. im going to sleep so i guess i'll be seeing you for the last time when the train stops at argus?" you smile trying to draw away any tension.

he nods off, "right, i'll be seeing you off for argus in a couple of hours." he places his hand on his neck and cracks it, you flinch involuntarily and hope he doesn't notice.

it's silent for a moment, just like earlier. the only sounds being glasses clinking, hushed conversations, and the trains gears churning.

"sleep tight y/n," he finishes the conversation with an easy smile. you smile back and walk off towards your room. once you step in, you breathe heavily as if you'd just been drowned and came back for air. what's with that guy? now you really can't wait to get off this train.

you sit on your bed and think back to the interaction you just had. that red mark was definitely blood. it was too dark to be the wine you both were just drinking otherwise you would've pointed it out earlier. was he bleeding or was it from something or someone else?

you really don't want to dwell on it for much longer or else you'll force yourself to dig deeper into just who this taehyun is. for now, you simply let yourself take a nap for the rest of the journey to argus. you don't even let yourself dream of the strange man. you dream of seeing your boyfriend after months of waiting and finally getting to be with him.

and you don't even realize the hushed voices coming from just outside your door.

#taehyun imagines #taehyun reactions #taehyun drabbles #taehyun drabble #txt imagines #drabble #tomorrow x together imagines #txt headcanons #taehyun headcanons #txt reactions #txt scenarios #taehyun timestamps #taehyun fic #taehyun x reader #taehyun angst #taehyun fluff

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questionablygourmet · 3 years ago

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hello! im not sure if anyone has asked this, as ive typed several keywords and searched it in your blog but i couldnt find it so here i am. i want to ask about your interpretation of will’s mindset or what he thinks of atm when he initiates the fall and what do you think the most plausible way s4 happens? ive seen people say they go all murder husbands, ive seen those who say it’s a slow journey bcs of will himself still feel conflicted about murder (hence the fall)? thank you so much!

Heya! This subject is one I've touched on before but never been asked about directly, I don't think.

One of the most consistent aspects of Will's characterization is that when it comes to Big Decisions, he tends to make them in the heat of the moment, rather than based on any careful deliberations. There's an aphorism that says "no plan survives contact with the enemy" (D&D variation: no plan survives contact with the player characters), and certainly in Will's case no plan survives contact with Hannibal Lecter.

I think it's fairly uncontroversial to say that Will goes into the final showdown with Dolarhyde being prepared to die. We also have seen repeatedly that he has a hard time killing Hannibal even when he both wants to and has the opportunity to do so - when push comes to shove, he just doesn't do it (specifically, in Hannibal's kitchen in Yakimono and at the pigpen in Tome-Wan, also arguably in the Hobbs house in Releves).

We also know Will's moral compass is not exactly fixed on true north, even in s3b, as he's willing to sacrifice a whole police caravan to Dolarhyde to set his own terms for this showdown.

All these things in mind, where I end up regarding the culmination of TWOTL is that Will is feeling Way Too Many Things at once, and still has a lot of internal voices that are loudly objecting to how he feels about having shared the experience of killing Dolarhyde with Hannibal. Meanwhile, from a more meta point of view, I'm reminded of something Bedelia says to Hannibal earlier in the season - "You no longer have ethical concerns; you have aesthetical ones." I think it would be entirely reasonable to at least in part view Will's own character arc as one of a battle between ethics and aesthetics - the foundation of his intimacy with Hannibal, is, after all, his ability to understand Hannibal's mindset, Hannibal's design, which is fundamentally based on aesthetic sensibilities.

Anyway, point being, Will still has all these conflicting influences going on, and there's a convenient cliff right there. It makes for an aesthetically tidy ending, and he doesn't have to suffer a world without Hannibal in it if they both go out together. It's also possibly the only way he has left to avoid going even farther down the corruption rabbit hole, personally.

(I hope all that makes sense. It feels like something I could write about for days, but lately I'm just glad to get anything coherent on a page.)

As for season 4... it really makes a difference to me whether you mean "how do I see these characters realistically moving on from the s3 finale?" or "how would I expect an actual fourth season of the TV show to handle it?" Because those aren't the same thing at all. Based on what things Bryan Fuller has said about his envisioned s4, it sounds (to me) like he was planning on some role-reversal mindfuck thing where Will's manipulating Hannibal to hell and back, though to what end, I have no idea. (If this interpretation of his commentary is correct, I hold to the unpopular opinion that the show's close to perfect as it is and doesn't need any more. :P) But my personal favorite interpretation of how things go after TWOTL, based on a combination of my understanding of the characters and general fandom optimism, is that it becomes sort of a.... "Okay, I gave God a blank check to kill us, and he didn't take it, so I guess this means I've got to deal with how I feel about you, now," on Will's part.

But honestly, just based on who the characters are and how fucked up their relationship is, I could see just about anything happening after the fall as plausible. Which is part of why the fic landscape in this fandom is as vibrant as it is!

#hannibal #the wrath of the lamb #hannigram #meta #my meta #replies #Anonymous #i hope this sufficiently answered the question but if it did not feel free to follow up

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years ago

Text

through the green glass door (*) loki laufeyson x reader

+++++++++ Guess who watched the first Thor movie 😁😁

(*) - leads to smut but it doesnt go all the way. but like, its super suggestive lol

Song: lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off by panic at the disco

@cynic-spirit +++++++++

"do you have any idea what the consequences will be if i get caught?!"

i exclaimed as quietly as possible, my three friends giggling as they huddled around me.

"y/n, youre the most agile person we know. and we've all been dreaming of the fruit off that tree for ages. please."

Lenore said and i rolled my eyes.

"if i get caught im taking you three down with me."

i said, gripping the tree bark on the outside portion of the wall.

"we believe in you."

she said as i began climbing. i couldnt believe id let them talk me into this. but they were right, we had all been wanting the fruit off this tree for a very long time. it was forbidden to any outside the palace walls. something none of us had ever or would ever have the pleasure of enjoying. until now i suppose.

"im at the top."

i called back down to them still on the ground. they all cheered and clapped, jumping up and down as they giggled. but i wasnt triumphant just yet. i could see the tree, barely touching the branches of the one i was in. just over the garden wall.

"youve got this."

i whispered to myself, stepping as lightly as i possibly could towards the wall. there was a creaking and i paused, taking a deep breath. it was fine. this was fine. so i kept going, jumping onto the top of the garden wall as the edge of the branch snapped. i took a staggered breath, still hidden within lots of leaves. but there, like a light in the distance i could see the golden fruit. i plucked one off the branch, its smell as it got closer becoming sweeter and sweeter.

then i saw another, plucking it too and tossing both to the ground below. there i saw the three of them, rushing over and picking them up. i grabbed another that was close enough to reach and dropped it down, so each of them could have one of their own. they all celebrated with happy noises of content as they devoured them. as i looked back up to grab another fruit i noticed there were none left nearer to me.

"drat."

i complained, seeing one of the golden fruits just past the wall, barely out of reach. i knew i shouldn't be greedy but i went through all this trouble, it would be a shame to not have one for myself. so i stepped further, to the edge of the wall. i found a branch sturdy enough and planted my foot on it. i took one step, then another, and so on until i was nearing the trunk of the tree and the fruit i had seen from the wall.

"finally."

i whispered, plucking it off the branch and sinking my teeth into it. it was just as sweet as it smelled and i was glad i had continued on my journey over the wall. that was at least until i took one wrong step, another branch breaking under me. then it was one branch after another, falling straight on my face in the grass below the tree. i groaned, lifting my head and my eyes going wide. there in front of me was a pair of black leather boots.

"um, i can explain."

i started, looking up and pausing again. there in front of me was the young prince, holding a book in one hand and a pear in the other, looking just as surprised to see me as i was to see him.

"im sure thats one hel of an explanation having dropped from the sky."

he stated and i moved to my knees quickly, bowing in front of him.

"yes, my prince. i am truly sorry."

he laughed and i looked at him confused.

"please, stand."

he said and i did as told, bowing my head.

"i have not seen you before."

"my prince?"

i raised a brow, watching him as he leaned against the tree.

"where do you come from?"

i cleared my throat.

"outside the palace my prince."

he laughed again.

"do you think me an idiot?"

he asked and i stopped breathing.

"of course not, how could you? you are but a peasant."

then i drew my brows.

"now you wait just a minute! i may not be of noble birth but that does not mean you will disrespect me. arrest me, for all i care, but i will not be spoken to like a-"

"relax."

he said and i stopped.

"relax?!"

he shook his head.

"what is your name?"

i opened and closed my mouth a couple times. then i inhaled sharply.

"y/n."

he stood off the tree, tucked the book under his arm, and offered me his hand.

"well y/n, i am of the impression that you are in need of a new dress."

i looked at him funny before looking down at my outfit. i was dirty and my skirt had torn when i fell out of the tree.

"you arent going to arrest me?"

i asked hesitantly and he smiled.

"i am not."

he said and i slowly took his hand.

"my prince i, i dont believe-"

"you dont need to believe, just trust me."

he said and i nodded. i followed him blindly inside, walking openly past the guards up the stairs and down a long glimmering hallway. it didnt necessarily feel right, but something about him made me want to keep walking. to keep following him.

"my prince-"

"call me loki."

he interrupted.

"um, loki, right. uh where are we going?"

he squeezed my hand before pulling me into a room.

"my chambers."

he said and i froze, the door closing behind us. then out of nowhere a woman appeared, bowing her head.

"bring us one of my mothers old dresses. my guest is in need of some new clothes."

he said in a suave tone, the woman walking past me and out the door.

"i dare say, my prince, i am not worthy of wearing the queens garb."

he looked at me and smiled, pulling a chair out from under a small golden table and sitting at it.

"i think she would disagree."

i smiled back in amusement and joined him at the table.

"why are you being so nice to me?"

i asked and watched as he took a drink.

"it has been a long time since someone has been able to get over garden wall and not get caught. i admire that."

i raised a brow.

"so you like that im mischievous?"

i questioned and he smirked.

"exactly."

i made a small noise of disbelief.

"i should have guessed. the midgaurdians call you, what, the god of mischief? it only makes sense you would like someone sneaking into the palace garden."

"my lord."

i heard from the door and both our gaze turned to the girl, holding a blue dress.

"ah yes, a perfect choice."

i watched as he took it from her, shooing her away afterwards. and then he started towards me, making me more curious.

"for the lady."

he said, offering it to me and i smirked at him.

"care to help me put it on?"

i made a face, realizing what i had just asked and almost couldnt believe myself for being so bold. but part of me also didnt regret it. and i couldnt help notice the knowing smile across his face as he led me to his bed. there he laid the dress out and moved to help me.

"a bit intrepid for someone who believed me to want to arrest them."

i looked over his face for a moment.

"theres something about you i cant get off of my mind."

"and that is?"

he asked, stepping behind me and undoing the top op my dress slowly. i just stood and stared ahead as he did so.

"though i know we could both be in large amounts of trouble with the king if he were to find out i am here, i still feel like i can trust you."

i said, looking at him over my shoulder and we both examined each other. his face was soft. softer than before. and the golden light peaking in over the terrace railing made him look more ethereal.

"i can trust you, cant i?"

i asked and his gaze shifted down my face.

"you can trust this."

he said calmly before capturing my lips in his. it was gentle and i could feel my heart knocking a my rib cage to be let out. i was kissing the boy prince. the heir apparent. and gods did it feel great.

"loki."

i whispered when he pulled away, looking between his eyes for any reason not to trust him and coming up with nothing.

"do you still wish for my help?"

he bargained and i nodded.

"i wouldnt want anything else."

it was said in such a hushed tone im sure no one else would have been able to hear it had they been in the room. i stood there as he stripped me slowly. He began with finishing the top of my dress, letting the lacing down and pushing the fabric down off my shoulders. as the dress pooled at my ankles i was left there in my sark, a small shiver traveling up my spine as his fingers traced up my arm.

"may i?"

he asked, placing his other hand firmly at my waist, tugging at the fabric. i swallowed hard, almost feeling like i shouldnt be doing this.

"yes."

i said quiet and bold.

"you are quite the woman."

he noted, pulling the sark up over my head and dropping it to the floor with my dress. i should have felt more exposed standing there naked but my back was still to him.

"Thank you my prince."

I said with some form of sincerity. He kissed my shoulder.

"I told you, call me Loki."

He whispered into my ear, sending goosebumps over my skin.

"Loki."

I half moaned, leaning back into him as his hands found their way to my hips again.

"May I touch you further?"

He questioned and I nodded against him, feeling his hand trail up my torso painfully slow. He kissed across my shoulder, up my neck, and onto my jaw before spinning me around swiftly. I gasped at the sudden movement, looking over his face as he stepped closer to kiss me properly. When he pulled away I noticed his clothes had also vanished, gone in a flash of green.

"May I make love to you?"

He asked, barely gracing my lips with his own.

"Please do."

I whispered against him before kissing him, again and again, until my back hit the soft silk of his bedding.

#wattpad #x reader #Loki Laufeyson #marverl #imagines #one shots #342 #loki #smut?#idk not really but kinda #smut

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hyuniepot · 4 years ago

Text

the butterfly effect. || chapter 6

chapter word count || 5,372

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

taglist || @gothboyjisung @jeongyoonohs @doiewonu @huanginjoon @wordsgodeep @colpen

previous chapter

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

When you were done, you checked your phone.

Mark

hey, when do u wanna hang out?

you can come over here if u want.

or whatever. its fine

oh, you probably aren’t awake yet….

lol. let me know when ur awake.

You smile.

You

hey im awake now

i can come over to ur place, is any time fine?

i just gotta get ready and stuff

You set your phone down and look at yourself in the mirror, continuing to dry your hair. You know you still had to make your final decision on whether you were going to leave or not. Your mind couldn’t make a decision. There were pros and cons to doing both.

If you were to go back, you’d return to a life with no Mark and a Jisung who isn’t happy. But you’d have Hyuck. You’d have Jaemin, and Jeno and Renjun. You’d have your old friends back. You could use what you learned here to fix your life.

But Mark. He was the only thing stopping you. You wanted to take him along with you but you knew it was impossible. You just couldn’t imagine leaving him again when you had spent so long yearning for him to be back.

You jump at the sound of your phone dinging.

Mark

yea, come on over. i’ll be here all day hahah

You

got it. i’ll be there soon

You then clicked on Hyuck’s name to text him.

You

i know this is annoying but please give me the time i need. i’ll let you know tonight what my decision is.

You turned your phone off, grabbing your camera and putting it in your new bag. Jisung was in his room so you gently knock and wait for a response.

Jisung opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond. “I’m gonna go to Mark’s today, are you gonna be okay here alone?”

Your mother’s workload had definitely decreased, but she still worked long hours. You only got to see her in the mornings before school.

Jisung nods. “Yep, that’s fine.”

“Okay.” you exhale. “I’ll see you later, then.”

He nods, and you turn away and head downstairs. You make your way outside and start your journey to Mark’s house. Luckily, you had gone there once since you showed up, so you knew your way.

Everything was still so familiar. Of course it was; this was the town you grew up in after all. And that’s why it was so hard to differentiate from your old life sometimes. Everything still felt right at times.

You were glad Mark didn’t live too far away. You spotted him outside, sitting on one of the concrete stairs that lead to the porch. His face lights up when he spots you, getting up and making his way to you.

“What’s up?” he smiles.

“Nothing,” you reply. “What’s the plan for today?” you both continue making your way to his house.

“I don’t have anything planned, really…” he says, scratching his head. “We just chill for a bit and then figure out something if you want.”

You nod, going up the stairs to his porch. He opens the door, letting you in. You follow him up to his room, suddenly feeling nervous. You hadn’t been alone with Mark like this. You barely even knew how to be around him without feeling awestruck.

He opens the door to his room and it hits you. It was so perfectly… him. It was just what you expected, what you always imagined it would look like. An acoustic guitar stood in the corner of his room, bed haphazardly made. A record player was set up on the left side, the records he owned displayed on a nearby shelf. Posters of all different subjects were taped on the wall, some personal photos mixed in. You spotted one of you and Mark as children, one of the photos you always looked at when you missed him.

It hurt to look at everything. But you had to force your emotions aside.

“Yeah, had to switch up the old room,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I think this looks way cooler.”

You nod. “It looks great.” your voice is barely audible. You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos on the wall.

“Oh,” Mark notices you staring at the wall. He walks to where his bed is, squatting down and pulling a book out from under it. “I found a whole photo album of old photos.” he says. He motions you to come sit down next to him, and you oblige.

He opens it. The first few pages were photos of him as a baby, but it quickly changed to photos of him as a kid. It didn’t take long for you to appear. You had seen them all before, but it was still nice to look at them. There were even pictures from your trip to the butterfly enclosure, an unsure look plastered across your face. Mark was beaming.

“Do you remember this?” Mark puts his finger on an old photo of you and him at a fair — huge grins on both of your faces. He laughs. “We rode a ride and I swore I was gonna get sick after it. You were so freaked out by it that you avoided me until I convinced you I felt better.”

You laugh. You did remember it. You remembered running away from him and staying at least 10 feet away until you finally gave in.

He turns a few pages. It was time to look at photos that you had never seen, stories that you had never heard, the things that could have been. You just tried to keep your breathing steady.

There’s a picture of you and him together in somewhat formal clothing — probably your first highschool dance. Hyuck and another boy you didn’t recognize stood behind you, giving both you and Mark bunny ears.

“You remember Johnny, right?”

That must have been the other boy. You just nodded. Of course, you had no idea who he was.

“He moved here when we were like 12, right?” he looks at the photo. “I miss him. I don’t get to talk to him a lot because he travels so he’s always in a different timezone but… when I do, it’s like he never left.” he adds.

You wrack your brain — did you ever know anyone named Johnny? You were sure you didn’t. He didn’t exist in your old life. But he had somehow been a part of your life in this universe at some point. He was visibly older — not by too much, but he was definitely more mature. It didn’t help that Mark had a baby face. He had brown, medium length hair that was kind of shaggy. He seemed charming. But since there was no sign of him in your phone, you assumed you didn’t keep in touch with him.

Mark flips the pages a few more times. There’s a picture of you, Mark, and Hyuck on what seemed to be your last halloween together. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when, but you were probably 14 or 15. You were dressed up as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Hyuck was dressed as the beast and Mark was dressed as Lumière, the candlestick.

You look at the girl in those photos. You wished you had her brain; You wished you remembered everything the way she did. Looking at yourself in the photos didn’t feel right. No matter what you did, you couldn’t convince yourself that it was you. Because technically, it wasn’t. Where was that girl now? Was she living your old life? Spending her days with Jaemin, desperately wishing for Mark?

“Are you okay?” you snap back to reality at the sound of Mark’s voice. He had closed the book and was looking at you with a concerned look on his face.

You let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh… yeah. I’m fine… I just kinda zoned out.”

“Yeah… you’ve been doing that a lot lately…” Mark stands up and slides the book back under his bed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You don’t want to reply. Your eyes start burning with tears.

“Yeah,” you reply softly.

“That’s why I wanted to hang out with you today. You’ve seemed so… off lately… No offense,” Mark sits back down and looks at you. “I don’t mean that in a mean way, I just mean… it seems like something is bothering you and… are you crying?”

Tears finally escape your eyes, cascading down your cheeks. You stay silent as Mark wraps his arms around you, tightly hugging you.

“Oh god, oh no… I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” Mark says.

You can’t help but smile as you cry into his chest. “No… it’s not your fault…”

He pulls away from the hug. “Is something actually wrong? You know you can talk to me… I heard bottling up your emotions isn’t healthy…”

You take your time collecting yourself to try and think of an excuse. Obviously you couldn’t tell him the real reason why you seemed so out of it -- oh yeah, Mark, I’m from a universe where you died and I ended up here because I used some app to wish for you back and I have literally no idea what’s going on half the time.

“I’m just stressed,” you tell him. “I’ve never been this stressed so I don’t really know how to deal with it.”

“Ah…” Mark nods. “I get it… I mean, we’re in our last year of school. Everyone’s gonna expect us to act like adults soon. It’s… scary.”

You nod, wiping your tears. I wish that was what I was stressed about.

And that’s when it clicks. You realize you don’t belong here. You were destined to live in a world without Mark. But that thought only makes you start crying again.

Mark hugs you again. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just let it out, okay?”

So you do. You let everything out. Your shoulders shake as you sob. To anyone, it would seem like you’re overreacting. Sobbing in your best friend’s arms because you’re stressed. But this was the one thing you felt like could make you feel better.

For years, you laid in your bed alone, sobbing because you missed Mark. Because you felt guilty. And if you weren’t crying over him, you wished he was there to comfort you. And now it finally happened, and you were gonna relish the moment. This was all you ever wanted.

You feel guilty — Mark just wanted to hang out and here you were, making him comfort you as you cried for God knows what.

You force yourself to stop crying. Mark lets you go and levels himself with you, wiping your face with his thumb. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “We’re best friends… you can tell me anything, y’know?”

You nod. “I know… I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Mark furrows his brows. “Hey come on, don’t say that. You wouldn’t be bothering anyone. Don’t think like that.”

You hiccup. You could feel that your face was puffy from crying.

“Okay,” Mark stands up. “I think this calls for some relaxation, right? I’m gonna get a bunch of blankets and we’re just gonna lounge.” He grabs a spare blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, helping you stand up. He leads you to his basement. There was a large couch and a TV. You sit down.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Mark turns the TV on. “Okay. I’ll find something for us to watch. Get comfortable, okay?”

You scoot around for a bit before finding a comfortable spot. The crying you did made your eyelids heavy.

Mark joins you on the couch, clicking through the TV guide, searching for something to watch. He clicks on a movie before opening his arms. “Come here.”

Maybe it wasn’t right, but you let him hold you. You listen to his heartbeat, trying to keep yourself awake until you couldn’t fight it anymore.

[4:27 p.m.]

Your eyes flutter open. You glance around, taking in your surroundings and remembering you were in Mark’s basement. You realize you were still in his arms. You quickly sit up, making Mark jolt awake.

“Oh shit,” he says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Did we both fall asleep?” he chuckles.

You smile. “Yeah… looks like it.” You stretch your muscles. “Did you get to watch any of movie?”

“Nope.” Mark replies. “I think I fell asleep right after I realized you had,” he says softly.

You groan. “What time is it? We didn’t sleep through the day, did we?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

Mark pulls out his phone to check the time. He shakes his head. “Nope. Only about two and a half hours.”

You sigh in relief. It was still a long time, but at least it was still daytime. “Oh, good.”

“Do you wanna go get some food? We should probably get up so we don’t fall asleep again,” he laughs.

You smile. “Good idea.”

You both make your way upstairs and you retrieve your bag from Mark’s room before leaving the house. The weather, like yesterday, was nice. A light breeze blew, but it wasn’t cold thanks to the sun. You could hear children playing in a yard nearby. You and Mark made your way to a restaurant nearby. It was one that you didn’t recognize. It was a bit retro-themed and was decorated like a classic diner.

You and Mark sit down at a booth, looking at the menu. “We haven’t been to this place in forever… they got a bunch of new menu items.” Mark mumbles.

You look at the menu. It had all kinds of different types of burgers, but most importantly, milkshakes.

Mark gasped. “They got rid of the cookies ‘n cream milkshake? Are you kidding me?” he whines.

You laugh. “Really? That has to be a popular flavor.”

“Right? It’s so good too, I order it everytime. So why would they — oh, nevermind… they just rebranded it…” Mark says softly, hiding his face with the menu.

Your eyes find their way to the milkshakes; they had simply changed the name of the milkshake from Cookies ‘N Cream to Oreo. You giggle. “Dork.”

“Hey, come on! I was panicked, alright?” Mark laughs.

A waitress swings by and takes your orders — you just order a classic burger and fries with a milkshake with your favorite ice cream flavor.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out to see who’s calling. It’s Hyuck. “Um,” you swallow hard. “I’m gonna go wash my hands real quick.” you tell Mark.

He nods. “Alright.”

You get up from the booth and quickly walk to the bathroom. You close the door behind you, praying that it was empty. “Hello?”

“God, took you long enough.” Hyuck mutters.

“Why’d you call?” you sigh.

“Because I think we need to actually talk about this… I mean, if you decide to leave, I need to be able to tell you when to send the message.” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “I told you I would let you know later. I’m with Mark right now.”

“Are you serious?”

You pause. It’s deathly quiet. You can feel Hyuck’s anger through the phone. “He wanted to hang out, he asked me last night when he dropped me off… did you really think I’d say no?”

“You should’ve,” he sighs. “You know you’re only making it harder on yourself.”

You knew he was right. “I just… wanted to make some final memories before possibly leaving,” you tell him.

“I… understand.” Hyuck adds quietly. You hear him sigh. “You know this is hard on me too, right? I’m sorry I keep being so pushy but… I just wanna get out of here.”

It’s silent again. For the first time, you realize you never even thought about how Hyuck felt. You knew he missed Mark just as much as you did.

“That’s why I’ve been kinda distancing myself from him. Because the first day we were here, it was hell. All I could think about was that day… it’s all I can think about.” he says. You can barely hear him.

“Hyuck…” you whisper.

“Being here… with him… it’s too much for me to handle. You don’t think I feel the same way? I know this is a universe where we could both be happy with Mark, but something keeps telling me I can’t stay here. Too much has changed. I can’t be comfortable here.” Hyuck’s voice starts trembling. “Which is why I refused to spend any time with Mark. Because he’s the only reason I want to stay. But I miss my old life. I miss my friends. I don’t know what the hell went wrong here, but my life is just so much shittier here. Everything that could’ve gone wrong feels like it went wrong.” he rants.

You feel so much guilt for not taking the time to think about why he’d want to leave. You spent so much time thinking about yourself and Mark because you knew you’d always have Hyuck.

“Not even Mark makes staying worth it.” he spits. You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad; it’s probably both. “We were so stupid for coming here,” he finally chuckles, although you can tell it isn’t from happiness. “We were so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” you reply softly.

“I’m sorry. Call me later, okay?”

He hangs up before you can say anything. You slowly put your phone down and shove it back into your pocket. You want to cry, but you’ve already spent too much time in here. You rush out of the bathroom, and instantly run into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking up at the person. Your heart almost stops.

“No worries,” Jaemin says, flashing you a polite smile.

Your heart starts pounding. You try to tell yourself to stop staring at him, but this was the first time you’ve seen him since coming here. He doesn’t look too different — hair is darker now but everything is the same. The same eyes you fell in love with. The smile that gave you butterflies in your stomach. He’s dressed in normal clothes, so that meant he was probably eating here alongside you and Mark.

You want to lunge towards him, hugging him so tightly he could never leave you again. But you finally just nodded and forced your legs to walk past him; they had started trembling and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there. You were glad Mark’s back was to you. You sat back down at your seat, your hands now trembling

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You nod. You clear your throat. “Yeah… uh, sorry I took so long. My mom called while I was in there.”

“Oh, okay.” Mark takes a sip of his milkshake that had been set on the table while you were gone. “You’re not in trouble or anything, right?” he asks, eyes widening.

You smile. “No.”

“Okay, good! I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for hanging out with me or something…” Mark says.

You stir your milkshake with your straw. You weren’t feeling very hungry anymore, but after the first sip, it was too delicious to stop.

“(y/n)!” you hear a voice calling your name. You turn your head towards the direction it’s coming from.

Naeun walks to your table. “I didn’t even see you here! What’s up?” she smiles.

“Oh… nothing.” you reply, forcing a smile in return. “Me and Mark are just hanging out and we were hungry, so here we are.” you tell her.

“Of course. Partners in crime. Hi, Mark.” Naeun responds. “Jaemin brought me here. Can you believe I’ve never been here before? This place has been up for years and I’ve never had the chance.” she pouts.

“Really?” Mark speaks up. “You gotta try their milkshakes, they’re delicious.” he tells her.

Naeun chuckles. “Will do. What flavor did you get? It looks good.” she asks.

“Oh! Cookies ‘n cream. It’s my favorite.” he replies, smiling.

“That’s a good flavor.” You hear Jaemin before you see him. Why is he talking about ice cream? He can’t even eat dairy. You think.

“How would you know?” Naeun teases, as if she was a mind reader. “You can’t have ice cream.”

Jaemin enters your line of sight, wrapping an arm around Naeun’s shoulders. It feels like a gunshot to your chest. “Well, I’m not supposed to have it. But these milkshakes make all the pain worth it.” he jokes.

Mark laughs. “He’s right though. How’s it going, Jaemin? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Jaemin grins. “I’m doing good. School has been way harder lately, but…”

“Yeah, I would assume so. I can’t believe you got into that school, no offense…”

Jaemin chuckles. “None taken. I was surprised I got in, too. I just wish they had accepted me earlier so I wouldn’t have had to leave halfway through a school year. But, I come back here and visit almost every weekend, so…”

Watching Mark and Jaemin talk felt weird. You didn’t even know they knew each other. That also answered your question as to why you never saw Jaemin at school. You wonder what school he had been accepted to.

“Oh, how rude of me. Hey, (y/n). How are you?” Jaemin turns his attention to you. “I was gonna talk to you earlier but you ran away from me.” he laughs. “I didn’t even realize it was you until you were gone.”

“Sorry…” you say softly. “Um… I didn’t realize it was you either.”

You can feel Jaemin’s eyes piercing into you. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t.

“Well, I’d love to hang out with you guys, but after we eat I have to drive Jaemin back home… maybe we could all hang out another time? Double dates, maybe?” she says, grinning.

“Date?” Mark asks, furrowing his brows. “I mean… yeah, we can hangout but…” he laughs awkwardly.

“I’m teasing,” she says, glancing at you. “Both of you get so defensive!” she jokes. “Not trying to pressure you guys, but you’d be really cute together.” she presses.

“Okay, Naeun, enough,” Jaemin chuckles. “Mark’s gonna explode if you keep going.”

You look at Mark, whose face was red from embarrassment.

“We’ll see you guys later then,” Naeun says. The couple walk away from your table, Jaemin’s arm still around her. Your throat gets tight.

“Gosh…” Mark giggles. “Sorry. Stuff like that just gets me embarrassed,” he says, shaking his head.

You smile. “It’s okay.”

A waitress comes to the table a few moments later and sets the food you ordered on the table. Your appetite had come back. Seeing the food made you realize how hungry you really were.

Mark takes a bite of his burger. “I swear this place always hits the spot,” he says.

He was right. The food was really good. You were actually kind of mad this restaurant didn’t exist in your universe. It was perfect.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks. It’s so sudden, your first response is to just stare at him with wide eyes.

You swallow your food. “Yeah, why?”

Mark shrugs. “I just wanted to check in. You kinda froze up when Naeun and Jaemin were talking to us.” he says softly.

“Oh…” you set your burger down. “I was feeling kind of awkward because I ran into Jaemin when I left the bathroom. And then I ran away from him,” you laugh.

“Ah,” Mark nods. “I see.”

“Yeah… I’m kind of good at that. Making everything awkward.” you chuckle.

“Oh, shush.” Mark laughs. “Have you ever met me?”

You giggle. “Okay, well… if you’re the most awkward person on the planet, then I’m the close second.” you tell him.

“And that’s why we make such a good pair.” he replies.

Why did you feel so guilty every time you remembered how much you loved Jaemin?

You both finished your meals; Mark, of course, offered to pay for everything. Then you both left the restaurant. The sun was beginning to set.

“Ooh, wait,” you tell Mark, pulling your camera from your bag. He stops to look at you. “Let me take a picture of you here,” you say, pointing to one of the neon signs in the window.

Mark gets in front of it and poses, and you snap the photo. You both watch as it develops. “Perfect.” you show it to Mark.

You decide to head back to Mark’s house to hang out for a few more hours. As the sun set, the city was becoming less crowded. You passed children riding their bikes back home, people arriving home from work. Everything felt so normal, once again.

“Hey,” Mark says as you reach his room. “Check this out.” he grabs his guitar. “I finally learned how to play this song,”

“Hmm?” you lounge on his bed. “What song?”

He strums his guitar. You could already tell how good he had gotten at it; you only got the chance to hear him play twice before he died.

You recognize the song instantly — I’m Yours by Jason Mraz. It brings a smile to your face. Mark sings along softly. You realize his singing voice has gotten better as well.

You listen to him sing and shift to your side, propping yourself up with your elbow and resting your head on your hand. He’s completely immersed in the music. He looks so happy. You slowly retrieve your bag and take a photo of him.

He stops. “Oh… sorry. I kinda got preoccupied there,” he laughs.

“No, it’s okay…” you reply, feeling guilty for pulling him out of his music-induced-daze. “I was enjoying it.”

“Really?” Mark taps the strings of his guitar. “Well… I’ll finish the song then.” he continues strumming, taking a few moments to find where he left off.

You watch him, a soft smile on your face. This was a moment you definitely wanted to savor. If you were going to forget your time here, you at least wanted to remember this. It was beautiful. It was Mark.

[10:45 p.m.]

Mark offered to walk you home before it got too late — he had forgotten that it was a school night for him.

“Are you sure your mom won’t be mad?” Mark asks, nervously.

You laugh. “Once again, no. If she was worried about me we’d see flyers on the telephone poles,” you joke.

Mark chuckles. “Okay… I just don’t wanna get you in trouble for keeping you out so late. I lost track of time, to be honest…”

You nod. “Me too.” You had spent hours listening to Mark play his guitar and he tried to help you learn a song, but you weren’t as musically gifted as him, so it didn’t go very well. But Mark acted as if you were the God of Guitar, cheering when you played a few chords.

“Today was really fun.” he says softly. “If you ever wanna do this to… unwind… or whatever… just let me know.”

You smile. “Of course.”

Your heart drops as your house comes into view. It was your last few moments with Mark.

He walks you to your doorstep this time; he usually just walks to your driveway. It’s almost as if he knows. “Well,” Mark says, sighing. “We’re here.”

You grin, trying to mask your sadness. “Yeah… thanks for today. It was really fun!” you say.

Mark stares at you for a moment. “Um…” his eyes dart around, not sure where to look. “I…”

You watch him as he struggles to form a sentence. “Mark?” you ask softly.

He closes his mouth before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I just had a lot of fun today.” he says.

You nod slowly. What did he really want to say? “Hurry and go home,” you tell him. “I don’t need you being all tired tomorrow.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

Mark stares at you for a few moments more. “You’re right,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I’m tired already… I’ll probably sleep like a baby when I get home.” Whatever tension was there had disappeared. In a spur-of-a-moment decision, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” you tell him. Your head is against his chest; You can hear his heart beating.

“Of course,” he breathes. He finally wraps his arms around you. “Are… you okay?” he asks again.

You feel tears rushing to your eyes again. You chuckle. “I’m fine. I just… I love you.” you whisper. “You’re my best friend, okay? And… I need you to know that.”

He rubs your back. “I love you too,” he replies. “I’m so glad to know you.” he says.

You let him go. You knew you had to.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mark says.

You nod. “I’ll see you.”

You knew it was a lie, but only on your end. He’d see you. You wouldn’t be seeing him. But you knew what you were doing was right. Mark starts walking away, giving you one final smile before he was out of sight.

You push your front door open, going straight to your room and letting yourself cry. You let all of your emotions out. You wanted to run to Mark and hug him again and you never wanted to let go.

You finally pulled yourself together when you heard a faint knock on your door. You wipe your eyes and face quickly, although you knew your face would be puffy from crying. “Come in.”

Jisung peeks in. “Are you okay?”

You nod, although it’s unconvincing — his simple question makes you cry more. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you crying?” Jisung opens the door completely and enters, sitting next to you on your bed. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m not sad,” you lie. “I’m just… feeling a lot of emotions right now.”

Jisung furrows his brows. “But… you seem sad.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not, bud. I’m fine. Nothing happened between me and Mark, if that’s what you’re asking. I guess I’m just feeling… thankful. For Mark, and you, and all my friends.”

“Oh…” you can tell Jisung is still confused, but he shrugs it off. “Well… I guess as long as you aren’t sad, it’s okay.”

You feel him wrap and arm around you. You hug him back, feeling much more relieved now that you had cried a bit more.

“I’m going to bed now,” Jisung says, removing his arm from around your shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay…?”

You nod. “I’m okay, really. Go to bed. Don’t stay up late because of me.” you tell him. He should’ve been in bed already… you realize.

Jisung nods. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Jisung.”

He seems taken aback by your words. You don’t blame him — no matter what, telling your sibling you love them still feels awkward.

“Love you too.”

He leaves your room. You pick up your bag from where you had placed it when you got to your room and retrieved your camera. You collect all the photos you had taken. The one of Jisung in the kitchen, him talking to Mark, Mark and his ice cream, everyone outside of the ice cream parlor, him outside of the restaurant, him playing his guitar, and finally, the photo Hyuck had taken of you. You shove them in your pocket, praying that they would return to the correct universe with you.

You lay down on your bed, completely exhausted. You just want to fall asleep, but you know you can’t. You pull out your phone, going to your messages and clicking on Hyuck’s name.

You

let me know when you’re ready.

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Ashes

part 05/?? “everything on tatooine is broken”

masterlist

previous part // next part

word count 2.2k

an: im so sorry its been awhile since i’ve updated but here ye go

You had never been so happy to eat terrine in your life. You weren’t sure how much of that Tatooine delicacy you had eaten with the others, but as the suns fell and the cooler night air swept over the sandy dunes, you were lost in your own head versus the conversation before you.

Everything had flooded back to you in one fell swoop after you woke up. The air tickled your skin even from inside Ben’s hut, you could hear what sounded like the far away breaths of a Raider, and in the back of your mind you could feel.. Him. It was a dark and looming impression, something you couldn’t shake as the voices around you were finally starting to sink in.

“We don’t really know where we’re headed next,” Cal’s voice was explaining. He was uncertain, and hesitant to admit what he was saying. Next to him Cere sat back in her chair, fiddling with something on her belt as he continued. “We received a transmission from someone with the Rebel Alliance, but didn’t know if it was safe to travel there.”

Your fingers burned at that admission. You looked up from your bowl with a thought, just a simple idea really. But maybe..?

“I know some alternate routes you could take,” you suddenly interjected into the conversation. You pushed your spoon around the bowl, the clanking became the only sound in the room for some reason. “We’d use them to stay off the Empire’s radar.”

“That would be.. Well great,” Cal said. You nodded as he continued talking, and then set your bowl down.

“Great. We can leave in the morning,” you stated. You did your best to ignore the sudden eyes of everyone in the room on you. You even stood to collect a couple dishes, before someone spoke another word.

“You’re.. Coming along?” Cere asked. You nodded a bit, making a move to the washer when someone else (someone you really didn’t want to argue with right now) spoke up.

“Do you mind leaving us alone for a moment?”

You listened to the shuffle of feet slowly leave the room, followed by the sound of the metal door closing. You tried your best to stay engrossed in cleaning this bowl, but Ben’s ever looming irritated presence was making the room unbearable. You paused and looked to the ceiling and sighed. “Ben-”

“You can’t be serious,” he cut you off. You hummed quietly and went back to scrubbing the bowl in an effort to make it new again. He began to pace behind you, probably with his hands on hips like when he usually scolds you for your decisions. “You nearly died and your first thought is to escort them across the galaxy?”

“I wouldn’t be escorting them,” you replied. You laid the bowl down and grabbed a rag to wipe your hands with. He was waiting for a follow up to your statement, but you.. Didn’t know how to put it. You kept your back to him, fixated on getting your hands dry beyond reason. Not being able to see him would make this easier. “I’d be joining them… For good.”

The silence after your confession was suffocatingly thick. You had to put the rag down and finally turned to face him, but your chest tightened. Ben looked at you with scrunched eyebrows, jaw locked, but his eyes were filled with.. Sorrow. You felt a burn at the back of your throat, and took a step forward. “Ben-”

“I met them, the ones you’ve told me about,” he cut you off. You froze in place, unsure of what he was saying, but the way his shoulders seemed to relax meant to you that he wasn’t lying. Ben sighed, looking down towards his feet and crossing his arms. “They told me about how.. You have to help him fulfill his destiny.”

You blinked at him. He was avoiding your gaze more than you wanted to avoid this conversation. You nodded, though he couldn’t see it and couldn’t help but grip your fingers onto the sleeves of your shirt. You weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t know what exactly you were going to do, how you’d get to him, where this path was going to take you, or even why you were chosen for this life, but you admitted the only thing you were certain of. “I have to go with them, Ben.. I just know I have to.”

Ben shut his eyes for a moment. He had to collect himself before he looked up to meet your eyes, and when he did he felt something grow heavy in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. But he knew that this was your destiny. All Ben could hope for was that you could save him, and maybe.. Ben would see you again one day. He nodded a bit in acceptance, but turned away and offered a few words over his shoulder.

“I just hope you are able to get through to him after all these years.”

Vader didn’t often sleep. Most times when he did he was met with visions and dreams, filled with either his old, weak Master, or images of the pregnant Senator he was formerly friends with. Most times when his mind was able to find momentary peace, his memories of you filled his mind. Tonight seemed to be no different, lucky for him in some way, this memory was when he was a child back on Tatooine.

The hot sand under his boots and blazing glare from the sun was nearly unbearable as he pulled a bag of parts back to Watto’s. He was small, and the bag was large and strained against his shoulder. But everyone that walked past him didn’t bat an eye, didn’t offer help, and he would remember that for years after. He groaned, coming closer to the shop when he could feel the strap snap, and the tension behind him disappeared. The young boy looked behind him at the broken bag, and rolled his eyes. Of course it broke. Everything on Tatooine was broken, the people included.

The younger Anakin knelt down and tried to rewrap the bag around the strewn parts, sweat trickling down his forehead. When he would get one side up and together, the other would fall back open. He was ready to give up, let the eyes watching him and just waiting to pounce on these parts have at it, until the other side lifted. Anakin looked under the bag, and saw the feet of another. It wasn’t until he lowered the sack a bit was he met with an unfamiliar face.

“Who are you?” He asked. The girl offered a smile, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and adjusted her grip on the bag.

“(Y/N).”

Anakin would repeat that name to himself as he worked throughout the rest of that day, and into the night. His mother could hear the light whispers under his breath, and smiled to herself each time. Even when she asked him to run the trash out to the nearest compactor, he didn’t complain, instead he was more than happy to do it. He hoped that maybe he could see her again. But on the way there he didn’t see anything, not even on his journey back. Not until he was passing the local Cantina, and someone slowly eased themselves out.

The night shifted, he was taller, like he often remembered of his former self. The Cantina doors slid shut behind the figure, who held themselves up on the edge of the cottage-like walls. Their head was facing the ground, their free hands steady on their torso as if to steady their stomach as well. Vader rolled his eyes, why his mind drifted to an image of yet another drunk Cantina attendant was beyond him. Not until they straightened themselves, and their eyes locked.

You looked.. Different. And it wasn’t because you were probably drunk off your ass. Your eyes carried something heavier in them than he remembered, and it made him uncomfortable. Vader couldn’t hold that gaze much longer, and quickly he turned away from your image, and was quick to disappear into the night. But when he stole glances over his shoulder you were still there, following behind corners, pushing yourself off the wall, and Vader stopped. He couldn’t run from his past anymore. He had to face you.

So Vader took a step and turned back to where he had left you. He waited there until your figure came up, but what he hadn’t expected was when you came face to face with him, you stumbled back. There was shock, there was.. Fear even. With a shake of his head, Vader was met again with loneliness and darkness.. The only thing he had come to know these last few years.

Steady breaths. Focus your mind. You’ll be okay.. He’ll be okay.

In all honesty, as you stood here in the refresher, gripping the edge of the sink and taking frequent glances at yourself in the mirror - you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the right decision. There was a tug-of-war going on inside your mind and chest, as well as a distant feeling that you had to leave the sandy dunes of Tatooine. It was like a burning sensation at the tip of your fingers, along with a weight in your pocket.

Deep breath.

You reached down and pulled the weight from your pocket, the familiar japor ivory rubbed your fingers as you moved it over your palm. But looking down at this piece of your past, remembering who gave this to you, it was like the tug-of-war suddenly halted. You closed your fist around the pendant, and slid it back into your pocket.

Anakin needed you. Probably more than ever.

As you exited the refresher, met with the empty feeling that was looming in the house. Outside the door of Ben’s hut was a new adventure just waiting for you to begin. You hadn’t seen the man in question since your disagreement last night, and wondered if he was out there to see you off. But time was ticking, and on your way to the door, you whisked your helmet from a shelf and paused at the door.

You were going to be fine.

The final sentiment paraded in your mind as you slid your helmet over your head, your vision met with the automated eyes inside, and the heat of Tatooine bathing you under your clothing. The sudden sunlight forced you to squint, but one thing was abundantly clear as you stared forward at Cal and Cere standing at the foot of the ramp to their gleaming ship.

Ben wasn’t seeing you off.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and with each stride closer to the pair, you were feeling so glad that you soon wouldn’t have to feel this sand under your boots again. Or at least for a little while. As you neared, the pair turned to face you and you offered a nod. “Everything alright?”

“It will be as soon as we get off this planet,” Cere commented. Oh boy did you agree with her on that. She gave Cal one final nod before making her way up the ramp, and leaving you two alone in the blazing heat. Cal looked at you with squinted eyes, and motioned back towards the ship.

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied. You took one final glance behind you towards Ben’s small hut, where you suddenly realized you had spent so much of your time over the last two years. It made your chest tighten that he was so upset that he wouldn’t even see you off. “He isn’t coming is he?”

Cal hesitated, which made you look back at him. Though he couldn’t see behind your helmet, he could feel your piercing look. Cal tightened his jaw and could only offer a small nod. You flexed your gloved fingers and sighed a bit under the helmet. “Right then.”

It was short and sweet. Cal allowed you to enter the Mantis first, but not without taking one final look at the sandy dunes outside. For a moment his eyes landed on a figure in the distance, but as soon as he saw them they disappeared. He hesitated for a moment, before Greez’s calls from the cockpit snapped him out of it.

“Cal we’re burning precious time here!”

With a hit with his fist, the ramp to the Mantis lifted and closed the crew in from the hot environment. As he made his way to the front of the ship, Cal took a final glance at Merrin who seemed to occupy BD’s attention, he came up to your side and placed a hand on the back of Greez’s chair.

You glanced around at the boards and mechanisms that covered the walls as Cal came to your side. You crossed your arms before you as the engines began to purr outside, the pilot flipping switch after switch. The ship pushed off the ground, shaking inside a bit as it stabilized itself, and you glanced at Cal. “So.. Where are we headed?”

Greez glanced back at Cal as the ship began to exit the atmosphere. You watched the two seemingly exchange unsaid words before Cal lowered himself to look fully out the front of the ship.

“We’re going to Alderaan.”

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musicnoots · 4 years ago

Text

Honey, Hold On For Me

Shifty Powers/Reader

Prompt “The way I feel when I’m with you...” requested by anon

A/N: i’m sorry this took so long but i finally beat writers block and this present to you all... THIS!

Synopsis: You and Shifty begin to talk about the future—what lies ahead on your journey together and what happens when the story ends.

Tags: @wexhappyxfew @junojelli @dumpofdumblings @bandofmarvels @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @floydtab @tvserie-s-world @yeahcurrahee @gottapenny @dustyjjumpwings @those-dusty-jump-wings @meteora-fc @rayleighshughes @medievalfangirl @majwinters @not-john-watsons-blog @alienoresimagines @david-weepster @higgles123 @curraheev

It’d been a long day, warm and breezy, honey-slow for a change. He was lucky enough to snag a moment for himself after weeks of fighting along the frontlines, briefly forgetting the sound of death and instead, his day was filled with you, humming a tune as you laid just mere inches away from him.

It was familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it—he thinks it’s probably one of those Ella Fitzgerald songs he used to hear on the radio during those hot, summer nights back home at Clinchco. He rests against the trunk of the tree his body leans against, you’ve laid your head on his lap, eyes closed as his fingers became weaved within the strands of your hair—he thinks you look beautiful. The sun shines on your face so perfectly, it highlights your features so marvelously, the identity of the mystery tune no longer plagues his head but rather, replaced by another.

“I had a dream the other night.”

“Hm?” You glance up, unbothered.

Shifty fights the urge to shy away from the question. Instead, he rests his head against the tree his body leans against and brushes a stray hair from your face. “I had a dream...about us. We were married.”

You open your eyes, and the corners of your lips curved upwards. “We were?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “We lived in a beautiful house back at Clinchco—two stories, nice, big ol’ living room, and a cute little pupper waiting for us in the front yard. Don’t think we named ‘im, but we were married, darlin’. Wedding bands and everythin’.” The rings were gold, he remembers. He’d run his thumb over the metal when he takes your hand into his over the kitchen counter, early morning I love yous exchanged over hot coffee. Having you be a part of his life in the years to come just felt like the right thing to happen. “I guess...I guess it was everything I could’ve ever wished for.”

“Everything you could’ve ever wished for?” you echo back, asking if you had heard him right and he nods.

“It was all so...perfect. It was the best dream I’ve had in a long time, and I still think about it, how...how wonderful everything was. And it just made sense, y’know, after all this war stuff, for me to go back home and settle down.” He looks down and hopes to see a look of agreement on your face, that maybe, you’d want to tag along with him in the end.

But of course, he doesn’t know what your post-war ambitions include. You’re young, you and Shifty both, at the ripe old age of twenty-one, he wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t feel like setting down just yet. If you wanted to travel the world, earn a university degree, reach for the highest stars in the sky, he’d promise that he’ll be by your side, even if it meant delaying his own plans until the time was right. Shifty doesn’t care where his future endeavors take him, he just knows that he’s meant to live them out with you.

“I think at this point, we both deserve that,” you say, rolling on your side and smiling at him. You’re glad you both grasped a moment for yourselves because if this was the last time you’d see each other, this is the way you would spend it—in his arms, at ease. “I’m hopin’ I get to live long enough to live that, you know? I don’t even know if I’ll be lucky enough to see your face tomorrow, I’m stuck here savoring this moment between us here, so that I’ll have something to hold on to if either of us don’t make it.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but the words come stuck at his throat. When you put it like that, Shifty becomes more aware of the circumstances that surround the universe at this very moment, and he’s almost found himself with a change of heart, a revelation. He pulls his hand away from your hair and traces the shape of your eyebrow with his thumb. He wished he would have appreciated this moment as much as you did. “I...I never thought of it like that before...suppose our days together are numbered, and we don’t know how long it’s gonna last.”

“Life without you, I don’t even wanna think what that would look like, Darrell. I never wanna think about a world where you’re not in it. Guess I love you a lot, but I just wanna believe that we’d be together until the end of time. Physically, emotionally, spiritually…”

“Maybe the best we could do is to hold onto each other for as long we can,” he says. He’s not so sure else to say. He didn’t expect for this conversation to ever happen, but he thinks it was bound to happen anyways—fighting on in a war next to the person he loves, it was a conversation he should have been ready for, but he never knew how heavy it would be.

It’s a solemn evening.

What began as a simple conversation of dreams and what ifs turned into a serious talk about life and death in a time where the next sunrise isn’t even guaranteed for every soul that long to see it. Shifty starts to think that maybe this conversation was meant to happen. He should have known that there might be a day where he would have to let go of you, go on with life as if you didn’t hold his heart with the gentlest hands—he realizes that he only wants to spend the rest of his own life with you. The first time he kissed you, behind the mess hall under the hot Georgia night, hair matted against your skin, he already knew there was no else he would rather spend life’s adventures with.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask you,” he speaks again, “if you’d be okay livin’ the rest of forever with me. You don’t have to say yes.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t have to say yes?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna force you into making a decision for me—I know Clinchco ain’t exactly a town with a whole lot of opportunities,” he said, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “No matter what you say, I won’t love you any less. You could be halfway across the country doin’ ya own thing, and I’ll still be writing you love letters like I always do. Hopin’ they’ll nicer by then, but I can’t make a promises that they’ll be in any form extravagant.”

The speech smacks you across the face. You roll off his lap and plant your hand on the Earth to keep you steady. “Darrell...you really don’t have to—“

“But honey, I do mean it,” he interrupts. He bites his bottom lip and watches your expression, your eyebrows as they knit together in shock. “The way I feel when I’m with you...I just wanna feel it everyday, forever. I don’t care where in the world you take us, I just wanna be with you, Clinchco or not.”

“How come I don’t have to say yes?” you ask.

“‘Cause I know Clinchco ain’t the town for everyone, and I don’t know if you’d wanna settle down with some ol’ hillbilly like me. I know I can’t offer a whole lot to you. If you don’t wanna be seen with a fella like me, I understand, and I’ll still love you no matter what. And if you don’t wanna be with me no more, or if we can’t be together after this, just know that I would rather have you for the time we have right now than anyone else for the rest of my life.”

“Darrell…”

He gives you a sad smile. He means it.

You hold up a hand to his cheek and stroke the skin gently. “But I don’t know what I wanna do after all of this is over...we don’t even know when this is gonna end.”

“That’s alright, maybe we can think about it on the way…” He takes your hand and plants his lips on your palm. “I just needa know if you’re willing to spend the rest of eternity with...with me.”

For a fleeting moment, you’re motionless and Shifty’s smile starts to fade away with every passing second. He knows not to make a fuss about it, after all, he only wants what’s best for you, and he’ll be happy regardless of your decision.

“Yeah.” You sit back on your haunches and take his face into your hands. “I do wanna spend it all with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pull him in for a kiss, his own hands resting on the curve of your back. He worries about his lips being chapped, but you’ve kissed him one too many times to even bother with that—it’s perfect every time.

He pulls away after a short moment. “I’m not guilting you, am I?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Never. I’m choosing to live it out with you, and wherever this world takes us—who knows? I’m not expecting anything lavish, dear. All I really want is to be by your side, and for you to be right by mine.”

He’s awestruck. “You really do mean it, do you?”

“I know this is where I’m supposed to be.” You sit yourself next to him with your back against the tree trunk and put your head on his shoulder. “This is where I’m meant to be…”

There’s only a few more hours left until the both of you are able to get some shut eye, the sun finally ends her descent below horizon to welcome the faint outline of the moon. Shifty thinks about his dream again, how it would be to sleep together in an actual bed, legs tangled beneath blankets, wedding bands resting on the nightstand nearby—he wonders if that’s exactly what the future has in store for him. In another world, he wouldn’t have to worry about making it out the war alive, rather, he’d just have to worry about how long you both can sleep in together until you feel the guilt seep in from your sides.

He wraps his arms around you and watches as the shadows on the ground slowly blend into nothing, daylight fading away into the solemn darkness of the night. He feels content with what he has now and kisses the top of your head. You smile and squeeze his thigh, all too focused on enjoying the moment as it is.

For now, he would have to hold on for a little while longer. For the both of you.

#shifty powers #band of brothers #hbo war #easy company #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers fic #shifty powers x reader #this one is the one of the longer ones #but most of my fics now are getting longer so #it really took me 3 weeks to write this

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whatisthisidefk · 3 years ago

Text

The River, the Sea, and the Stars Part Five (SFW version)

They stood to bid goodbye to Dra's parents after the teapot was empty and the plate of sandwiches bare. Dra gave Therien the responsibility of repacking their bags with new supplies she gleaned from her parents, while she distributed half of her tea supply into clay jars on the kitchen shelves.

Soon, though, they slung their bags over their shoulders. Therien could almost see Dra vibrating, shifting her weight with the lashing of her tail as she turned her face to the afternoon sun that streamed across the road.

In a way, he understood. He wanted to be on the road, too, though the witches' cottage had been comfortable like a dream. He could see how easy it would be to get lost in this lazy little village among the herbs and flowers and forest.

"Merci, Mem, Din," he said. "I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality."

"Dra's talked so highly of you, for so long," said Mem, placing a hand on his arm in exactly the same way Dra often did. "I'm glad we finally met."

"So am I. I hope we can visit again when all this is over."

She patted his arm. "Here," she said, "Since you have room in your bag now, some pasties for the road. They'll stay good for a few days if you need 'em to." She handed him a parcel wrapped in a worn tea-towel, tied with yarn. Therien packed them away at the top of his satchel. They were still slightly warm, and though he'd just had lunch, his mouth watered at the scent of the herbs she must have used in baking them.

"Ready?" Dra called from the doorway, and Therien nodded.

"Let's go save Andros," he replied, and followed her into the morning.

***

They left the village behind in short order, staying on the road going westward. For a few hours, they were surrounded by thick forest on either side. Occasionally, they came to crossroads or offshoots, but each time Therien expected a clearing, there were only more trees.

He couldn't complain. The canopy provided shade, but enough sunlight made it through and dappled the ground. The road itself changed surface whenever they neared a crossroads or a settlement, but for the most part, it was well-tempered dirt and fairly even. The weather agreed with them, as well, warm but with a breeze that ruffled the leaves and made the forest whisper all around. It made for a pleasant walk, and it would have been perfect, except the silence gave Therien plenty of time to think about Andros.

As ever, the memory of Andros begging him not to follow replayed itself in his mind. But so did the sound of those chains, and the fear in his eyes. The tug in Therien's chest still pulled at him, guiding him, he imagined, though toward what, he didn't know. Was Andros in a cage somewhere, or enslaved? Was he afraid? Was he alone? Was he--

"You're quiet, even for you," Dra said, disrupting his thoughts.

Therien shook his head. He felt dizzy. "Thinking, that's all. Um...could we rest for a moment?" He slowed to a stop, swayed in place. "I feel like...not right."

She was at his side in an instant. "Here, off to the side. Sit on the grass. Easy, like that." She offered him a canteen. "Take a few sips. I'm sorry--it's been a lot."

The water helped. Therien wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Merci."

"Ça va?" She asked. He heard the concern in her voice and the use of French meant she worried about him somehow not having full use of his mental faculties.

Which was odd. "I'm fine, Dra," he said irritably. "What was that about?"

Her shoulders relaxed. "Sorry. I wanted to be sure you were okay. The Feywild is...it's a lot for mortals, you know? Things affect people here. You wouldn't climb a mountain without adjusting to the altitude over time, right? It's the same thing here. We just leapt in because it's urgent, but if we'd planned this, you would have come over and gone back a little at a time."

"You tell me this now?" He snorted a laugh. "It's probably all the glitter in the air. Honestly, I'm fine. I promise."

"Okay. But tell me if you feel strange again. A few minutes' rest won't make much of a difference in our journey, and you should be ready for anything."

He handed the canteen back to her after another swig and was about to agree to let her know, but they both stilled at a sound from the woods behind where they rested. He glanced sharply at her. "Did you hear something?"

She frowned. "I did. It sounded like--"

"--elp? Help? Anyone?" A querulous voice called, then, more quietly, as if to himself, "This is the worst bloody day. Help?"

Therien scrambled to his feet and, dizziness forgotten, he and Dra left the road to locate the source of the voice.

"Where are you?" called Dra as they moved through the trees. "Are you okay? Say something?"

"I'm here!" A note of hope entered the tone. "Careful of the slope by the large elm. I slipped and I'm stuck. Oh, for the love of the gods, help!"

They reached the tree in question. As they came around it, one on each side, they found a well-dressed young man thigh-deep in mud at the bottom of a depression in the forest floor. He clung to the broken limb of a tree that arced over the spot, and not far from where he was caught lay a wide-brimmed, feathered hat.

The man himself was quite obviously Fey, with icy blue skin and silver hair. He was also, Therien couldn't help but notice, very pretty. At the moment, however, those pretty features expressed a combination of annoyance and helplessness. He brightened considerably once he saw Therien.

"Ah, kind sir, lend me your aid?" He managed to bat his eyelashes and attempted to position himself in a more fetching manner, though that movement was hampered by the mud. Still, he gamely tried, and Therien couldn't help but laugh.

"Hold on," he said as he unhooked the rope from his belt. He handed one end to Dra. "Can you get this around the tree without falling in yourself?"

Dra gave a derisive snort. "My people are made for this," she stated. To the blue man, who had yet to acknowledge her, "How did you end up here, anyway? We're way off the road."

"My hat blew off," he said, with a sad glance at the offending accessory. "I chased it and almost had it, then I slipped." He pointed his chin at a swath of disturbed leaves that did indeed run from the tree to where he now waited. "I'm just glad no one was around to see that."

"Well," Therien said, bringing the man's attention back to him full force, "We'll have you out in a moment." He picked his way around to a shallower side of the depression and eyed the limb of the tree. "How secure is that, do you think?"

The man gave the branch an experimental tug. It held firm. "Seems strong to me…?"

"Good. I can use it for leverage. I'm going to throw this over the top, and you catch it. All right?" He tied the end into a large loop, big enough to go over the man's head and around his waist.

"Anything you say," said the man, a little breathlessly.

Therien glanced at Dra. "Got that end secured?"

"Yep," she replied cheerfully, with a little wave. She'd wrapped it once around the tree and braced the end in her hands. "Pull 'im out!"

He ran the rope across his back and around his forearm to his hand, then tossed the free end over the limb. "Catch!" The man grasped for it; as soon as he let go of the branch to wind his hands in the rope, he began to sink again. Therien gave him as much slack as he could without losing tension. "Get it under your hips and hold on!"

Therien pulled. At first, nothing happened, but then the man's legs began to come free with a sucking sound. Therien walked backwards to haul him out of the muck until the man could get both arms around the branch and his feet dangled in the air.

"Take up the slack, Dra," he called, and she did as he asked. It allowed him to keep his end of the rope secure as he moved closer to the man, sliding along the rope until he reached the downed limb and could put his hands out for the man to take.

After a moment, the man let go of the branch and allowed himself to fall into Therien's arms, safely away from the wet earth that had trapped him.

"Got you," said Therien.

"Yes, you do," sighed the man with a dreamy expression, "my hero."

***

Dra retrieved the hat while Therien set the man on his feet, though he seemed loath to let go of Therien quite yet. "Just a moment," he said demurely, "let me catch my breath. I'm in your debt, kind sir. Tell me, to whom do I owe my thanks?"

"Pretty sure you are the one who's supposed to introduce yourself first," Dra said dryly, which gave Therien a chance to extricate himself from the stranger's grasp.

"Oh, but of course. Where are my manners?" He bowed with a flourish. "I am Mnaer, prince of the Starlit Court. And truly, I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Dra rolled her eyes. "Oh, that makes sense on so many levels. Careful, Therien. He's got a reputation."

"My reputation is sterling," he began, then shrugged. "Actually, no, it's not. But sweet--Therien, is it?--please believe me when I say that I honor my debts. And," he added, "I have a feeling that repaying you for your help would be an utter pleasure."

"You really don't have to," Therien began, only to be cut off with a wave.

"I want to, lovely. At very least, let me buy you dinner." He seemed to notice Dra for the first time. "Both of you, of course. There's an inn not far from here. What do you say?"

Therien looked to Dra, who considered a moment. "Drinks, too?"

"I'll buy the whole inn if it helps." Mnaer's eyes returned to Therien's. "Please, allow a man a chance to express his thanks."

"All right," Therien said at last. "Dinner sounds lovely."

***

"What is that accent?" Mnaer asked once they were on the road. "I have never heard anything like it."

Therien ignored Dra's poorly covered snicker. "I'm French," he replied. "Um, from France."

"In the Mortal realm," Dra added, which seemed to startle Mnaer.

"You're a Mortal? How odd." His study of Therien took on a contemplative air. "I've never been there. Would you say something in your language?"

This was at least a conversation Therien had had many times before. Ever since he'd first gone to America, his accent had been a topic of interest. "Ah, je m'appelle Therien de Mer, et j'aime nager."

Mnaer faked a swoon. "Gorgeous. I have no idea what you said but it sounded incredible."

"I just said my name and that I like to swim." Therien shrugged. "It's just a language."

"Darling, it is not just anything. Maybe in the Mortal realm where they can't appreciate the sound of heaven, but here? The Feywild understands beauty, sweet Therien."

"Is literally everything out of your mouth some kind of flirtation?" Dra asked, irked. "Can't you see he's not interested? Gods."

As she stalked ahead, Mnaer frowned after her, nonplussed. "One never knows unless one tries," he called after her, but then he turned to Therien. "Is that true? Am I bothering you?"

Therien weighed his response carefully. "I don't mind it," he said at last. "But I am not interested in that kind of thing with anyone new."

"Oh. There's someone...not new?"

"I'm on a quest, according to what I've been told here, you see." Therien couldn't stop his soft smile. "I'm off to rescue my True Love."

Mnaer made a small sound of understanding. "She must be the fairest in the land."

"He is," said Therien with a sidelong glance. He didn't miss the way Mnaer brightened at that information. "His name is Andros."

The prince wound his arm through Therien's. "Now, this I must hear. Tell me all about him."

***

#river sea stars #jenny writes #original fiction #mlm #fantasy

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years ago

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hi, i never asked for a fic before but could you do one about female reader getting kidnapped by micah and she gets tourtured, arthur and the gang go save her. idk it sounds silly im not good at giving fic ideas lol

Well, Anon, I’m glad to pop your request cherry! This was a good request, don’t sell yourself short!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You stand at Pearson’s wagon, preparing tonight’s stew yet again. The cook is too drunk to do it himself yet again, poor man. Not that you blame him. You spend half the time here in Beaver Hollow wishing you were too drunk to be coherent. You’ve never been in a more foul place and the entire gang seems to sense it. What used to be a strong-knit family only a few weeks ago is now more feral than a pack of starving wolves, eager to rip each other’s throats out.

As you cut up some venison, you look up and see Micah walking through camp, taunting Karen, Mary-Beth and Uncle as he passes them. Out of everyone here, Micah seems to be the one settling in the best, and he’s the only one who seems happy about the predicament of the gang. His behavior has begun to make you suspicious.

Just as he reaches the horses and mounts up on his black and white steed, Arthur and John pull in. They must have finished with the Bacchus bridge then. You hear Arthur ask Micah what he’s doing, but Micah waves him off.

“Nothing you need to worry about, cowpoke. Just going to go scouting to see what might be the next best move now that you two finally got a move on that bridge.”

Micah twitches his reins and begins walking down the path, whistling as he goes. You don’t like his answer, too vague. Tilly walks past, so you ask her to finish supper so you can go and talk to Arthur since you haven’t seen him in a few days. She agrees, though grudgingly. You know the only reason she did so was because Arthur is your husband.

You walk up to him and quickly say you’re off to do a ride and do some hunting of your own.

“What? No hello?” he says seriously.

“I’m sorry, Arthur, it’s just this place. It sets my teeth on edge.” You lean in and whisper, “I want to know what Micah is up to. Don’t tell anyone.”

He nods understandingly and quickly gives you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart, but be safe out there. Murphrees are still about. And always keep both eyes on Micah.”

He continues walking into the gang with John and you mount your horse and quickly trot down the trail, trying to make up for lost time. Once you get to the end of the trail, you have to take a minute to figure out which direction Micah went. It rained a few hours ago, so the mud is still drying, allowing you to see which tracks are the freshest. You identify the tracks leaving the trail you’re on, seeing their headed east towards Annesburg.

After cantering down a ways, you find Micah up ahead on the trail, going at a leisurely trot. You slow your horse down and stay a good ways back from him so he won’t hear you. You hope you’re just being paranoid and that he really is just on a reconnaissance journey, but something in your gut tells you otherwise.

Nearly half an hour passes and Micah finally turns off the main trail and goes up into the trees. Up ahead, you see a small house peaking through the trunks. You leave your horse near the main trail and run through the foliage, always keeping Micah in sight. As the house gets closer, you can see it looks like it’s been empty for years. Half the roof is caved in and most of the windows are smashed. What is Micah doing here?

Your answer comes as soon as you ask it. The door to the cabin opens and you take shelter behind a large oak. As you peak through a willow bush to see Micah dismounting, a man steps out from the house. You recognize him immediately: Agent Milton, the Pinkerton. What the fuck is Micah doing with this piece of shit?

“Ah, Mr. Bell, we were growing worried,” Milton says as Micah walks up to the porch. You don’t like this, not at all. Micah hasn’t even drawn his gun yet.

“No need to worry about me, Pinkerton. I been busy.”

“Yes I realize that. Stealing the dynamite as it was passing through Van Horn and I just received word that the Bacchus Bridge has been destroyed. I can’t imagine you had anything to do with that.”

Micah gives him a nasty smile. “That was one of Dutch’s fine ideas. He figures, we blow up the only railroad that connects to Fort Wallace and soon the army will be making their way up to fix it, bringing tons of money as payroll with them.”

“That’s what he thinks, does he?” Milton says in an almost bored fashion.

“That’s exactly what he thinks. I helped him reach that conclusion myself. He figures by making enough noise, you folks won’t think it was us. He’s using the Indians up here to take his blame.”

“Well, I don’t know about the wisdom behind these actions, Mr. Bell, but rest assured it will be delt with. Now, I have another plan for you. We want Van der Linde captured quickly with as little casualties as possible, so I have something-”

Suddenly you’re grabbed from behind and your arms are wrenched behind you in a full nelson grip. You try to fight the person off without alerting Milton and Micah to your presence, but the person is too strong for you and he shuffles you out from behind the tree and into full view.

“Mr. Milton! Think you have an uninvited guest to your meeting.”

Milton and Micah look at you. Micah bares his teeth and glares while Milton looks mildly surprised.

“A friend of yours, Mr. Bell? Forgive my saying, but she looks like one of your lot.”

“That’s Morgan’s whore of a wife. What you doin’ here, Y/N?”

Rage pounds through your body and you’d like nothing more than to go and beat Micah to a pulp, but the agent behind you still holds you too tight.

“I had a feeling you were up to no good, Micah. Now here’s my proof.”

“You ain’t got no proof, little girl.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s Dutch gonna believe? Me, married to his right hand man and been with the gang ten years, or the rat he’s known six months?”

To your surprise, Micah begins laughing. “Come on, Y/N, he’s already filled Hosea’s spot with me. Think I can convince him easily enough.”

“And when I tell Dutch you helped get Hosea and Lenny killed? What then, Micah?! You never liked Hosea, I bet you were looking for a way to get him out of your way for a long time! Dutch might be a fool, but he ain’t stupid.”

Micah laughs again but then Milton calls his attention. “Mrs. Morgan has us in a difficult position, Mr. Bell. You were instructed to never be followed to our secret meetings. She needs to be delt with.”

Milton pulls out his gun and aims it at you, but Micah stops him. You think he’s doing it out of mercy until he speaks. “You kill Morgan’s girl, Milton, we’re gonna have a bigger problem on our hands. Morgan might be dumb, but he’s a good fighter. One of the best I ever known. If he finds out his girl’s been shot, he’ll slaughter everyone he comes across.”

Your memory flicks back to one time when an O’Driscoll had shot you in the leg during an ambush. Micah had been there too, so had Bill. Arthur was downright terrifying though when you’d been shot. There’d been two to one with the O’Driscolls having the upper hand, but Arthur killed them all and it had been so quick, Bill and Micah barely had time to help.

“Then what do you recommend we do with her then, Mr. Bell?” Milton says. “We cannot let her return to your little gang.”

Micah ponders for a moment, then he looks around. “We can’t kill her, but we can’t let her go either. But Morgan will come looking for her the moment he suspects she’s in trouble. This is Murphree country, ain’t it? I suggest you let me take care of her, I’ll make it seem like they got hold of her. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she can’t talk.”

Micah walks down the steps and towards you. Panic courses through you and you try to fight your captor off again, but with no more luck than your previous attempts. When Micah’s close, he pulls out his pistol and hits you hard in the head, knocking you unconscious.

*****************************************

Some time later, you begin to stir awake. Your head pounds from where Micah hit you, but you somehow manage to push the pain aside in order to assess your situation. When your vision grows accustomed to the darkness, you see you’re in a cave. Not the one at Beaver Hollow. It’s a rather short cave, in fact you can easily see the opening. A river gurgles happily just outside and across the way are thick trees. In front of you sits the shredded form of what must have been a small shelter, though it looks like it’s been here years. Around the cool cave, bones of animals are scattered around and you smell the fresh stink of wild dogs.

You try to move but find you’re incapable of doing so. You’re forced down on your knees, your arms tied behind your head to a post so that your elbows are even with the top of your head. It’s hard to say how long you’ve been here, though the sunlight outside suggests a couple of hours. Your arms hurt from being tied up, but you can’t work the binds loose.

You grunt as you try to escape from your bonds and out of the shelter walks Micah, who slides his big knife back into its sheath.

“Bout time you woke up,” he says with a slight snarl.

“You piece of shit, Micah. You sold us out.”

“I told you a long time ago, Y/N, I’m a survivor. Anyone who’s spent an inkling of time with Dutch can see he’s circling the drain. Now I hate the Pinkertons as much as the rest of you, but I ain’t so stupid as to go down with the ship.”

“You coulda just left!” you roar. “Dutch ain’t runnin’ a prison camp!”

“And be left with nothing but the fond memories I hold?” Micah sneers. “Nah, that ain’t good enough. I want money just as much as Dutch does, but there’s no way to get it with him no more. Hosea’s death broke him, I just managed to get into his head enough and then once the Pinkertons have what they want, I get what I want.”

“You fucking rat, Micah. We shoulda shot you months ago!”

Micah responds by punching you hard in the face and you feel your lip split. It doesn’t stop you from glaring up at him.

“Why couldn’t you have just minded your own business, hmm? It didn’t have to come down to this, you know. You coulda just stayed there, cuddled with Morgan like a good girl and lay in his bed while I take care of what needs to be done. But you just had to interfere. It’s a shame really.” Micah’s begun to pace around you and he kneels behind you so he can whisper in your ear. “Y’know, I always kinda liked you. Ya got fire in you that I have to admire. Mm, the things I wouldn’t have minded doing with you, but Morgan has you tied around his finger.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Micah. Even if I weren’t married, I’d slit your throat long before I let you put a finger on me.”

He chuckles and stands up, walking up in front of you again. “See? That’s what I like about you. You don’t take shit, you fight back. I can see why Morgan married ya. It doesn’t make it any easier for me to do what I have to though. Just remember this,” he bends down to look you in the eye again, “your curiosity is what got you here. If it weren’t for your own actions, you wouldn’t be about to suffer like this.”

Before you can say anything, Micah takes a bandana and ties it around your head, stuffing a good portion of it into your mouth. Then, he takes out his knife again and he begins carving into your body, making you scream into the bandana. You try to resolve yourself to not give him the satisfaction of your pain, but you don’t last very long. Tears leak from your eyes as he moves from your arms down to your abdomen. Soon it all becomes too much and you black out again.

*********************************

Night falls and you’re brought sharply back to reality by cold water splashing your face. You gasp and blink, getting a sense of what’s going on. You’re still tied up to the post in the cave. You look down at your body and see that Micah must have stopped slicing you up when you passed out. He’s standing in front of you again, an empty bucket in hand.

“Had a good rest, hmm? Well, I figure you’ve had long enough. Now, I want to remind you that I hate doin’ this to ya, hate doin’ this to your pretty body,” he runs a finger down your from your neck to your navel, making you shiver. “But I know you too well. There’s nothin’ I can do to prevent you from tellin’ Dutch what you saw.”

He straightens up again. “Maybe we can come to an agreement. I’m gonna ask you a question and if I don’t like your answer, you get punished, deal?”

As if you can answer, you’re still gagged. You tell him the answer with your eyes, hoping he can hear you saying to go fuck himself. He smacks his lips a bit and pulls out his gun, counting the bullets. Then, he grabs your gag and pulls it out, letting it hang beneath your chin. You take in a deep breath, finally able to breathe properly.

Before you can do anything else, Micah points the gun at you. “Do you promise not to tell anyone what you saw me doin’ with the Pinkertons?” His voice is soft, threatening.

Despite your fear and knowledge that he will shoot you, you shake your head. “I’m gonna tell every man, woman and child I see,” you spit.

Micah sighs and pulls the trigger. The bullet slams into your thigh, making you cry out in pain. You grip the ropes binding your hands, wishing they would break. Micah pulls back the hammer again and points it at your other leg.

“Do you promise not to tell anyone what you saw me doin’ with the Pinkertons?”

“You can shoot me a thousand times, Micah,” you hiss with a small whimper, “and you can rip out my guts. My answer ain’t ever gonna be different.”

Micah pulls the trigger again, shooting your other thigh and making you scream out again, sobs wrenching out from between your teeth. He sighs and puts the gun away, knowing he can only shoot you so many times before you die. It’s the last thing he wants because, despite things he’s said in the past, Micah is truly scared of what Arthur would do if he killed you.

He stands for a few seconds in front of you, seeming to ponder something as you gasp from the pain. Your lip trembles as you try to swallow it and glare up at him. He stomps away suddenly, muttering something beneath his breath. This leaves you alone with nothing but your pain as company. There isn’t a place on your body that doesn’t hurt anymore. You can only hope that Arthur will soon grow suspicious and go looking for you, but even if he does, how will he find you? You don’t even know where you are.

Your thoughts begin to spiral from here, growing darker. Tears of both pain and fear leak from your eyes. Dread fills you at the thought that you’ll be left in Micah’s clutches until you finally die, whenever he lets you.

***************************

Luckily for you, Micah has left to return to camp. He has to make an appearance in order to not arouse suspicions. Unfortunately for him, this immediately sets Arthur on edge as he knew you were following Micah, yet you’re nowhere to be found.

“Micah,” Arthur says, walking up to him.

“What is it, cowpoke?”

“You seen Y/N anywhere? She left about the same time you did, but she ain’t come back.”

“You know how she is. Out for days on end, always coming back covered in mud and hauling in a mountain of skins. She's fine, Morgan.”

Arthur didn’t like the way Micah’s eyes darted around when he’d spoken of you, and he also noticed small specks of blood on Micah’s knuckles. Of course, Micah’s known for getting into fistfights even in the middle of nowhere, but Arthur doesn’t like how things are stacking up. He’s worried, but he decides to play it cool for a bit. Maybe you will be back shortly dripping in animal furs.

By the next afternoon though, Arthur is thoroughly worried. He’d gone out in the morning to look for you with no success. He found your horse by a cabin, but not you. All your weapons were on your horse as well, so where were you? By the cabin, he found your gunbelt. It wasn’t cut off, so for some reason, either you or someone else removed it. He packed it back up on your horse and went back to camp. Something about the whole thing felt off.

Micah’s been lingering around camp all day, trying to play things cool. He’d snuck out while Arthur was out looking for you in order to give you some food and water, not wanting you to die on him. He needed to keep you alive long enough until he figured out what to do about Arthur. You’d refused the food of course, telling Micah a plethora of things to do to himself.

The sun’s beginning to set and Arthur is growing desperate. He’s sitting in his tent when he hears Micah talking to Javier and Bill.

“If we’re not more careful, we’re gonna lose more folks like poor Hosea, Lenny and Sean. I have a nagging suspicion that things are only going to get worse, and that someone else is gonna disappear. After all, someone’s been doing things behind Dutch’s back. Look at Morgan, goin’ to the Indians while Du-”

He’s cut off suddenly by Arthur grabbing him by his collar and shaking him a little. “Where is she, you little shit?”

“Let go of me!”

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

Micah claws at Arthur’s hands. “Why the hell would I know? I ain’t seen your damn wife since yesterday!”

“Oh really? Because she followed you out of camp. Next thing I know, she’s nowhere to be found but her horse was abandoned by a cabin along with her gunbelt. Where the hell is she?!”

Dutch marches over and he and Bill grab Arthur and force him off of Micah.

“Arthur! What is going on here?” Dutch demands.

“My wife, Dutch! My wife is missing and this maggot knows where she is!”

“That’s a damn lie! I have no more idea where she is more than anyone else here! For all we know, she’s the one feeding information to the Pinkertons.”

“Really?” Sadie says, holding a repeater in her hands. “Because she told me that if anyone’s a rat, it’s you.”

“That’s exactly what someone who is double crossing us would say!” Micah says, smiling to everyone else. “The fingers are pointing at me because I’ve been here the shortest amount of time.”

“I’ve been here less time,” Charles says defiantly, “and I’m not being accused, nor is anyone else. Of course, I haven’t been the one sneaking off at odd times every few days.”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Micah hisses. “For all we know, she’s talking to the law right now, telling them right where we are!”

Arthur bares his teeth, still being held back by Bill, but before he can say anything, Uncle steps forward. “That girl’s been here ten years, and she’s married to Arthur. Why would she sell out her own family?”

“Don’t ask me to try and make sense of the traitor’s mind, old man, there ain’t no logic in there. Dutch,” Micah turns to him, almost begging for him to side with him. “I reckon she’ll saunter in here later tonight. The moment she does, we should question her.”

Dutch is narrowing his eyes, thinking. Arthur grabs his attention.

“Dutch, why would she betray us? What does she have to gain from doin’ that?”

“Maybe a sackload of money, cowpoke. I reckon for the right price, she’d leave your bed,” Micah growls.

That does it and Arthur yanks himself free, launching himself onto Micah. “You son of a bitch! You slimy snake!” He starts punching and hitting Micah, but Charles, Bill and John have to work together to pull him off again. Micah spits out a gob of blood.

“He’s crazy, Dutch. See? I bet he’s in league with her!”

“Shut up, Micah!” John snarls. “If anyone’s got a price to betray us, it’s you! You were the one who put us onto the Blackwater heist, and them Pinkertons have been onto us since you got back from Guarma.”

“Why would I sell you out?” Micah snaps.

“Because you have the most to gain from us all dyin’,” Sadie snarls, pointing her repeater at Micah.

“Enough!” Dutch says. “Micah, do you or do you not know where Y/N is?”

“Of course not, Dutch. Last time I saw her was here in camp yesterday.”

“I saw you leaving camp early this morning,” Charles says. “Where’d you go?”

“I was scouting.”

“Again? But you did that yesterday,” John points out.

Dutch furrows his brow. “Micah, why would you be scouting? We’re not looking to leave here yet until we have more money. There’s still been no word on the army’s train to fix the bridge, so why are you scouting?”

“Because we will need to be leaving eventually, Dutch, why not learn the best route now?”

“Because there’s no point to it until we have a way out of here,” Dutch says. Micah can tell Dutch is starting to see through his lie.

“Look, I can prove to you I’m not the rat. I’ll go hunt Y/N now, once I find her I’ll bring her right back and you can all question her yourselves.”

Dutch sighs but nods once. “You have six hours, Micah. Find her, bring her straight back here.”

Arthur throws Bill, Charles and John off him. “I’m goin’ too.”

“I ain’t takin’ you, cowpoke.”

“I don’t wanna go with you, Micah!” Arthur roars. “But she’s my wife, I’m gonna go look for her!”

Before anyone else can say anything, Arthur mounts up. To his surprise, Charles and John mount up as well.

“We’re coming with you, Morgan,” John says. “We don’t know what kind of trouble she might be in.”

Arthur nods and they all set out. Micah heads in the other direction, opposite of where your cave lies in case someone tries to follow him again.

************************************

You stare at the tin mug of water Micah left behind. You’re desperately thirsty, but you’ve no way to get it and take a drink as you’re still tied up. The binds around your wrists are beginning to rub you raw and your legs are still bleeding, along with the many cuts across your body. You’ve never experienced this much pain in your life.

Outside, you can see the sun is setting again. You haven’t seen Micah since this morning, but you haven’t seen anyone else either. You tried screaming in order to get the attention of a potential passerby, but you screamed yourself hoarse before anyone heard you. What little hope you have left has long since left your body.

Micah marches into the cave, looking furious, his face purpling with bruises.

“Who beat you up, Micah? I wanna send them a thank-you note,” you spit, though your voice is raw.

“Was your good ol’ husband, but I got a little gift for him myself.” Micah slips his knife out. “Change of plans, girl. I was intending to keep you here a long time, but your damn husband is starting to suspect me. Man’s smarter than I give him credit for.”

Micah suddenly grabs your jaw and starts trying to reach in your mouth for your tongue. You thrash around and end up sinking your teeth into his finger, making him cry out. When he pulls out his finger, you see blood.

“Damn it!” he grunts. He wants to make sure you can’t talk, but you’re still putting up quite a fight. He can tell he has to wear you down even more. Putting his knife away, he gives you a disgusted look and then he begins pounding his fist into your face, arms and ribs. After a few moments, he tries wrestling your tongue out again, but you spit blood into his face.

“You little bitch!” he snarls and he pulls his knife out again. He plunges it into the very edge of your abdomen in a place he knows he won’t kill you, but it hurts like hell. You scream out in pain and he yanks the knife out, causing you to sob again.

“Do I have to skin you, bitch?” he growls, trying to wrestle you so he can take your tongue yet again. Still though, you try with all your might to fight him off, biting whatever part of his hand you can reach.

“You think I’m not willing to do the worst to you?” he says. He takes his knife and suddenly grips your face harder than he’s done before. He tilts your head back and holds the point of his knife above your left eye.

You’re just about to beg Micah not to when he suddenly shoots back and up. He flips over and lands with a loud thud, revealing Arthur.

“Get your hands off my wife, you sack of shit,” he growls. He takes one look at you and his face immediately goes from his terrifying scowl to a worried expression. He gestures for John to take his place on pinning Micah down and he comes over to you, slipping his knife out and cutting your bonds off.

“Arthur,” you groan.

“Shh, shh. I got ya, darlin’.”

The moment your arms are free, your body slinks down and he catches you. Once you’re in his arms, he shrugs his coat off and drapes it around you. “I got ya, I got ya.” He looks back at Charles and John. “Get that sack of shit tied up and out of here. I’ll take care of her.”

They nod and do just that. Arthur picks you up gently as he can and brings you outside of the cave and then lays you down on your back beside the river. You try to cry, feeling relieved and finally safe, but you can’t seem to produce any tears.

“Easy, sweetheart. That bastard did a number on you. Gonna get you cleaned up.”

“Arthur,” you whine again, just wanting him to hold you.

“Shh, shh, I know, darlin’, I know. I’ll be gentle as I can.” He unbuttons the bottom of your shirt so he can bandage the big cut, stating Grimshaw can stitch it up. He then inspects your legs. “Shit, bullets are still in there. Darlin’, I’m real sorry about this. But we gotta get you home like this, I can’t get ‘em out.”

You nod stiffly and he lifts you up easily, though painfully. He apologizes profusely, but somehow he manages to get you onto his horse. Although he tries to make the ride gentle, it’s incredibly painful. Each step the horse takes jerks your body. You bury the back of your head into Arthur’s chest, who is still apologizing.

After what feels like an eternity, you see Beaver Hollow come into view. Arthur pats your shoulder gently. “Told you I’d get ya home, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay. Just hang on, okay? We’re gonna skin that bastard.”

The moment Arthur stops his horse, you slump almost lifeless against him. Dutch, Javier and the girls come running over.

“Y/N!” Dutch calls out. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I fucking told you, Dutch! We caught Micah doin’ his best to carve her up! Where is that little shit?”

“He’s tied up near the cave,” Grimshaw says, coming over to the horse. “Come on, let’s get her to bed.”

Javier and Dutch help lift you down, but it’s even more painful than the entire ride back to Beaver Hollow. You let out a cry of pain and they both apologize. Dutch tries picking you up bridal style, but Arthur pushes him out of the way and picks you up, which you prefer. You’ve been mistrustful of Dutch for some time now.

As Arthur carries you, you hear John talking to Micah. “We’re gonna kill you for what you done to her.”

You have a horrible suspicion that none of them know that Micah’s the traitor. “Arthur… Arthur stop. We can’t kill him.”

“What you talking about, darlin’? If anyone’s earned a bullet in their head, he has.”

“I’m not saying we won’t, but not yet,” you say between gritted teeth. “Just not yet.”

Arthur sighs and stops. “Let’s get you to bed first, then you can tell Dutch what you know.”

You don’t have the energy to tell him otherwise, so you let him take you to your tent and lay you down into the cot. Grimshaw comes over, barking orders at the other girls to get supplies to start patching you up. She tries pushing Arthur out, but he refuses to leave so she lets him. Just as she starts trying to get down to work, you stop her with what strength you have left.

“Dutch. Get Dutch,” you say.

Grimshaw rolls her eyes, but complies. Dutch comes over, looking worried.

“Micah…” you say. “Micah’s the rat, Dutch. I saw him talking to Milton. He told them about your plan for the bridge.”

“You say you saw this?” Dutch says. He looks at you hard for a moment. “I want to believe you, Y/N, but I have a problem: Micah says he saw you talking to Pinkertons.”

“Then why’d he torture her?” Arthur demands. “If he’s the innocent one, then why didn’t he bring her here for us to deal with her? Y/N told me last time she was in camp that she was gonna follow him. Next thing we know, she’s tied up in some cave with Micah trying to pull her eyes out.”

“Micah says he did that as payback for her betraying us.”

“The Pinkertons busted me,” you say. “They wanted me dead, but Micah knew… knew if I died, you’d kill him right away, Arthur. Knew his cover would be blown the moment my death was discovered. But he knew he needed to silence me. That’s why he shot my legs, Dutch. Was tryin’ to get me to promise to not say a word.”

“Dutch,” Arthur says, “if she’s the traitor, it wouldn’t make sense for her bein’ the one all tore up like this.”

“I say we do to him what he’s done to her,” Grimshaw snarls. You feel a surge of warmth towards her. Sure, she might have her flaws, but she’s always been protective of you and the other girls. “We’ll get him to talk if he’s the one lying.”

Dutch sighs, but then he nods. “Take him into the cave, get him tied up. Let Charles have at him for a while, then I’ll talk to him.”

With that settled, Grimshaw and the other girls get down to work. They start rooting around in your legs for the bullets, which is so painful that you pass out again, which Arthur is grateful for as he holds your hand. It breaks his heart to see you like this, but at least now you don’t have to be present for the pain.

****************************

Two days have passed and you still haven’t woken. Arthur’s more worried about you than he’s ever been, and he’s more angry. He wanted to be the one to beat Micah senseless, but Dutch pleaded him not to. Dutch wasn’t entirely convinced you were the one telling the truth as Micah had spun his web very well. He figured the others should be the one to question Micah as Arthur was too involved.

Arthur has stayed by your side the entire time you were being worked on, and then long after the girls were done patching you up. Nothing has shaken his anger, but as he sits by your cot holding your hand, Sadie walks up to him.

“Bastard’s dead,” she growled. “He didn’t even get half the shit he did to her before spilling the beans. He’s been talkin’ to them Pinkertons sometime now, he was the one who told them about Saint Dennis.”

Arthur feels a further tightening in his gut. “So Hosea…”

“He’s the one who got Hosea killed, not Molly,” Sadie says, sitting down at the foot of your bed. “Dutch heard the whole thing. He’s the one who shot Micah.”

Arthur sighs, feeling conflicted. While he’s grateful that Micah’s dead, he’s livid that he was the one responsible for Hosea, Lenny and so much trouble.

“Stay strong, Arthur,” Sadie says. “Y/N needs you to be for her. There ain’t nothin’ you can do anyways. It’s over.”

“It ain’t over, Sadie. Dutch might know the truth now, but he’s still crazy. I doubt this will clear his head.”

“Maybe not. I guess all we can do is wait.”

A few more hours pass and the sun sets before you begin to stir. Pain comes slamming back into your body, making you whimper, but Arthur hasn’t moved. He clutches your hand the second he hears you and he begins comforting you.

When you’ve woken up a little more, he tells you everything that’s happened since your return. You feel a surge of relief, and maybe even a little pride that you took a far worse beating than Micah and didn’t break. However, due to the pain and even shock of what could have happened, you’re shaken.

Arthur must be able to see you trembling. Gently as he can, he shifts you so that he can sit right beside you and hold you against his chest. The warmth of his body is a welcome relief as you’re chilled, but it’s the sound of his heart that brings the best form of comfort. As he brushes your hair, you look up at him.

“Thank you for finding me, Arthur. You saved my life.”

He smiles and kisses your head. “Well, you’ve saved me plenty. I still owe you more.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

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