#not much changed from this chapter actually

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 16

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 4.5k

Note : Only two chapters after this!! Honestly these last three chapter will be like an extended epilogue. Small flashbacks are indented! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

"Take Your Shape"

Rebuilding with Yelena had been almost as difficult as rebuilding with Bucky—but for entirely different reasons. With Bucky, the wounds revolved around love. Despite everything, at least he was familiar— at least he still felt like home. 

With Yelena, the fracture was messier, harder to untangle. She was a friend, sure, but she wasn’t nearly as close to you now as she’d been before the memory loss. Everyone kept insisting you two were like sisters, and it drove you mad—not knowing what that actually felt like.

You’d seen glimpses of it, in the video Happy showed you. You saw the two of you laughing, hanging out at the compound, but it wasn't the same. Watching those moments felt like peering into someone else’s life, someone else’s memories with no idea how you got here.

How had you gotten so close, and yet so… distant?

The pang of betrayal still swirled in your chest; she hadn’t warned you, hadn’t given you the truth when you needed it, even after knowing how much it would shatter you. You had craved human connection in the hospital room— maybe that's why you let her stay. But now, with all that anger simmering beneath the surface, you needed much more time to process this alone, and as it turned out, it took much longer than you had expected.

For the next couple of days, you couldn’t get past the fact that the woman who had allegedly been like a sister to you had chosen to keep you unaware of the mountain of lies your boyfriend had built.

Friday.

The first step came one evening, when she showed up at your apartment unannounced. She was standing there, hands shoved into her pockets. A fire of emotion swirled within you— Sadness. Resentment. Hope. 

But above all, you found yourself missing her.

“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let her in. Back in the hospital, when the truth had first come out, you hadn’t had the energy to argue. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, you did. What followed was a long conversation full of starts and stops, accusations and justifications.

“It wasn’t my decision to make,” Yelena said at one point, frustrated. You couldn’t tell if it was aimed at herself or at the situation.

Her words weren't an instant fix, but they planted a seed. Over the next few days, there were more conversations over training. You didn’t hold back your feelings, and to her credit, Yelena didn’t shut down, she didn’t deflect. She didn’t change the topic like she used to. Slowly, you began to see her choices not as malicious but as a misguided form of love manifesting from someone who had gone through so much. It’s poetic, really— how she was a platonic mirror of Bucky.

In the end, she just held back because she didn’t want to be the reason you were hurt. 

And now, knowing all you knew, you couldn’t hold it against her—just as you couldn’t hold a permanent grudge against Bucky. 

Friday, the next week.

The real turning point came when you introduced her to Alex. It hadn’t been part of any grand plan, just a chance encounter. 

You’d been out for coffee with Alex— catching up after the museum closed— when you spotted Yelena heading toward you on the street. There was a flicker of hesitation—a moment when you weren’t sure whether she’d stop or walk on by. But Alex, ever vigilant, recognised her from the photos you showed her and sensed your tension. So Alex, ever the diplomat, had stepped in with a warm smile, bridging the gap before it could grow too wide.

“Why don’t you join us?” Alex had offered.

Yelena hesitated, glancing at you, “I guess I could spare a minute,” she nodded.

A minute stretched into an hour. 

At first, Yelena sat stiffly, her words overly careful. But Alex had a way of breaking down walls without anyone realizing it was happening. She leaned into Yelena’s stories, genuinely interested. Alex laughed in all the right places, continued to moderate the conversation just when you thought it was ending.

Both you and Yelena began sharing training mishaps, laughing like old times again. In return, Alex shared stories of things that happened in the museum after you left, like the time she accidentally dropped a fossilized dinosaur tooth during a museum tour and had to convince the students it was a fake (she had broken it, of course).

After a while, you found yourself sitting back, sipping your coffee, watching them as though you were an outsider. There was something so gratifying about seeing Yelena, usually so guarded, taking a liking to a civilian friend of yours.

Later, as you and Alex walked back, she turned to face you.

“I can see why you keep Yelena around, after everything,” Alex said, “Though she’s a little... intense.”

“She’s the kind that grows on you,” you replied. For the first time in a while, you felt a sisterly warmth grow in your heart for the Russian.

This must be how it felt like the first time— when you joined the avengers and got close to her.

Alex nudged your shoulder playfully. “I like her.”

Thursday, the next week.

Much to your surprise, Yelena and Alex only grew closer from then on. 

Their friendship seemed effortless, almost as though they’d known each other for years. It reminded you of why you’d been drawn to Yelena in the first place: it was her wit, her stubborn charm that kept you both on edge.

Seeing Alex bring out that side of her so easily felt like watching two puzzle pieces click into place.

The weekly lunches at the diner soon became a ritual. The first time, Yelena had scrutinized the laminated menu with a dramatic sigh before declaring, “This place better not kill me.” Predictably, she’d found something to complain about. “The eggs are overcooked, the toast is cold, and the coffee tastes like dishwater.” She’d said it with such exaggerated disdain (in a thick Russian accent) that even Alex had giggled.

“I think it's charming” Alex had replied, which earned her one of Yelena’s rare, unguarded smiles.

After that, every Thursday, like clockwork, the three of you crammed into the same corner booth, under the same faded mural of a desert highway. Over time, those lunches became a refuge from whatever was going on that week— whether it was a mission gone wrong or some exhibition that needed long hours to set up. These days were always filled with teasing banter, long-winded stories, and the occasional vulnerable heart-to-heart conversation.

Slowly but surely, you could feel the cracks between you and Yelena mending, the tension that had once boiled over dissipating like sea foam. Forgiveness, you realised, wasn’t a singular event, but a collection of moments— of these moments.

Thursday, the next week. 

One Thursday, as the three of you stayed long after the plates had been cleared, Yelena leaned back in her seat, one arm draped over the backrest, suspiciously close to Alex’s shoulders. “You know,” she said, twirling her coffee spoon, “if I’d known Alex was this entertaining, I would’ve stolen her from you a long time ago.”

Alex tilted her head to look at her playfully. “I don’t think you could handle me full-time.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably right.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out.

That day, before going your separate ways, Yelena raised her coffee cup. “Here’s to second chances.”

You hesitated, a flicker of pride behind your eyes, before lifting your own cup. “To second chances,” you echoed, the clink of ceramic against ceramic feeling like a momentous occasion.

Thursday, two months later.

The chatter of the diner hummed around the three of you, a comforting backdrop of clinking plates, shuffling waitstaff, and the faint melody of Motown playing through the speakers

The tension that had once defined your interactions with Yelena, born from everything that had happened with Bucky, now seemed faded. In a way, it had been completely repaired by these weekly lunches.

Across the table, Alex was mid-story, her fork waving through the air as she recounted her new kitten’s latest reign of terror.

“And then she destroyed the blinds,” Alex said with a dramatic flourish she used in museum tours.

Yelena chuckled, her chin propped on her hand as she watched Alex with a mix of amusement and intrigue. Maybe even affection.

But sure enough, the lull in Alex’s story gave her the opening she needed. She turned to face you, tilting her head.

“So,” Yelena began, “what’s going on with you and Bucky?”

The shift in conversation was sudden, but you weren’t surprised. Yelena was nothing if not direct, and she had a way to steer the conversation in whichever way she pleased.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, her fork freezing mid-air, curious. “Oh, good question,” she said eagerly. “You haven’t really talked about him much lately. Are you two… okay?” 

You hesitated, your fingers absently picking at the corner of your napkin as you considered how you should answer. “We’re… figuring it out,” you said finally. 

Yelena raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s vague,” she said, skeptical. “Try again.”

Surprising even yourself, you laughed, setting the napkin aside as you leaned back in your seat. “It’s just… complicated,” you insisted, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“Now that’s more interesting,” Yelena smiled softly. “Go on.”

Alex leaned in too, her elbows on the table. “Start from the beginning,” she said, grinning. 

You sighed, but there was no malice in it. “Fine,” you relented as your thoughts drifted to the past few months. 

“I told you about the dinner, right? The day I came home?”— they both nodded— “Well, the next day, he asked if he could come over for coffee. I almost said no—But… I agreed.”

Yelena made a soft, approving sound, “And?”

“And,” you continued, smiling faintly, “he showed up with two cups from that little café down my street. You know, the one with the crawling plants? We sat across the kitchen table, and it was like we were strangers on a first date. It was… weird, but not bad. We just talked. About music, about books, about how he wanted to start swimming more. It felt…” You trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Normal?” Alex offered, her tone gentle.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Normal.”

The knock at the door was soft, almost hesitant, like Bucky was giving you time to change your mind, to pretend you weren’t home anymore. For a moment, you just stared at the door.  You needed this. No, you wanted this.  You wanted him.  When you opened the door, you saw Bucky leaning on his heels with two coffee cups in his hands, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. His hair was tied back, and his leather jacket looked just a little too warm for the season. “Hey,” he said, offering a small, nervous smile as he held up the cups like a peace offering. “I, uh, I know you ran out of ground coffee at home so I got your favorite. Unless you don’t want your favourite. In which case—” “I want it,” you interrupted, an exhausted smile on your face, “Thank you, Bucky.” His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Good. That’s good.” You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. The air felt heavier inside, the awkwardness wrapping around you both like a scarf wrapped too tightly around your neck. Bucky followed you into the kitchen, setting the cups down on the table and pulling out a chair before glancing at yo. You sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He slid into the chair across from you, his metal fingers tapping lightly on the edges of the table. For a moment, it was painfully quiet, the silence stretching long enough for the faint hum of the fridge to fill the room. You stared at the coffee cups, fiddling with the coasters. “Thank you,” he started, running a hand over his face. “For giving me a second chance.” You sipped your coffee, watching him over the rim of the cup. He was trying. You could see it in the way his fingers fidgeted, the way his eyes flickered up to meet yours and then darted away again— he was bracing for rejection. “You did ask nicely,” you said finally with a teasing chuckle, as if saying ‘you’re okay. You’re not crossing a line.’ The tension wasn’t gone, but you both had eased it last night.  He winced, unsure of what to make of your dry humour. “You brought coffee.” you offered a shy smile. “That’s something,” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Baby steps,” he said softly. As you settled back into your chair, the conversation began to flow. It was hesitant at first, but soon enough, you were talking about music, about the book you started reading when he left last night, about how he was thinking of taking up swimming again because, "it might be nice to feel weightless for a bit.” It felt… strange, but also familiar. It was the kind of moment you didn’t realize you needed until it was happening. And even all the awkwardness and the lingering edges of frustration, it felt normal. As you finished your coffee, you caught him glancing at you, the tiniest hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Just… thanks for letting me come over.”

Yelena leaned back. “So, he’s trying to win you back with caffeine and small talk?”

Your laugh came easier this time, the tension in your chest easing. “Something like that.”

Encouraged by their attention, you went on.

“There are still nights when he texts me late, confessing that he’s been pacing for hours, anxious about me— about us. At first, it scared me. I didn’t know how to help, didn’t know if I even could. But now…” You paused, gathering your thoughts. “Now I call him. I stay on the line. I let him talk, let him share pieces of himself he wouldn’t've told me otherwise. It’s hard to hear sometimes but it feels important. Like he’s finally trusting me.”

“And do you talk to him about… your stuff too?” Alex asked. 

You nodded, the memory of those late-night conversations blooming a warmth in your chest. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can. Vulnerability isn’t just a one-way street, and we’ve….we’re both still learning.”

One night, you were jolted awake by a string of text notifications. You checked— it was all from Bucky. I can’t sleep. Been pacing for hours.  Thinking too much. About you. About us. You’d stared at the screen, unsure what to say or do. With a deep breath, you decided to call him.  The phone rang once, then twice, before he picked up. His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in hours. “Hey.” “Hi,” you’d say softly, leaning back against your pillow. “Anxious again?” A small, self-deprecating chuckle would follow. “Yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you?” You lied. “No.” Then you let him talk. At first, it was fragmented—confessions spilling out in pieces. He’d talk about the nightmares, the way he sometimes felt like he didn’t deserve to be loved. “It’s like…” he’d say one night, voice cracking just enough to make your chest ache, “I keep waiting for the day you’re gonna wake up and realise I’m not worth it. That this—” a pause, a sharp inhale “—that I’m too much.” Your heart broke, but you didn’t interrupt. You’d learned not to. Instead, you stayed on the line, letting him speak until the silence between his words grew longer, like the storm in his head was finally passing. “Bucky,” you said when the quiet stretched too long. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right? I gave you a second chance because you’re worth it.” His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. “I’m trying to believe that.” And slowly, he was. Somewhere along the way, you started sharing your struggles too.  One night, you admitted, “I still feel guilty for not being able to remember. I— I feel like I’m never going to live up to the expectations that people have of me. Like I’m never going to be enough ever again.” Bucky had gone quiet, and for a moment you worried that you’d said too much. But then his voice came through, “You’re more than enough. I don’t know I’ve told you that recently, but you are.” That night, you cried after hanging up—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of being heard. Your relationship wasn’t perfect. You both still stumbled, still had moments where the walls crept back up. But those late-night calls had become a lifeline, a place where both of you could be messy and imperfect and still… safe.

Alex’s eyes were thoughtful, Yelena’s lips pressing into a contemplative line.

You cleared your throat, “But it’s not all heavy, I promise. We’ve been going on more dates again— like walking through the city or grabbing dinner at places we used to love. He’s even started leaving little notes around my apartment. Cute stuff, like reminding me to take care of myself when he’s not there.”

This time around, dating Bucky was like rediscovering a book you used to love—familiar, comforting, but still filled with moments that could surprise you. The casual dates were your favourite. As you walked down the streets together, the bustling noise always felt muted. He always made a show of remembering little things—pointing out the bookstore where you’d once spent hours, or stopping by a food truck where you’d apparently eaten a ridiculous number of tacos one summer. You didn’t remember, of course, but you trusted him.  Dinner dates were no less charming. Bucky had a knack for choosing the right place—not too fancy, just enough character. “You deserve something better than just takeout,” he’d said once. You could see the effort in every small gesture: how he’d pick up your favourite dessert on the way back home, or how he made sure you had no training drills the next morning when he planned a late night. And then there were the notes. It came after the first month, when you gave him the spare key to your apartment again. The first one caught you off guard, a scribbled “Hey, don’t forget to eat lunch today” stuck to the fridge. You’d smiled, shaking your head, and tucked it into a drawer. But they kept coming. Little scraps of paper, each one carrying a piece of him—gentle reminders, sweet compliments, even terrible doodles that made you laugh until your sides hurt. One morning, after a particularly late mission, you’d found one stuck to your door: “Proud of you. Rest—you earned it.”

Yelena’s brow arched, intrigued.

“One morning,” you continued, the smile on your face growing, “I forgot my jacket, and he showed up at the training ground with it. Didn’t say much, just handed it over. He bought like four of my favourite chocolate bars and stuffed them in my pocket.”

It had been a long, cold morning at the training ground. You’d left in a rush, forgetting your coat. You mentioned it to Bucky when you ran into him in the kitchen that morning, beating yourself up mentally for being forgetful— a particularly touchy subject for you. It was just your luck that Clint had prepared to do outdoor training. You spent the first hour of drills shivering in the cold. You weren’t expecting him to show up—Bucky had been busy with his own schedule—but there he was, standing by the edge of the field with your jacket draped over his arm. He didn’t say much, just walked over, handed it to you, and nodded. But when you slipped it on, your hands brushed against something bulky in the pockets. Curious, you reached in and pulled out not one, but four of your favourite chocolate bars, the wrappers crinkling as you stared at him. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he said casually, knowing how much forgetting had upset you. “Bucky…” you began, but he just shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as if to downplay the gesture. “Don't make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile. But it was a big deal. Not because of the chocolates, not even the jacket, but because of the way you realised he truly cared. That night, when you found another note tucked into the chest pocket—“you’re enough, even when you forget”— you couldn’t stop smiling.

“That’s sweet,” Alex let out a small chuckle. “He’s really trying, isn’t he?”

“So am I,” you nodded, though your voice was quieter now.

Yelena hummed, finally breaking her silence. “Sounds like progress,” she said in approval, “Though I’m still surprised you haven’t kissed him yet,” Yelena remarked, leaning back in the booth, arms crossed like she owned the place.

“We’re taking our time,” you rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to rush into something just because it’s familiar.”

Yelena hummed, playfully scrutinizing. “Must be hard,” she said, her voice wrapped with faux sympathy. “Especially because he follows you around the compound with those big, stupid puppy dog eyes.”

Alex, who’d been happily munching on her toast, choked on a laugh. “Really?”

You scoffed, but your cheeks warmed ever so slightly. “We’re still rebuilding,” you replied, brushing off the teasing, pretending it didn’t hit closer to home than you wanted to admit.

Yelena’s eyebrows softened at your words, her sharp wit momentarily dulled by concern.“Speaking of your little ‘rebuilding phase’... let’s talk about this mission you’re going on with him tomorrow.”

Alex perked up immediately. “Mission? Oh, is this classified?” she teased, holding up her hands like she’d been caught eavesdropping. “Should I, like, cover my ears or something?”

“Relax, Alex,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just a standard recon mission. Nothing exciting.”

Yelena stirred her coffee as if it had committed a crime. “What was Sam thinking? Pairing you two up now of all times? While you’re still… patching things up. He should’ve sent you with Torres instead. That guy’s boring enough—gets the job done, no drama.”

“Torres isn’t boring,” you protested, half-defensive, half-amused, knowing Sam would smack her upside in the head for talking about his friend that way. “He’s just… new, still a little shy. Give him a break.”

“Whatever,” Yelena waved her spoon dismissively. “He’d still be less of a potential disaster than you and Bucky.”

“We’re not a ‘disaster,’ Yelena,” you leaned forward, narrowing your eyes at her. “Besides, I think this mission is going to be good for us. Working together again… it’s what we need, it’s like testing a boundary together, y’know?”

Yelena raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue further, though you could tell from her expression she wasn’t entirely convinced.

But you didn’t need her to be. You were genuinely excited for this mission. It wasn’t just a test of trust—it was a step forward, a small chance to rediscover yourselves together. 

“Fine.” Yelena sighed, finally relenting. “But if you two screw it up, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

Alex shook her head at this mission talk. She wasn’t in this world, but she appreciated it. In time, she might even grow to understand it. But for now, she raised her coffee cup with a grin. “Here’s to testing boundaries!”

You clinked your cup against hers with a small laugh, stealing a glance at Yelena, whose smile had now returned. 

“To testing boundaries,” you said, more to yourself than anyone else.

The bell above the diner’s door chimed as Bucky stepped inside. You spotted him immediately, his broad shoulders framed by the doorway, his hair slightly tousled from the wind outside.

“Speak of the devil,” Yelena muttered under her breath, sipping her coffee. She had not even bothered lowering her voice.

Alex, ever the peacemaker, nudged Yelena with her elbow. “Play nice,” she whispered. Then, she turned toward Bucky with an exaggerated wave. “Hi, Bucky!”

You rolled your eyes at Alex’s enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help smiling as Bucky made his way over. 

“Hey,” he greeted the table, his voice low and warm, his eyes affectionately landing on you.

“Hey you,” you greeted softly.

Yelena leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. “Tin Man finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

Bucky smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he slid his hands out of his jacket pockets. “Nice to see you too, Yelena,” he replied evenly, his tone carrying just the right amount of dry humour.

Alex, clearly enjoying herself, leaned forward. “You know, for people who fought about what’s best for her for months, you two are surprisingly civil.”

Bucky gave Alex a polite smile, while Yelena groaned and gestured playfully. “Oh, please. I was always civil. He’s the one who—”

“Not here,” you cut in quickly, “We’re not doing this here.”

Yelena held up her hands in surrender. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave, besides,” she said with a knowing shrug, “I think Bucky’s here to steal you away from us.”

At that, Bucky finally looked into your eyes. “If that’s alright,” he said, his voice quiet but hopeful.

Before you could respond, Yelena waved her hand dismissively. “Fine. Borrow her. But bring her back in one piece, Barnes.”

You stood, smoothing the front of your shirt, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your chest as you slid out of the booth. “I’ll see both of you soon,” you said.

After waving a goodbye, Bucky held the door open for you, the chill of the wind pricking on your skin. 

He glanced at you hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

“Hot chocolate?” You asked.

“Hot chocolate,” he confirmed, holding out a hand. It was a simple gesture, but something about it felt significant. His flesh hand—not the metal one—hovered in the space between you, waiting patiently. For a moment, you caught the faintest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Then you reached for him.

His hand was warm, his palm slightly rough against yours. When your fingers intertwined, it felt… solid. Right. Like the two of you were anchoring each other in the moment. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand. It wasn’t the first time you’d held hands with him, but it felt like the first time since everything— since the fractures, the distance. 

“Is this okay?” Bucky’s eyes softened, his lips curving into a small, private smile, one meant just for you. 

“It’s perfect.”

-to be continued...

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[romanteacism]

A Butterfly and A Dragon’s Flight Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: Avenging a person you abhor is quite confounding, is it not? Word Count: 6, 247 Warnings: Protective Aemond, Mentions of Violence, Bullying, Confusion

Prince Aemond passed by Lady Elinora a few times the following day. The girl completely changed as she disregarded and ignored the prince each time they passed one another. Aemond was still amused at her offense toward him. He lingered along the courtyard and saw her pass through the halls as she was on her way to the gardens to have tea with Helaena. Lady Elinora still carrying the jar that housed her rescued butterfly. 

As the girl stepped into the gardens, the butterflies quickly found her, accompanying her whenever she was near flowers. “Good morrow, Princess Helaena,” Elinora greeted with a curtsy as a squire assisted her to her seat. “What is that?” Helaena questioned as she saw what Elinora was carrying. “A butterfly, princess. I’m nursing it back to health,” Elinora answered, not including the reason why the pretty insect was injured. “Oh… poor thing,” Helaena hummed and inspected the jar further. “Once, I had a spider who lost two of its legs, and my brother Aemond helped me nurse it back to health… it went to live on for two years,” The princess smiled, but Elinora tried hard to hide her frown. 

Why would the prince call what she was doing ridiculous when he, too, had rescued an insect before? Could he perhaps be calling her ridiculous and not her actions? That placed a further dampness in her mood. 

The two went on with their tea, with Elinora trying with all her might to forget about Prince Aemond and the offensive comment he uttered the other day, but it seemed impossible as the prince then appeared in their presence. “Brother… are you to join us?” Princess Helaena questioned, and Elinora twiddled with her hair, prying that he was only passing by. 

Aemond glanced towards the girl, who did not even give him a glance, an urge to smirk in triumph overcoming him. The prince nodded and sat between the girls, who sat across from one another. There was a tense silence, and Elinora traveled her gaze to anywhere but the prince’s direction. 

“I’m surprised you could join us, brother. Is it not the hour of your reading?” Princess Helaena questioned as she poured tea into her brother’s cup. Aemond hummed and shrugged, turning to Lady Elinora, who refused to meet his eye. She was the only one who could actually hold his gaze— before, everyone could not meet him in the eye, which is probably why Aemond was stunned at first, as she did not cower away from his eye. Now that she did what all others did, there was a hint of disappointment in the prince. 

“I— if you would have to excuse me… I forgot that I must attend to some business my mother had ordered me earlier.” Elinora suddenly said and abruptly stood as she could not handle the prince's stare. “Thank you for tea, princess,” She smiled and curtsied before taking the jar that housed the injured butterfly into her clammy hand and hastily walking away. 

Aemond raised his brow at the girl’s obvious lie. “That’s a shame,” Helaena muttered quietly and stirred the contents of her cup. Aemond could only hum as the scent of lilac and bergamot still lingered in the air. 

“I’m surprised you want to watch me train… do you not detest violence, sister?” Edward questioned as he polished his sword, Elinora by his side, holding her jar as she uncharacteristically joined her brother in the tiltyard. The girl gave a small smile and shrugged, “I do not have that much to do,” she said quietly. Edward turned to her, his forest green eyes glancing at what his sister carried. “Another rescue? What happened to that one?” He questioned, used to his sister’s habit of rescuing the butterflies that had followed her ever since she was a mere tot. 

“Just an injury; I’m hoping she’ll recover fully,” Elinora smiled. “And how are you so certain that it’s a female?” Her brother questioned as Elinora followed him to a sparring dummy. “Well, you see, for monarch butterflies, the males have a thinner vein pattern, while the females, like her, have more prominent and thicker veins,” Elinora informed and raised the jar to her brother’s eyes for him to see what she was referring to. Edward smiled at his sister, “What a scholar you are, sister. Very well then, why don’t you head on there with your little rescue and watch me train— would not want you to be injured as well,” Elinora was nudged towards a half wall a few meters away from her brother, and she perched herself upon it as she watched him spar. 

“Do not even think of it, Aegon,” Aemond warned as he found himself venturing to tiltyard with his brother. Both of them were quick to spot Lady Elinora, who was perched atop the half wall, clutching the jar of the injured butterfly to her abdomen and her dress fluttering as she swung her legs. “There is nothing wrong in making friends, brother,” Aegon rolled his eyes. 

“I agree, there is nothing wrong with making friends— but you do not see her as a friend, now do you?” Aemond questioned, and a sinister smirk rose to Aegon’s lips. “Prey— friend, they're all the same,” Aegon shrugged and moved to come closer to the girl, but his brother took hold of the color of his tunic, hindering him. “She is already Helaena’s friend,” Aemond said stoically as he glanced towards Lady Elinora, who was seemingly oblivious to all the stares she garnered from those who trained in the tiltyard. Instead, she was completely focused on the butterfly that Aemond had injured. 

“She can use another friend— now, let go, you twat!” Aegon grumbled, but his younger brother only tightened his hold. “You will not come near Lady Elinora, do you understand? You have already cost our sister tens of handmaidens and companions— you will not take another from her.” Aemond bitterly and threateningly whispered in Aegon’s ear. Instead of agreeing, Aegon scoffed and dusted himself off as his brother finally let go. “What do you care anyway? What’s another lost potential friend to Helaena— she’s used to being alone,” Aegon grumbled and turned to his prey to make certain she was still there. 

Aemond gritted his jaw and shook his head, refraining from giving in to his urge to turn violent against his brother. Before Prince Aegon could take another step toward the girl, his name was called. “Prince Aegon, the queen asks for you— she is in the king’s chambers.” Ser Criston then interjected. Aegon frowned and turned to Elinora once more, the small smile on her lips as she watched her brother train too irresistible for him. “Tell her I’ll be there in a moment,” Aegon distractedly muttered. 

“She calls for you now— says it’s a matter of urgency.” Cole insisted, glancing towards his favored pupil, who stared harshly at his older brother. Aegon grumbled and sighed, brushing against his brother as he retreated and walked toward the direction of the king’s chambers. 

“He wasn’t summoned, was he?” Aemond questioned the knight, and a small smirk came to Cole’s face, a knowing look in his eyes as Aemond looked upon Lady Elinora. A scowl presented itself on the prince’s face as he realized the look in the knight’s eyes. He was to speak, but Ser Criston spoke first. “I know… you’re not being kind— you’re not motivated by kindness,” The knight uttered as the younger prince continued to scowl at him. 

Elinora hummed as she continued to watch her brother train, growing slightly bored, but luckily, Edward abruptly stopped his sparing as he noticed eyes on his sister. Knights, squires, lords, and even a prince were consistently stealing a glance in his sister’s direction. “That was quick,” Elinora remarked as her brother hastily dropped his sword and assisted her to step down from the half wall she was perched upon. 

“Come, let’s get you back to your chambers,” Edward ignored his sister’s remark. “But I have nothing to do there,” She said lowly. “Then what about a round of cards?” Edward offered as they passed the prying eyes of men; Edward would surely be chastised by their parents if he did not remove his sister from such situations.

 “Really?” Elinora asked in hope; she was not allowed to play cards; it was too unladylike. “We could even play for money… just don���t say a word to mother and father when I win all your pocket money again.” Edward smiled at how such a simple thing could quickly excite his sister. “That was one time! And you said you’d let me win, but you lied!” Elinora frowned slightly as her brother only laughed at her expense. Edward sighed and glanced behind him to see lords eyeing his sister as they passed. “Come on, hurry— we could at least have three rounds before supper,” 

“How are you finding court?” He questioned as he laid his cards between the two of them. “It’s… different,” She said, her voice distant as she was in full focus on trying to beat her brother. “A good different?” He asked further, amused by the focused expression on Elinora’s face—how there was a slight furrow between her brows and how her tongue slightly darted out of her lips. Elinora’s past Septas tried hard for her to be rid of such habits, but they never prevailed. 

“I… don’t know. I like Princess Helaena and her company very much, but the other ladies in the court do not seem to be keen on me,” Elinora admitted as she finally laid down her cards. “Hm, everyone has their own time… but what about the lords?” He slyly asked as he was quick to place down a new set of cards, Elinora sighing heavily at how good her brother was at the game. “I do not know— I am yet to interact with them.” She said in truth. “Really? What about the princes?” Edward pried further, overly concerned about how the men in court shamelessly eyed his sister as if she were prey. 

“I—“ Elinora trailed as her mind conjured up her interaction with Prince Aemond. “Again, brother, I am yet to interact fully with them. They are pleasing and cordial; they greet me when I pass, but that is all.” She fibbed, chewing on her lips as she placed down her cards. “Very well then… but I urge you to tell me or mother or father when one of the lords or princes gets too close for comfort,” Edward warned, and Elinora mindlessly nodded. 

When a new day broke, Elinora was predictably in the gardens again. She held on tightly to the jar that housed the butterfly she had nursed back to health, having the intention to set it free later that day so it could join its flight. Elinora was walking alone in the gardens, minding her own business, but still smiled at those who passed her. 

“There’s that freak,” A court lady whispered to her group as she spotted Lady Elinora in the distance, walking along the cobblestone path. “Did you hear that Prince Aegon is intent on her being his Royal Mistress once he ascends the throne? That was supposed to be me!” A lady from house Torrent said in frustration and great jealousy. “That dirty whore! Everyone thinks she is so innocent and kind, but she’s just a devious snake in the grass!” A friend of her’s exclaimed. “Why not teach her a lesson then? Come, let us show her a proper welcome, ladies… let’s see if she’ll still be smiling.” 

Aemond frowned slightly as he had been privy to the conversation of the ladies of the court. He once again found himself in the gardens for whatever reason, just in time to catch Lady Elinora walking along the cobblestone path.

Aemond began to think of their words. Was there truth in it? Will Aegon truly make her his whore once he is crowned king? Not only dishonoring his wife and sister but Lady Elinora as well. As much as Aemond disliked Lady Elinora, he did not think her innocence or naivety was a ploy. Ser Criston informed him of how sheltered she was, with this being the only instance she had left the towering walls of Highgarden. Never exposed to the cruelties of the world. And by how Lady Elinora cowered before his brother, the obvious sign of discomfort in her jade eyes as he was too near for comfort made him believe she had no intention of snaking her way into Aegon’s bed. 

Aemond was brought out of his reverie when he heard glass breaking, a startled gasp, and women cruelly laughing. 

Elinora held back tears as she was shoved to the harsh ground, almost landing on the shards of glass. The butterfly she had nursed back to health crushed under the translucent shards and tore its orange wings. She took in a deep breath, her lips quivering, and she was near to tears, but she reminded herself that ladies are not allowed to show such saddened emotions outside the privy of their chambers, or if ever. So, she took in large breaths to try and calm herself and pry herself off the ground. 

The sun that shone down on her grew obscure by the shade of a figure; Elinora hesitantly looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, only to be met with Prince Aemond leading out his hand for her to take. She did so hesitantly, in another dimension of embarrassment as the prince caught her in such a state. As she stood, she looked anywhere except the prince’s eye, shame consuming her. 

“What happened?” Prince Aemond questioned even though he perfectly knew the answer. He cast his gaze upon the ground; the butterfly Lady Elinora had cared for was now completly dead as it was crushed by the broken glass. Her gown was also torn by the side, fraying the delicate stitches. “I— I tripped,” Elinora said, not wanting him to know how she was picked on by the ladies of the court. Aemond raised his gaze, expecting to meet her jade eyes, but she simply looked towards the distance. Aemond could not take hold of himself as he raised his hand to grasp the lady’s chin and force her to meet his eye. “You lie.” He stated, never removing his touch on the girl’s skin. 

Elinora blinked, her tears threatening to escape her eyes as she was accused of lying by the prince. “No point in denying it; I’ve seen it with my own eye,” He said lowly, and Elinora slightly frowned. “If— If you saw it, why ask me what happened?” She questioned, finally gaining sensibilities and stepping away from the prince, effectively removing his hold on her chin. Aemond shrugged, turning his gaze on the fallen butterfly once more. “It’s dead,” he commented, surprised at how quick you were to crouch down and take the deceased butterfly into your hands. Brushing away the shards of glass, risking to cut herself. 

“It’s dead; leave it be,” Aemond said as he caught sight of her sullen face, guilt evident in Elinora’s eyes. “Again, it’s just a butterfly, my lady.” Aemond sighed once more, looking along the gardens to see if any spectators were watching; miraculously, there was none. “Maybe to you, it’s just a butterfly,” Elinora muttered as she moved to walk away from the prince, but he took hold of her arm before she could move away from him further. 

“Where are you going?” Aemond questioned, “To give it a funeral.” Elinora said plainly, completely forgetting the humiliation she had suffered just moments earlier. “The butterfly?” The prince asked incredulously. He had witnessed the love his sister had for her bugs, but never once had she gone to the fuss of properly mourning them. “Yes.” Elinora nodded and walked off, the prince trailing behind her. Aemond tried to find a reason— a reason that was enough to justify the actions she was doing just to service a mere butterfly. 

Aemond followed Lady Elinora to the edge of a pond, both of them silent as her eyes scanned for a leaf big enough to hold the dead butterfly. As Aemond guessed what she was looking for, he sighed and shook his head. He was the one to retrieve a leaf from a tree branch, silently handing it to her. Fingers brushed as she took the leaf and leaned down towards the pond to let it float upon the water. She gently placed the fallen insect atop it. Elinora blew on the leaf and watched it glide to deeper waters, standing at her full height next to the prince. “Would you like to say a few words?” Aemond asked sardonically, and Lady Elinora threw him her most scathing look that only made Aemond snicker internally. 

“Why do you care so much about a mere butterfly?” Aemond then broke the silence, looking towards Lady Elinora, whose eyes were planted towards the pond. She licked her lips and sighed. “You have a dragon, do you not?” She questioned, and Aemond nodded. “You love your dragon, yes?” Aemond frowned slightly. “I suppose,” he added. “You love your Vhagar because she had been bound and bonded with you since you were young,” she stated, and the prince nodded again. 

“That is how exactly I feel about butterflies. You might think them of lesser creatures… no actual use, just pretty fluttering things, but they had been my constant companion since I was a child,” Elinora informed, twiddling with her hair as she revealed a part of herself to the prince. “As you had seen, try as I might, I was never once to make friends… the butterflies had always been my companions. No matter where I go, a few of them always seem to find their way to me,” She said sadly. 

Aemond wanted to retort the reason why the butterflies followed her was because of the flowers in her hair, but as he saw the sadness in the lady’s eyes and the way how raw her honey voice sounded as she shared with him this facet of herself, the prince held back his tongue. 

“I know you wish to laugh at me, thinking this is ridi—“ She spoke, but the prince suddenly took hold of her arm and made her cease to finish her statement. “You cannot think me to be so cruel,” he said. He was. He’s cruel, everyone thinks it, but his cruelty was only bestowed on those who he sees fit. And at this moment, though he still had his reservations about Lady Elinora, he did not think she was deserving of cruelty, not at this moment, especially as she had just felt it moments ago. 

Aemond felt odd, like he was suddenly out of breath, as she finally gave him her small smile. But the prince quickly regained focus and removed his hold from her arm. “Come, let me escort you back into the castle, lest the ladies find you again.” He cleared his throat, and Elinora could only nod, walking along with the prince in silence until he delivered her back to her chambers. 

“Are you well, sister? It’s almost noon, and you are yet to get out of bed,” Edward asked in concern as his sister was still tucked in her sheets. Elinora was just simply staring out the window, watching as the sun ascended higher into the sky. “Yes, I… I just feel a bit tired,” She lied. She was sad. She was sad about the dead butterfly and how the ladies treated her, but she did not dare to utter it to her brother. 

Edward looked around her chambers, his green eyes searching for a specific object that her sister had been clutching the past days. “Where’s your butterfly?” He asked and sat by the foot of her bed. Elinora blinked, momentarily silent. “I’ve set it free,” She fibbed, and her brother only hummed. Edward scooted closer, placing the back of his hand atop his sister’s forehead to check her temperature. “You’re not warm enough to have a fever,” he muttered, and Elinora shook her head. “I’m not sick, brother… truly, I’m just tired. It would seem our days in court finally caught up to me. I just need a few moments of rest,” she smiled sadly. Edward sighed. “Very well then, I shall inform Mother and Father… but we are expecting you at dinner tonight,” He stated. 

“I’m certain I shall feel better by then,” Elinora smiled, and her brother gave a nod, finally leaving her chambers so she could sit in solitude just as she wished. 

By the other side of the castle, a prince waited by the gardens for a girl who had butterflies trailing her. But as the prince cast his eye upon the near noon sun, he realized that she would not arrive, and she had forgone her usual custom. 

He walked around the gardens once more, catching sight of the court ladies who still snickered amongst themselves at what had transpired yesterday. He thought if he should take action— to seek retribution. However, whatever for? Lady Elinora was not his kin for him to seek revenge or punishment. Nor was she anyone of significance to him. Why, then, did he wish to seek justice in her name? 

Prince Aemond sighed and shook his head to be absolved of such thoughts. But as the ladies’ voices rang louder in his ears and the insults that spewed from their mouths that were aimed at her expense, Aemond knew in himself that he must do something. 

He had a great sense of justice. Something that he had been bereft of since childhood. No justice was given to him as he was cruelly teased and bullied by his brother and nephews, and no justice was served as his eye was taken. He cannot undo the past, and now he was presented with an opportunity to take matters into his own hands, even if the matter did not truly surround him.  And so, Aemond devised a plan. 

Elinora walked with her family to the great hall, where another banquet with all the courtiers took place. Apparently, it was a custom in the Red Keep to hold such a lavish dinner whenever a new courtier arrived or when another went. This time, it was the latter. 

Elinora was guided to her seat by her brother, and she dared not place her gaze on anything but the floor, fearing to catch the eyes of any of the ladies that had shown her such cruelties. 

Elinora did not utter a word; she simply listened to those around her. Courtiers speak of business, the food presented, or the weather. However, one particular conversation caught her interest. “I certain they shall be found, my queen,” She heard the voice of a knight she came to know as Criston Cole, followed by the grievous sigh of the queen. “Those jewels are not only valuable in price, but those are heirlooms passed by my mother… the only memento I have of hers… not to mention the other jewels taken in Helaena’s collection,” She muttered in distress, and Elinora silently wished to know more about the concern of the missing jewels, but she was brought out of her eavesdropping state as her attention was called by her Mother. 

“Sit straighter, my dear… and chin up. Would not want to look like a hunchback.” She said, and Elinora could only do as she was told, straightening her back and finally casting her gaze on anything except the ground. 

When she did, she was quick to lock eyes with a lilac gaze. Aemond saw a bit of shock in her eyes that absolutely amused him, in a lapse of better judgment, with his whole being satisfied as he stirred chaos that was yet to be found; he shot the girl a wink. But after he did so, he realized that he had only one eye, and with the girl unknowing of his intention, Elinora only thought of it as a blink— signaling her to finally look away from the gaze of the prince. 

“Have you found them?” Aemond asked quietly as his mother finally sat on her seat, obviously in distress as precious heirlooms and jewels were lost. “No… and I d—“ the queen abruptly stopped as house Torrent went before their table to curtsy, a glimmer of an object quickly catching her attention. Aemond smirked wickedly and raised his chalice to his lips in order to hide his mischievous grin.

Elinora, along with the whole court, watched in still, tense silence as the queen accused the daughter of House Torrent of stealing her precious jewels. The evidence was hanging around her neck. 

“I am innocent! I— I was only gifted this necklace! Please, Your Majesty, you must believe me!” She pleaded as knights had a hold on both of her arms. Her house looked upon her in horror and repulsion, for how could she steal from the queen? Queen Alicent scoffed. “And pray tell who would gift you my mother’s jewels?” 

Lady Merylle Torrent looked upon the room, looking for someone to pass the blame to. “It came from her!” She exclaimed, pointing to one of her friends who gasped, her hand going to her chest, and she did; the queen caught sighed of a bracelet that belonged to her daughter. “You lying bitch!” The lady exclaimed, and a guard was quick to pull her up from where she stood. “My queen, I swear upon my house that I did not steal any jewels! It… it came from her!” The second accused, lady Cassandra, pointed to their other friend, who had the gull to try and sneak out of the hall, but guards were quick to spot her. 

Elinora turned upon her family, each one of them captivated by the scene. The three ladies who had tormented the girl just the day before stood before Her Majesty, restrained by the royal knights as it would seem a small trial had begun and taken place instead of the dinner. 

Aemond leaned back on his seat, completely enjoying the display. He basked in the fear in the three women's eyes. His mother was usually a pacifist, never one for confrontation, but Alicent surprised her son today. In truth, Aemond thought his mother would discreetly seek them out and then quietly administer their punishments. But now it had blown into a spectacle, which Aemond was thoroughly enjoying. He moved his gaze towards the girl for whom he had done this, the catalyst as to why Aemond sought justice. He would think she would enjoy it as well. Retribution gained as the girl who mistreated her was humiliated, but he only saw pity in her place jade eyes. 

Why? Why would she pity those who had hurt her? Why must she feel sorry for them? 

Aemond was brought out of his questioning thoughts as an argument broke out amongst the group of friends, making Aemond momentarily forget about Lady Elinora’s apprehension as strife brewed further. 

“My queen, we did not steal your jewels! A… a box filled with pieces of jewelry was delivered to my door, and we thought of it as gifts and shared it amongst ourselves!” A lady stated the truth, but all took it as a lie, even the queen, whose judgment would be most imperative in this situation. The queen shook her head, only now remembering that the whole court was watching the entire scene. “Take them to the dungeons, I shall deal with them at a later time,” The queen whispered, and three girls thrashed and screamed as knights dragged them out. 

The queen cleared her throat and flashed a fictitious smile upon her guests as she returned to her seat, her son ready to unfold the second part of the scheme. “You are in no state to handle them, Mother,” He whispered as the feast commenced, those around them trying hard to be rid of the scene they witnessed. “Then what would you have me do?” The queen sighed. “Let me see to it, mother. Thieves are not to go unpunished… no matter their station,” Aemond offered, his eye glancing toward Elinora once more as she pushed around the contents of her plate, pretending to eat. “Very well then… I suppose you’re right,” The queen agreed, and Aemond resisted his urge to smirk. 

“Please, my prince, you must believe us, we did not steal any jewels!” Lady Isabel cried along with her friends as they were in the dungeons with the prince, looking upon them with such cruelty in his lone lilac eye. Aemond smirked as he twisted his dagger in between his fingers, enjoying the look of fear in the ladies' eyes. “Oh, I know,” Aemond said, watching as hope formed in their orbs, but it was quick to fade as the smirk’s wicked smirk widened. “I sent them… and you three were just greedy enough to fall for such traps.” 

“But— but why? What have we done?” Lady Cassandra cried even though Aemond’s intended punishment had not yet begun. He turned his head towards the guards, giving them a nod to release his intended punishment. He watched with his sinister eye as the women were wrapped in fear as tiny insects crawled upon their bodies, their tiny legs striking horror in them. He thought it was an astute punishment, and they laughed at his sister and Elinora about their love of such creatures. 

“Oh, your memories cannot be that short,” Prince Aemond sinisterly said, circling the three girls who twitched through their bounds as spiders and scorpions nestled their way into their dresses. They were non-venomous, of course; Aemond was not that cruel; he just wanted to strike fear into them to make them regret their actions. 

“Please… we do not know what we did! Mercy, my prince, please make it stop!” One of them cried, and Aemond clicked his tongue, shaking his head. His silver hair glimmered through the small light provided by the torch a guard held. “Mayhaps you three would think twice before creating outcasts on those who you call ‘freaks.’” Aemond said lowly, waiting as recognition shone through the fear in their eyes. 

He chuckled as they thrashed further, but their restrictions made it moot. “Speak no word of what transpired here tonight, or a worse fate would befall the three of you… my Vhagar is quite an insatiable beast, it would be a shame to feed her three pathetic ladies to her,” the prince threatened as he left the dungeons with his whole being amused and satisfied as his plan turned out quite nicely. For the first time in his life, he finally acquires justice. It may not be for himself, but still, it was quite satisfying. 

Aemond wasted his time in the gardens again. His sensibilities had not yet had a hold of him as he squandered his free time in a place that he did not care for. But that day, he did have the intention of running into Lady Elinora, hoping she would present him with her thanks as he took the initiative to take revenge in her name. He looked around from where he stood, not seeing a glimpse of Elinora nor the butterflies that were the telltale sign that she was near. 

He shook his head and decided to return to his regular routine, walking towards the library and trying to be rid of the thought of Lady Elinora. He had been acting foolish as of late, and she was the reason for it. Aemond grew enraged with each moment of his realization, his body tense as he entered the silent room, and the reason for his irritation was there, seated by a windowsill reading a book. 

Aemond had the urge to turn back, to retreat and not subject himself to her presence, but he was once again powerless as his feet carried him forward, delivering him to the girl who sat quietly by the corner. “What are you doing here?” He asked, not accustomed to her not being in the gardens. Elinora looked up, confused at the prince’s query. “Reading?” She replied, uncertain as well because with the book in her hands, it would seem to be obvious what her intentions were. 

“You need not hide here,” Aemond stated, looking upon the room that was empty. “I am not hiding, my prince,” Elinora lied, but that seemed to irritate further the quickly irritable prince. “Do not lie, it is unbecoming,” He remarked, and Elinora frowned further. “If you fear the ladies, they shall not bother you anymore… I’ve made certain of it,” The prince smirked, whispering the latter part to himself, but Elinora heard it perfectly. 

“What does that mean?” Elinora questioned, closing her book as she sat straighter to meet the eye of Prince Aemond. “It means you should be grateful, I have solved your dilemma for you.” Elinora’s eyes widened in fear. “Did you cause that? Did you…” She could not even utter what the prince had done. “I did.” The prince said proudly, waiting for the fear to dissolve in Elinora’s eyes and turn into gratitude, but her fear-filled eyes only turned to horror. 

“Why? Why would you do such a thing? They… they did not deserve to be humiliated for a crime they did not commit!” Elinora said in dread, her usual dulcet tone now finding a new voice. Aemond raised his brow at the girl, “I must admit, this is not the thanks I had expected from you.” He stated and Elinora’s face morphed in disgust before she quickly readjusted her expression. Through her mortified state, the chastising voices of her past septas and their teachings still rang in her mind. 

“Thanks? What made you think I would be grateful for such a thing?” Elinora questioned, now standing as she was filled with anxiousness. “Because I had sought out revenge that you are too weak and passive to seek. Honestly, did you not at least feel an ounce of satisfaction as those women who had been cruel to you be humiliated with the eyes of the court upon them?” The prince asked, stepping forward as he had enough of the lady’s ungratefulness. 

“Repaying cruelty with cruelty does nothing, my prince. If anything, I just felt sympathy for them… You cannot fight fire with fire,” Elinora remarked, disregarding the fact that the prince called her weak. Aemond scoffed and shook his head. “And besides… it was not your battle to fight,” She added, voice returning to its usual soft tone. 

“What an ingrate you are, Elinora. I have done you a kindness, and here you are scolding me for it.” She could not believe his words. “That was not kindness… you say it was a selfless action, but it had only benefited and entertained you. As mean as they were, that was something I would never want to befall anyone.” Elinora whispered as she looked away from the prince’s gaze, it was too unnerving to look upon his cold, icy stare. She looked around the room, trying to find a way out, fearing that her reluctance to thank the prince would mean it was her turn to be harmed by him.

“They were deserving of it.” Aemond insisted, but Elinora just sighed. “You are not a god to decide what they do and don’t deserve, my prince.” She said quietly, trying to step to the side as the prince invaded her personal space, their bodies nearly flushing. “You’re right… I’m no god.” Aemond agreed and he relished upon the shocked face of Elinora as she did not expect him to agree to her statement that was meant to bring him back to earth.

“I’m a dragon prince of the realm… you are new to the court, my lady, so I will forgive you in this instance, but best be reminded, there are no gods here, only dragons.” Aemond said with a menacing smirk, lowering his head towards the girl just so his words were clear, but Elinora only shifted her head to move further away, though it was useless as there was nowhere to turn and the prince’s face was only a breath away from her’s. 

Aemond relished in the fear in her eyes, but not in the same way he relished in the fear he saw in the others. His amusement in her fear was not of cruelty but rather just pure mirth. Aemond dared not to move, waiting for the girl to do it in her own accord. They both stood there in silence, one waiting, enjoying the scent of lilac and bergamot, while the other held their breath, not knowing what to do. 

“Is that all?” Elinora finally spoke, the prince clearly amused as he had struck fear in her. Aemond hummed, still not giving her personal space, hypocritical as he did what his brother had done. “Could I go now?” Elinora questioned. “No one is holding to your spot, nor are you restrained. You could have gone earlier if you had wished, my lady.” The prince teased and noticed as scarlet crept to the cheeks of the girl, a pout forming on her lips as she frowned and finally stepped off to the side and left the silent room, leaving the prince smirking without cruelty. 

Tag List: @sapphirevhagar @dahlias-and-marigolds @shygardengalaxy-blog @m-riaa

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Knowing a change of scenery was what your mental health needed, you transferred to where your brother, Mark, goes to college. The good news is, he’s not too cool for his younger sister, so he lets you join his friend group immediately. The bad news is, Haechan is in that friend group, and a brief encounter four years ago was enough for you to understand he does NOT like you. Even worse news, he’s a lot hotter than he was four years ago…

Chapter Fifteen: I'll just ask Mark - four images, 1.5k words - heads up, this chapter deals more with y/n's mental health than previous ones

You were thankful you didn’t have any classes for the rest of the day, because time slipped right by you while at lunch with Haechan. The two of you got sandwiches and coffee from the library café, but when you quickly realized all the tables were taken, you ended up bringing the food back to Haechan’s apartment just a short walk away. This is where time started flying past. The two of you turned on an old cartoon show to watch while you ate, but once you were finished, your own voices quickly overtook the sound of the television.

It was a strange truth to find out - that you and Haechan actually got along swimmingly, taking to each other like a duck to water. Of course, up until the last week or so, the majority of your time knowing each other was spent either ignoring one another or exemplifying passive aggression; so your ability to actually carry a conversation for hours was a very new concept, but one you could hardly take the time to question when you were too busy laughing until you couldn’t breathe.

Haechan was the first to calm down after the last bout of laughter shared in the living room, and he leaned his head against the front of the couch - the two of you opted to sit on the floor as you ate since there was no coffee table to place everything on; not to mention the couch wasn’t that comfortable in the first place.

He rolled his head to the side so he could look at you, your eyes squeezed shut as you bite on your bottom lip to try and stop more laughs from leaving your system. He let a soft grin come across his face as he took in your presence, and the fact that he was happy here with you. “Remind me to thank Mark for convincing you to transfer,” he says gratefully, traces of a laugh still tainting his light voice. Though, all at once, your body stills, and you open your eyes to meet his soft gaze before swiftly bringing your focus to where you had begun messing with your fingers in your lap.

“Oh. It wasn’t really- he didn’t convince me, so to speak. I had to transfer.” You fumble through your words, embarrassment tinging your cheeks a shade of pink.

Haechan furrowed his brows at you. “What do you mean?” He asks curiously, and you can’t help the heavy sigh that escapes you.

You stop fidgeting, but you can’t bring your gaze up from your lap as you respond smoothly. “I was really, badly depressed. Not to mention half the student body at SM used to actually bully me," you recall with a scoff.

“At the end of the day, I just wanted my brother closer than thirty minutes away from me. Helped me feel less alone, or at least helped me not make rash decisions, I mean- I hated myself. Wasn’t sure I was anything but a waste of space, honestly; and the idea of going to my brother to be talked down felt better than going to my friends, cause I always thought they would leave me if all I did was come to them with struggles. My brother can’t leave, he’s stuck with me. Though most of the time, that doesn’t really make it any easier - it’s still putting so much responsibility on Mark, when he’s probably the last person who needs any more added to his plate. Regardless, he does his best - and only partly because he's forced to," you say with a weak laugh before continuing softly.

"In transferring here, my parents made him promise that he wouldn’t allow me to throw myself into oncoming traffic, or maybe it was off a bridge. I don’t know. Something stupid but-”

You cut yourself off when you hear what you think is a sniffle from beside you. You whip your head over to look and get confirmation that he’s actually crying. “Haechan?” You get out worriedly, your brows furrowing as you take in his wide watery eyes and small trembles. You reach out to wipe away at the tears racing down his face, and he just shakes his head against your hold.

“Don’t leave. Don’t you ever dare leave,” he manages to get out somewhat firmly. Your lips form a tight smile at his care and you shake your head, trying to dispel his worries.

“I’m not-” You start, but he cuts you off and you’re sure it’s because he doesn’t quite believe you…not that you could blame him.

He moves from sitting flat on the ground to instead lean over and engulf you in a hug, made awkward by the fact that he was practically just ramming his body into your side. You didn’t care, you wrapped your arms around him the best you could as he gets out choked words. “I need you. Here. I need you here,” he hiccups, and you break.

“Haechan…it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you say, trying your best not to cry now, too as you begin to rub a hand up and down his back.

You feel a light poke at your side and glance down to see his pinkie outstretched. You look back up to face him in confusion, but his eyes are still directed towards the floor, not to mention squeezed shut. “P-promise,” he gets out weakly. With the tears staining his face, the shaking of his body, and his choked words, you knew you never wanted to see Haechan like this ever again. So, without truly realizing how much this pinky promise was going to mean to him, you lace your finger with his and watch as the smallest wave of relief crashes over him.

He falls more decidedly against you, and you hold him there tightly, running your fingers gently across his clothes and through his hair. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, but you know you didn’t let up from the hug until he was completely rid of tears. Though, when you lift your arms up and allow him to sit back upright, he doesn’t, and a small smile crosses your face as you gently place your arms back around his figure.

You hadn’t seen him look this small ever before, and the fact that he was being this emotional and vulnerable with you was making warmth spread through your entire body. You only hoped it could transfer through the hug you had him in, figuring he probably needed it more right now - for some reason, it couldn't click that he was crying over you, that he was currently concerned about making sure you felt comforted and cared for...though that quickly changes with his next words.

“I’m sorry I was a dick to you earlier,” he finally says with resolve. You move to shake your head and dismiss it, but he presses on. “I treated you poorly for no reason, and I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is remind you of someone from your old school. I’ll do better. I promise all I’ll ever try to do is put a smile on your face, but if it’s ever not genuine, I need you to know that you can come to me, confide in me, whatever. Your heavy feelings aren’t going to scare me away. You don’t need to ever pretend around me, and if I’m the only person who has made that clear, then so be it, I’ll be your rock.”

He finally moves as he says this so that he can make eye contact with you, unfortunate because you had finally started crying at his words. “It’s so hard,” you squeak out. “With my family, I mean - I just want to be a good daughter- a good sister. They don’t deserve all that stress of my mental health. I- I broke my family’s heart telling them how I thought of myself…the point I was reaching. I don’t ever want to worry them like that again.” As you finish, your attention is turned towards where Haechan lightly grabbed your hand in his.

“You broke mine, too, but you need to understand that I’ll let you break it over and over again if it means you aren’t going through this alone.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone and it sends even more tears racing down your cheeks. He sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe gently under your eyes. “Y/n,” he says, his voice soft but filled with intent.

You nod your head, knowing what he was looking for - any confirmation that you were actually taking in his words. “Thank you,” you say weakly, causing a corner of Haechan’s mouth to perk up in a soft grin.

His hand that was previously at your cheek moves up to eventually run back down through your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. “Do you wanna watch The Aristocats?” He asks gently.

Your wide eyes meet his. “You’d watch it with me again?” You respond in awe.

Haechan lets out a small laugh, turning his gaze to the floor before shaking his head and looking in your teary eyes again. “You said it’s your comfort movie…I’d watch it a thousand times.”

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a/n: yuhhhh

Taglist: @fullsunstrawberry @choizzn @raevyng @dudekiss3r @yewshi @artsenthusiastk77 @injunnie-lemon @markeroolee @chan-yeoldelling @sunflowerhae @mystverse @urlovelily @luvandletter @jeonghansshitester @dinonuguaegi @untilthesunrises @clean-soap @andassortedkpop @dlin3 @roseangelxfuma @gomdoleemyson @simmsunshine @swanyvess @awktwurtle @t-102 @kukkurookkoo

@hahaechans @ypoom151999 @goldenclosethobi

[tinyfantasminha]

I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation

But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.

Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.

Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.

And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.

It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.

''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)

In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀

If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.

[bokettochild]

Am I allowed to ask about your Legend losing magic brainrot or do I need to just wait for more ACAC to come out?

No, I'm always happy to talk about this one!

I've actually had this headcannon for a while now, but it hasn't managed to come up in a story much (mainly because I've yet to post that BoHH chapter) but here's a brief rundown!

Legend had really strong magic as a child (it's implied heavily in the manga)

His adventures helped him temper it and learn to use it in various ways.

The manga imply that this magic is at least partially a gift of the triforce, although I believe all hylians have at least some magic, even if only latent. His royal blood would also contribute in my HC

Legend's magic was at it's peak in his Oracle adventures, where he had literal goddesses at his side most of the time and was frequently called upon to use their instruments as well as some of his own

Legend lost his magic on the way home from Labrynna when he was caught in a magical storm and struck by lightning.

Here's how it works!

A hylian, and any other magic user, has what one would call a 'magical core'. it's not something physical, but it functions as a heart of sorts where magic is involved, and despite not being present in the physical sense, can be felt and voluntarily controlled to certain extents by skilled magic users. All of their magic flows through this core much like our blood cycles through us from our heart, and, much like a heart, it can weaken or grow stronger depending on the health of the mage, the frequency of use, and what level of magic is employed.

Legend's magical core is incredibly strong, but when he was struck by lightning and woke up on Koholint, that changed.

See, in my HC, the Windfish fully intended to bring him there. What he didn't intend to do was essentially disconnect body and soul in order to do so. As far as this HC is concerned, Legend may or may not have technically been dead for the entirety of that adventure, as his 'physical' form on Koholint was created by the Windfish the same as anything else there in order to house his soul while he wandered the island, hence why it all felt so real for him.

Meanwhile, one of two things had to be happening for the Windfish. Either he was (a) trying to repair damage done to the borrowed goddess-child/servant's body, or (b) he had to essentially make a whole new physical shell for Legend's soul when he returned to the waking world because the lightning blast incinerated the original one.

Either take works with this HC, and I use them interchangeably where it suits me >:)

Whichever you use though, one thing stays true regardless; when returning Legend's soul to his body, the Windfish's magic was still incredibly weak from what he'd been through (what with the corruption and dark magic he'd been fighting) so he did a sort of slap-dash job of it (not intentionally).

This results in a sort of disconnect between Legend's actual soul as his physical form, which includes the fact that his soul and magical systems are not connected to each other as they ought to be.

I don't know how many of you have dabbled in electronics, but it's something like if you were able to build a functioning robot, but someone pulled out all the wires and you had to hurriedly reconnect them all again, only to miss one that, while not essential to basic functions, does affect one particular lesser function. The Windfish forgot that proverbial 'wire' when reattaching soul and body.

Legend is not aware of this. Legend is only aware that he had magic before Koholint, and then he didn't when he came back.

However, when he came back, I imagine he had a lot going on initially, and it's all of that which he believes caused him to lose his magic, not the dream itself. See, Legend's return to the waking world had him stranded out at sea with only a bit of driftwood and, while he had his adventurers bag, it likely didn't have any food in it. So, while, being Legend, he probably had a canteen of fresh water at hand, that would only last him so long. Which means, between sun exposure, lack of food and fresh water, and trying to find his way home, by either paddling himself around or using his mer form, he probably had some issues.

Now, I like to say he used the mer form, as it offers him the best advantages, such as not needing to actually use his fresh water supply, as Mer can absorb water from their environment and are able to withstand both salt and fresh water, as well as they have faster propulsion and he wouldn't be directly exposed to the sun.

Maybe he even ran into other mer! Who knows! Since this is my HC though, I like to say he did, but because he tried to sort of travel with them for a while, it did catch attention from above, and in perhaps the worst turn of events possible, the mer school was attacked by pirates and one little hero just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time (again) resulting in our lovely vet taking a spear through the tail.

I say the other mer got scared off by the attack and our boy was sort of just stuck in survivor mode for a good while before, eventually, being picked up by Ralph, because I want it :)

Anyways, upon return to Hyrule, he's screwed over from lightning and injuries, and since swimming with a spear through your tail (and the resulting infection) isn't much of an option, yes, that dehydration and sun exposure did come into play regardless. So, in short, Legend was screwed over from the time he made it Hyrule to the start of his next adventure. I say that he had to relearn to walk in that time, and struggled with speaking, although that was likely a result of heavy depression and trauma and less a physical issue.

I don't think Legend really tried using his magic until the following adventure, which, while not canonically his, I like to say is Cadence, but it could be ALBW instead. When he can't access his magic as he used to, he assumes that, like his speech and mobility, it was just something he lost or damaged in his returning home (the mer thing is a curse and thus outside of his control, if you were wondering).

I think he took it pretty hard, naturally. But, being himself, he adapted around it by acquiring magical items of varied sorts that he could use to sort of replicate his old abilities and/or give himself access to new magic.

Now, a magical item is something that is powered by the users magic specifically, sort of latching onto the 'veins' of their magic automatically, so this is actually a great workaround for Legend! While he can't actually find/access his 'core' for himself, a magical item can, and it taps into his magic for him, thus allowing him to employ at least some of his magic.

Now, you can get angsty with this and say that, like with a heart, because Legend himself is not regularly accessing and employing is magic, it sort of causes a build up that could and might be slowly killing him, but that's only if you want the super angsty route >:)

Regardless, what Legend has is, as Wild put it, a magical disability; essentially the equivalent of being crippled (which Legend has already been, technically, although he's recovering still from that too). As far as mortals are concerned, there's no fix for it. His soul would literally have to be removed from his body, again, and then properly re-placed within, which, while possible, he would never go for, because he's an un-trusting little bunny.

This WILL come up in other stories (it'll play a major role in BoHH), but in none of them have I chosen (so far) to restore Legend's magic to the way it's supposed to be. As is, he's sort of jury-rigged himself a solution in the form of what are, in essence, the magical equivalent of adaptive technologies/mobility aides.

The one way this does benefit him, however, is that his magic is shrouded and also much less blaringly obvious to the magically sensitive/adept, which makes hiding his heritage/presence much easier, even if it does make everything esle much harder.

And that's it!

(If you're curious about fics where I've played with this idea before, then the Sicktember 2023 installments Legacies Burden, Deeper Than The Surface, and Footsteps Across History all briefly touch on the magical adaptive technology usage, and To Seek Hyrule's Star plays a little bit with the post-Koholint Legend, although less than I had originally planned when writing it.)

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Apologies for the delay guys, just had a lot of things going on with my life, but let's get into it (Jack's Dream):

So we land in Night Raven College around the Fall Season, and you know how as we're traveling through dreams there's someone who suffers from side-effects? Well for Azul, he ended up passing out with his eyes open and no one noticed at first until they realized he was just staying still 😭. They managed to get him to wake up, and because of that Azul promises to take motion sickness medicine next time.

When the group used "Dream Form Change", Silver didn't recite it this time; because it turns out he already mastered it a long time ago, because he usually uses the spell when he oversleeps and wakes up late. So Sebek tries teaching Azul the whole spell that Idia made and Azul was just shocked, then Idia tells him that he doesn't get the otaku nature and that one must yell out a catchphrase. That's when Azul goes, "Well, you're the only one into those things anyways." BUT IDIA DEFENDS HIMSELF BY SAYING THAT EVERYONE IN STYX IS ALSO A GEEK 😂

But anyways, we got more lore from Idia that the spell we're using right now allows us to take on different forms in dreams. However if we were to do the same in real life, then one must need special permission from the Magic Agency.

Silver praises Azul for getting a hang of the spell quickly, but then Grim pipes in saying that Jamil mentioned that Azul was rotten but useful, that's when Sebek scolds Grim and tells him that he's just misleading Azul and what Jamil actually said is: that he doesn't like him but he's a dorm leader, so making him our ally would be useful AND AZUL JUST BECAME DEPRESSED LIKE THERE THERE BRO 😭 and Idia was not helping either because he just recounts the events of the previous update, even mentioning that Azul signed his tablet (which he tries to erase in a panic because he wants to forget about it)

Azul then tells the group that he feels bad about acting like that in front of star athletes (referring to Silver and Sebek). Of course, the two "star athletes" in question are confused and that's when Azul reveals that a video of Silver and Sebek competing in an equestrian competition went viral on Magicam, where netizens were calling them "princes" and stuff.

But since Silver and Sebek don't use the internet much (for the case of Sebek, he does have Magicam but only for the sake of communication) and thought that people were referring to their horses as princes (pls never change you two). This is where we learn that their horses are named Samson (for Silver) and Tempest (for Sebek). That's when Azul corrects them that the internet was referring to them as princes.

That's when Idia starts dissing sports clubs for getting that much attention but the board game club doesn't even get that much hype. But then Ortho replies that the board game club did end up in the local newspaper BUT WHEN THEY WERE TAKING A PHOTO IDIA COVERED HIS FACE WITH HIS HOODIE BWAHAHAHAHA

While the group is talking, Jack comes running in, telling them to get out of the way cuz he's running late. The bird is seen flying around him, signifying that we're in Jack's dream now. So the group follows him to the Coliseum where we see Savanaclaw and a lot of training equipment.

It turns out that Savanaclaw is training for the Inter-Dorm Magift Tournament (so the dream takes place around the events of Book 2) and bruh Dream!Leona's just acting like those typical sports anime protags where yeah he's disappointed about their loss against Diasomnia but they shouldn't waste their chances and there's still room for improvement yada yada yada

AND EVERYONE'S JUST LIKE NAWWW WHO TF IS THAT 😭😭😭. Everyone agrees that they have to wake Jack FAST.

The group's discussing about Jack's Dream when Sebek expresses that he still remembers the incident during Book 2,where he was not only worried about Malleus but with the other players as well (awww) and Azul's out here acting like he wasn't involved in it somehow and that he was shocked about Leona's plan (not awww)

Anyways yeah he deserves to be judged

So they start devising a plan on how to wake Jack up, and in the process talk about his role during the incident. Sure, he did go behind their backs for the greater good but it was most likely a difficult choice for him since he did look up to them :(( . It's unusual that a junior looks up to their senior, but even then Jack still chose to do what's right and we gotta admire him for that yknow.

Silver compares Jack's dream to Sebek's dream, stating how similar they are and Grim's just like "oh if that's the case why don't we punch him to wake him up" 😭

But that's when Idia comes up with the greatest plan of all: We challenge Savanaclaw in a Magift Match (featuring Idia in hologram form)

The entire scene literally feels like watching a sports anime because Azul manages to come up with a sob story about how Octavinelle and Ignihyde are working hard to make it to the Magift Top Spots and he really be pulling up the question if they still got a chance to Dream!Leona and he agrees like a sports anime rival 😭. So yeah we're given the chance to compete against and the group huddles up first and gives a little cheer

Btw this part's a rhythmic and let's just say you have the option to make Azul suffer even more than he should here 😭 (can't find the full rhythmic but there is a part where Azul just gets launched out of the frame)

Azul's already on the verge of passing out again, so Silver had to call for time-out. Ortho offered cooling spray while Sebek gave him water and then there's Idia who proceeds to make fun of him even bringing up his "athleticism" during his dream like bro that's so foul 😭🤚

In the meantime, Sebek tries to come up with a strategy that won't kill Azul in the process. What comes up is that Sebek will mark Leona, Silver will mark Ruggie, Ortho marks Jack, and Grim and Yuu will run around as decoys.

We're back into the game, and Sebek actually managed to put up a good fight against Leona but ends up throwing the disc out of bounds because he tripped. But then Dream!Leona went and helped him up??? and gave him constructive criticism???? Everyone went "Nahhh Leona would NOT do that".

Now we go to Ortho and Jack, with Ortho evading Jack as he's holding the disc. He also taunts Jack for not being able to catch up to him. So the entire game get so serious to the point that THEY REACH SPACE ONCE THEY JUMPED ???

So Ortho's plan this whole time was to drag Jack into space as a way to bring him back to reality. Why? Because Jack starts showing symptoms of waking up when he realized that he should have been dead by now since he's in space. That's when Jack talks about how he saw Leona play on TV 3 years ago changed him and how he enrolled into NRC just to play with him 😢. Then we get the end scene of Book 2 that finally woke Jack up like nooo :(((

JACK STARTS FALLING FROM THE FUCKING SKY AND EVERYONE PANICS. But thankfully Ortho changes into his Cerberus and catches him just in time. Jack starts crying because he realized everything was fake and that all he wanted was to be a player in Savanaclaw 🙁.

Shadows start to appear but we manage to defeat them. But then, Jack starts attacking us thinking that were also fakes as well. Azul tells him to look at his face and that they're in fact the real deal, but Jack wasn't buying it cuz he remembered he had beef with Azul 😭. That's when Idia's like "this happened because you aren't reliable bro" and Azul's just asking Ortho where Idia's power source so he can turn it off (i love Idia in this chapter man).

We let Jack watch the video and tell him the events leading up to where we are right now, and then he proceeds to pat Yuu and Grim's heads, praising them for making it this far. We also let Jack see his dream self, and yeah the first thing he does is comment on the areas he can work on (#priorities).

Jack and Sebek have a conversation alone, where Sebek expresses that he still holds a grduge against Savanaclaw over the events of Book 2 and Jack accepts it, telling him that he has every reason to be angry; and that left an impression on Sebek cuz that made him think that there's still good people in Savanaclaw.

And that's it for Jack's dream. I was already working on summary for this update but there's this big event going on in my university so I've been doing coverages for 3 days straight and I only just got to rest now (being a journ student is quite tiring) but yeah I will most likely have Ruggie's segment out by tomorrow.

Stay tuned then!

Next: Ruggie's Dream

(Note: This post is a summarized version of the update, info and pics comes from @/LBucchie and @/WitchDrug on x/twt, give them some support if you can)

[brummiereader]

@zablife Ahh, Lee ❤️! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me on this chapter, hun 😍.

You've definitely caught on to his up and down behaviour when it comes to Y/N to when their daughter is around. He's adamant on pretending nothing has changed In front of Elsie. But ultimately, he's doing it for himself in a way to fool his paranoia into thinking they're still a happily married couple. He's gone beyond delulu 😳.

Ooh 🤭😈. It's those little digs he makes here and there, that seem to rile readers up the most. Which I admit, I love 😅. But the saddest thing about this is, she believes what he says. I think he has an advantage in the way he's been able to so easily manipulate her, since he's all she's ever known 😬.

Nope. Never. Only when she's asleep, half unconscious will he admit to anything 🙄.

Oh you can be sure he believes everything he's done is completely justified! And as for the detective...well 😬.

Ahh, I'm so happy you like that scene! I was actually gonna leave it out, but I'm glad I didn't 🥰. You're right though, he never shows her that kind of tenderness when he's awake unless he's trying to bait her into showing him affection. I like to think that in that scene he was able to open up to her because he knew she couldn't say anything back, that she wouldn't call him out on his "lack" of trying. He wants to do better just on his terms without anyone telling him 🙄.

😂 I had to add a little humour into this chapter with John's disastrous speech and the stark difference between Lindas side and the Shelby side 🤭. Yeh Johnny Dogs isn't so innocent in this one (to be fair, he's not so innocent in canon either being Tommy's clean up man 😳).

She's in a real pickle 😔. She does love him, but not how he's become. He constantly lets her see small glimpses of himself before everything fell apart, just to keep her holding out for more. He's wicked for doing that, and the way he coaxed those emotions out of her in that scene.

Things are about to go from 1 to 100! I hope you're ready because Y/N isn't. And I'd go as far as saying, Tommy isn't either 😬.

Thank you so much again for this wonderful reblog, Lee! You've made my day ❤️.

Binding Love (Part Four/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After another eventful morning, and onslaught of demanding questions from your husband. Linda and Arthur's engagement party has you unexpectedly seeing another side of your husband, the side you continue to yearn for. But with revealing his former self to you, comes revelations that will horrify you.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, smut.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: Sorry this chapter is late everyone. I had a busy week and not enough time to write. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" When he turns up, can you have him call me?" your voice echoed down the line, fingers nervously twiddling with the twisted wire of the phone as you bit the corner of your bottom lip.

Last minute Larry his secretary had joked, you thought to yourself, reassuring your concerns as you placed the receiver down onto its brassy stand.

You just wanted to apologise, just wanted to hear the end of the nagging worries that had plagued you for the entirety of the night.

For Tommy had not only embarrassed you the previous evening with his raging paranoia, he had scared you. Scared you in a way that had your stomach turn, had you begin to fear for your own safety and the fate of your future, he held forever in his hands.

" Who was that?" your eyes snapped open to the sound of your husband's gravely voice ripiling down the curve of your neck, the lapels of his suit jacket gently brushing across the back of your flowing dress.

" No one" you flatly replied, your attempts to leave stopped by your husband's snaking hand slipping around your stomach.

" Don't lie to me, sweetheart" you felt the heat of his breath fan over your ear as he turned you around to face him.

Stood face to face, his looming frame pressed tightly against your heaving chest, forcing a suffocating response from you as you watched his gaze slowly drift to the telephone, brow cocking as he waited for your answer. " Well?"

"Mr Wyatts secretary. I just wanted to apologise, for leaving so...abruptly, last night" you chose your words wisely, choosing not to further rile his unpredictable temper up with lies he'd undoubtedly sive out as you attempted to pull away from his searching eyes.

" And how is, Mr Wyatt?" Tommy let go as his hand slipped into his jacket for a cigarette, clearing his throat of the curling smirk toying on the corner of his lips as he scooted his muddy boot away from you and the evidence of his nightly hobbies.

" Fine. He's fine" you replied, brow scrunching at his shuffling feet and usually pristine footwear inching away, when your intentions to be honest were overruled by a profund urge within you to not give your smug husband the satisfaction of thinking he'd gotten to someone.

But unbeknownst to you, he had gotten to someone. Gotten to someone in the most sinful, most derranged of ways that ended with a dead body and a trail of mud leading to his crime scene.

" Is that so, eh?" He took a lingering drag of the tobacco rolled between his fingers, blowing a cloud of smoke to the towering ceilings of your home before his eyes drifted down to meet yours with a glistening stare of mischievousness.

How sweet, how...Innocent, he thought to himself with amusement as your heart froze with a gut wrenching feeling of doubt that the previous night hadn't ended with Tommy's parting words and the slam of your bedroom door.

" Ay up, buttercup" Tommy's smirks left you with a sense of dread as his attention drifted to your daughter, nudging herself between your bodies,  beaming up at her parents with a dimpled smile. " How's my girl, eh?"

" Suited and booted, Daddy" she replied with all the seriousness her rosy cheeked pout could muster.

" Right come on then, little soldier. Let's go" Tommy jostled in his pocket for his car keys as the loving smile for your six year old suddenly dropped from your face.

" Wait, i'm...i'm taking her" you looked back at your husband with a scrunched brow of annoyance, reinforcing your intentions with a firm hand to his chest to stop him from invading your morning routine, a routine you was adamant on keeping.

" The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" he played the doting father as he watched your fingers fall from his chest, a wave of shame reddening your cheeks.

" They want to speak with us, together" he grabbed your parting hand, closing the gap between you.

" But you would have known that if you were ever home, with your family" his blazing eyes of turquoise, still seething with jealousy from the previous day, bore into you with a hushed statement of blame.

Was he right? Had you been spending less time at home? Less time with your daughter? It was one evening...one. Or had it...had it been more than that? Your mind began to torment you with the seeds of doubt Tommy had sewn, for the confusion beginning to fester away at your already weary thoughts.

Playing you so harmously in tune to the sound of his own fiddle, you stepped away, your searching hand reaching for your daughter with a look of worry settled between your brow as you racked your brain over the last six months worth of tangled memories.

" Not gonna take the bus then? Get there on your own, on your own terms, after that song and dance you made last night, hm?" His pettiness came to a simmer as he stalked towards you, unwilling to let you forget how angry you had made him, how he had been forced to make such drastic decsions on your behalf to keep you safe.

Feeling the pull of Elsie's hand, giving you no choice but to let Tommy have his satisfaction upon seeing you give in, you followed your daughter without a peep of defiance to the car with your husband's passing comments whispering in your ear. 

" That new life of yours lasted long, didn't it, darling?"

Unable to dodge the talking down from the headmaster you was sure you was about to get, you and Tommy got pulled to the side as your daughter joined her classmates for the day's activities.

" So?" Tommy huffed as he pulled out his pocket watch from within his waistcoat, convinced that whatever the man had to say was not worth his time nor patience.

" It's about your daughter's behaviour" the words of the suited man plunged your motherly worries into your stomach in one quick, sudden drop.

" What...what has she done?" You stepped forward from Tommy's side, concerned as to what had been so grave it warrented both you and your husband's prescence.

" Not only has she been misbehaving, Mr and Mrs Shelby, but she took it upon herself to pick the roses in the school yard during lunch yesterday. Earning her a detention, I assume you are both unaware of" his nose rose above his framed glasses as he judged not only your supposedly unruly child but you and Tommy, her unruly parents.

" You had my daughter sent to detention for picking a fucking flower?" Tommy stepped in front of you, brow furrowing at the punishment inflicted on your child for something he believed to be innocent, if not expected of any little girl or boy of her age.

" They were very special flowers, Mr..Mr Shelby. A school project, participated in by all the students" all superiority, his position as head teacher began to disapate as he caught sight of your husband's gun concealed beneath the heavy lapels of his coat.

" You're wasting our fucking time" Tommy scoffed, turning to leave with a guiding hand to your back, refusing to entertain the ridiculousness of the conversation and its supposed urgency.

" Tommy" you rested a gentle hand to his arm, a soothing enough touch to simmer the anger within him and have him take note of your welling eyes of worry.

" I'll have my gardener come and plant new ones. Better ones. We done now, Mr...?" Tommy waved his hand in front of him, swallowing back his irritation for your sake, if only to have the feeling of you seeking his support for a mere second longer, to feel that you needed him again. 

" Mr Shelby, that will not solve your daughter's naughtiness. I've become aware of some news as of late. I must ask, is everything ok at home?" The head of the school pressed, daring to rile your husband up with his relentless questions.

" What was that, eh?" Your husband's patience with the matter in hand suddenly snapped into a demanding need to know what exactly possessed the man in front of him to ask such a thing.

" Well, I...heard that you were..." He stumbled out his response, suddenly conscious of how far he had pushed his questions as you tried to pull Tommy back from cracking his skull open.

" Married" Tommy pointed his finger as his body loomed over the man unable to keep to his own business and not prod into that of the notorious brummie gangster.

" We're leaving" a hand to your back had you rushing out the corridor as you stopped yourself from pushing his anger to boiling point with the true state of your marriage and your impending demands of divorce, yet to be settled.

" Fuck 'em, Y/N" he ushered you outside to the car.

" We'll change schools, to a private one" he settled the problem his money could solve, refusing to face the true issue.

" Fucking flowers..." He scoffed, reaching in his suit jacket for a cigarette to simmer his anger.

" Me and Arthur did far more than pick a few daisies to earn us detention, darling" a chuckle left his lips as he pulled out his lighter, eyes darting to the school he'd be inclined to see go up in flames, flowers and all.

" It's not about that, Tommy" you sighed as you watched his straining fingers attempt to light the flame in the drizzle that had turned into a lashing of rain.

" So, she's got Arthur's temper" he waved off your concerns, mumbling through the cigarette perched between his lips as his failing attempts to light it saw his patience dwindling.

" Your temper more like. Shelby temper" you huffed with folded arms, brow creasing as you watched his thumb repeatedly flick over the lighter's metal head without success.

" Tommy she's acting out, she's seeing too much.  Us arguing, us fighti..."

" What do you want me do, eh Y/N?!" your husband snapped, throwing his soggy cigarette to the ground.

" You wanted this, not me!" he grabbed you by your arms as the pelting rain battered down onto your shoulders.

" Fuck Y/N, you really think...you really think I would give you up that easily? Let you leave me without a fight?" his head dropped down with a sigh of exhaustion as a silence washed over you with the rivers of water streaming past your feet.

" What are we doing, Tommy?" What are we doing to our little girl?" you began to sob, feeling his fingers clutch onto your arms, pulling you down with the weight of his body as his heavy shoulders slouched forward.

" Lets go home" he refused to answer as his head came up to meet the tears streaming down your cheeks, hand brushing the sorrowful sight of your drenched locks from your face.

" I'll walk" you pulled away with disappointment, turning to leave from the conversation you could never move past as his way continued to demand all control.

" Make my own way, remember? Get there on my own. So I can think, alone" you left him with the words he had spoken that morning, a string of words said in passing by him but ones that still continued to sting you.

" It's pissing it down, you'll get sick. Get in, I'll drive you home" you pushed off his attempts to usher you into the warmth of the car as you walked into the downpour.

" It'll do you know good to think alone Y/N. Y/N! " Tommy stood in the rain watching you walk away from him once again before nodding to his man lingering near by in an unspoken order to have him follow you when the insufferable sight of the detective that had be hassling you came into view, body propped up against the door of his car.

Always fucking there. Always trying to get to you, Tommy slammed his door shut as his eyes narrowed in, fingers turning the silver key in the ignition with only one plan of action in mind. 

Foot pressed on the accelerator, Tommy sped towards him, swerving into his car with controlled prescion as the screeching tires skidding across the concrete came mere centimetres away from taking him out. A clear show of dominance by your husband, to prove to the inquisitive officer that nothing was beneath him, nothing he wouldn't do to keep the upper hand, to have you keep quiet.

He was just keeping you safe. Keeping everyone...safe.

Aching muscles and a sniveling nose, sick from your long pensive walk in the rain back to Arrow House, hadn't been on your list of things to endure before Linda and Arthur's engagement doo that evening. And with Tommy being right about the likely outcome of your stubbornness and refusal to have him drive you home, you had decided to drown yourself within the comfort of your bed than see the satisfaction on his face.

Curled up in within the freshly laundered sheets, you let yourself drift off to sleep as the man whose smugness you couldn't stand to face watched from the bedroom door, glass of water in hand with only a face of conern etched between his brows than the cockiness you thought you'd be met with.

" I hate to tell you I told you so, love" he quietly sighed as he padded towards you, placing the crystal tumbler on your bedside cabinet.

Perching himself on the edge of the bed, the weight of his own worries pushing his body down into the soft mattress as he ran his fingers through the length of his hair, pulling at the strands of stress.

" I can't help myself, darling" he confessed his lack of self-control in the silence, taking the opportunity to lay bare his sins as he watched you peacefully sleep, your mind momentarily free from the stress, from the shouting and arguing.

" Everything I do..." He stopped himself as he pinched his brow of the inner turmoil he felt. " Everthing I've done, it's been for you" he lifted his hand, inching it closer to your face and the lone twisted lock of hair resting on your cheek.

" I'm trying, love" he quietly added, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions scrambling up his throat, fully aware of his unpredictable temper that saw him doing the unspeakable, wholeheartedly believing his bloody hands were stained in your honour, for your safety.

" I'm just a man" he dulled his actions, justified his merciless slayings with his mortal, imperfect form as he brushed the lone ringlet of hair from your fluttering lashes.

"Y/N?" a part of him hoped you were listening, hoped you had heard his admissions of guilt.

" One day you'll forgive me" he snatched his hand away from your resting body, clearing his throat as he rose from the bed to flee his exposed vulnerabilities he felt foolish for laying bare as you began to stir in your sleep.

But rest was far from what you awoke to. For what was supposed to be a relieving sleep, turned into a thumping headache, drilling into the sides of your skull.

" Fuck" you huffed, lifting yourself from the covers as you forgoed the glass of water sitting on the table for the bottle of whiskey behind it.

If you were going to get through tonight, through Linda's obnoxious happiness, the reminder of your strained relationship, through this pummeling heachache, you would do it half conscious, you thought to yourself as you swigged back the amber liquid.

" Frances, what ever would I do without you?" your eyes drifted to the dress hooked on your bathroom door, your trusted housekeeper had managed to find for you after Tommy took it upon himself to rid you of anything that showed an inch of skin.

Fingers gliding over the silky crimson gown, you admired the beauty of the garment in front of you. It's soft fabric running through your palms until you came to a stop at the slit that Frances had sewn up after Tommy's demands.

Too high, too low, too much on show, Tommy's disaproving words rang in your head after the countless times he'd given his unwarranted opinions on your latest purchases.

At first you were flattered, flattered by his boyish jealousy that you'd comply. But when his jealousy came with a dousing of paranoia, and questions over who exactly you were dressing for, you began to resent the passionate show of love he'd shown.

Downing the last of the whiskey you threw the empty bottle on your bed before sizing up the satin dress and it's seemless sewing.

" There..." your face twisted as you pulled at the fabric, ripping the slit open and its looping threads one by one.

" That's better" you pulled the dress from its hanger, proping it up against your body to see your reflection in the mirror of your vanity and the provacating point you wanted to make.

Whether it be the whiskey that had fuelled your actions, the thumping headache or your frustrations with yourself for not standing your ground. One thing was sure, you was adamant on matching Tommy's pettiness and show him the true meaning of jealousy and the stark difference between what he believed was you challenging him.

" Tommy, don't" Ada's hushed voice turned to him, blocking your husband's eyes honed in on you giggling into the shoulder of a guest. A male guest. " She's just..."

"Trying to wind me up?" Tommy stepped away from his younger sister to see you glancing over at him, hips turning for him to see the provocking sight of your dress the way it was intended to be worn and not how he had Frances adjust it to his liking.

"...letting her hair down" Ada sighed, scooting herself back into his line of sight to save you from his glaring anger.

" Letting her hair down. Is that what that's called, eh?" he scoffed, tipping his glass in your direction, to the man accompanying you. The same man enthusiastically tending to your every need in a handsy display that had you flinch away, spilling the flute of champagne down yourself.

"Clumsy, clumsy" he chuckled, leering in as he pulled out his hankie to wipe the spilt droplets of bubbly that had trickled down your exposed thigh.

" Shit" Ada sighed, her protective stance not enough for her brothers fox-like eyes to see red the moment the gentleman beside you took it upon himself to dab away your clumsiness.

"It's ok, really" your panicked hands pulled the handkerchief from him as the shine of his gold cufflinks, encrusted with ruby gems caught your eye when a set of heavy footsteps appeared through your lashes. 

" What are you playing at, eh?!" Tommy snatched you away to the darkened corner underneath your winding foyer stairs.

" Nothing" you huffed, lifting your glass to your painted lips with a pout, feeling your legs sway from side to side as the champagne and half bottle of whiskey you had chugged earlier began to take effect.

" I know what you're doing" he snatched the crystal glass from your hand, tossing it's contents on a nearby leafy houseplant, unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" Good. Is it working?" Your brow arched, unable to stop the emerging teen girl from your younger years trying to rile up her boyfriend of one week.

" Yes" Tommy's response took you by surprise, his battered eyes tired of arguing, catching you off guard as his finger trailed up your bare leg, closing the silky fabric around your exposed skin to save your modesty. " I came to you earlier. Did you hear me whe..."

" Speeches, everyone! My Artie wants to say something" Linda's voice broke the tiny glimpse into your past, your husband's soft voice only reserved for you, free from demands, from the constant bickering that had taken over your daily life.

"Y/N, wait..." His reaching hand held onto the tips of your fingers, backing away to join the happy couple as Tommy's breathy sighs followed you, his change in mood confusing you enough to put up your guard in fear that his unexpected move was just another calculated step in his unwinnable game of toing and froing with your emotions.

Was Tommy finally done? Too tired to fight?

 " 'ere's to Arthur and Linda" everyone drew a breath as John's tipsy speech came to its highly anticipated end. His waving hand, gesturing a toast to the happy couple, seeing the last of his gin at the feet of Linda's emmaculate heels.

Too much joy, too much happiness for any Shelby family member to endure, John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads. 

"Right, yeh...thanks John boy" Arthur's twitching moustache and gangly legs rose from his seat only for his brother to pipe up with another string of words he'd have heard. 

"One last thing, yeh" he clapped his hands together as you felt the gentlemen that had been lingering close to you all night scoot along the plush settee next to you. A move that had you slipping half of your seat away from his unwarranted attention you no longer sought out to irritate your husband with. 

"May yous two one day 'ave the love of your hosts tonight. Alright lads, have at it. Bottoms up!" your heart raced at Johns drunken speech, watching him bring his empty glass up to his lips as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment at your and Tommy's contradicting relationship being made a highlight of the evening.

" Right John, let's get you some water" Ada hurried to her rambling brother, ushering him away from over indulging himself in anymore of Tommy's cellar full of booze as she mouthed her silent apologies to you.

" Never have I seen a love like that. It breaks my bloody heart, Ada. Breaks me 'art!" John's passionate speech continued as your welling eyes drifted up to the pining pare of your husband's and the impact your brother-in-law's unexpected words had mutually effected you both.

" Yes, we're all very heartbroken. Now, shut up" you heard the last of Ada's motherly tone drift from the room as one of Linda's guests took it upon themselves to drone out the awkward silence with an equally awkward, droning hym to top off the disastrous evening.

"The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee..." 

Head downcast, you let your tears fall into your lap as the singing commenced, desperately trying to hide your seeping emotions and the slit in your dress with fumbling fingers as you glanced up at Tommy gesturing you with a tilt of his head to join him, to let him comfort you.

But with a downfall of tears worthy of the storm battering against the windows from outside, you fled from your seat to the empty confides of your foyer as Tommy lept up after you.

"Wher...where are you going?" the man that had hounded you all evening followed in suit, furious his intended fuck for night was getting away as Tommy shot his trusted friend Dogs a silent command to deal with the unwelcome guest until he'd checked on you. 

" Are you a gambling man?" Johnny's chesire grin and looping arm wrapped around the gentleman's shoulders, guiding him out of Arrow Houses back door down to its vast landscape, and woody end. 

" Five shillings here, says you won't be able to outrun..." the rules of Dogs game drifted outside with his steady steps into the night sky, until the faint shrieks of a scream could be heard amongst the improtu singing from within the warmth of your home. 

Letting yourself fall into bed, you buried your head in your pillow as the soft click of the door closed and the dwindling sounds of the party faded out to Tommy's body settling itself next to you on the plush covers. 

" Hey shh, c'mere" he pulled you into his chest, your reluctance rapidly fading as you nestled your cheek against his body. Needing the gentle side of your husband he'd let free for the evening to soothe the pang of heartache you felt, for the memories of the love you shared that had resurfaced after John's blundering speech.

" Bloody John, eh?" his chest rose with a chuckle, lacing his fingers in your hair as he inched his body closer to you when a stifled sob left your throat.

" I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so tired of everything" you sniffed, pawing at the cascade of unstoppable tears streaming down your cheeks with frustration as your husband gently lifted your chin to him. 

" I know, darling" his voice echoed the sentiments you felt as he took over from your shakey hands, and gently wiped the pools of sadness from your lashes. 

Eyes gazing longingly into each others, Tommy bet against any rejection you'd see his ego take another dramatic fall with, and pressed a chase kiss to your lips as you pulled your head away. 

" Stop. Just stop ..." he sighed, turning you back to face him as his fingers glided down your neck, drawing you in with his tender touch. 

" I love you" his nose brushed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, hands gently squeezing at your body with his mouth agape with anticipation. 

" Don't say you don't either" he swallowed back, fingers trailing under the curves of your breasts as he let out a breathy moan.

" I don't" you let the last of your tears fall from your cheeks as you abruptly turned your back to him, pushing his needy hands away. 

" You're lying" he huffed, letting his head fall back against the silk cushion, arm rested above the lengths of his hair as he brushed along the bar of frustration across his brow. 

" So those tears didn't mean anything then, eh? " he abruptly turned to slot his body behind you, lips kissing along your neck as he burrowed his hand under the cleavage of your dress, cupping your breast in his hand with a squeeze. 

Eyes shooting open, you clawed at the bed sheets as a surge of pleasure rushed through your body, head dizzy with the image of your husband gently thrusting himself into your clothed body in the reflection of your bedroom window. 

" Say it, Y/N. Say you love me, say you still want me, need me" his voice moaned with urgency as his eyes flew up to yours in the weathered glass.

"I don't..." Your voice hitched in a pitiful attempt to lie through your feelings as you pushed back to meet his straining erection pressed against your body. 

In one swift movement, Tommy ripped the front of your dress, exposing your body for him to see in your shared reflection as your hand flew to his thigh, nails digging through the tailored fabric. 

" Lies, all lies" he hissed, encouraged by the sweet sounds of your whimpers he'd longed to hear again. " Say it. Say it so we can forget about it all, about everything" 

" I..." you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to repress the strangled moan he was adamant on coaxing from you as he rolled his thumb around your stiffened nipple. 

" I love you..." your voice cracked, eyes opening to the sudden feeling of your husband's hands coming to a stop as you stared back with teary eyes at him in the backdrop of the starry skies, reflecting your bodies in the window of your bedroom. " I never stopped...never"

Flipping you onto your back, Tommy's lips crashed onto yours in a seering kiss of passion, ridding you of what was left of your clothes and the suit that had him seperating himself from the heat of your body. 

Hips snapping into you with each carefully positioned thrust, Tommy was adamant on making you forget, adamant on fucking you until he was convinced of your admission, until his paranoia let him believe it. 

"No more fucking divorce, eh?" He groaned, pushing his throbbing cock into the depths of you as his body rippled with pleasure. 

"No more separate rooms" his snapping hips sped up, causing a string of muffled moans to leave your swollen lips as you let yourself be free of the stress he'd induced.

"No more, Y/N. Say it?" He brought your legs up against his sweaty chest, lifting your lower body of the bed as he thrusted into you with abandon. Muscled arms straining, face scrunched as he desperately restrained himself from falling over the edge without an answer.

"Fuck...say it, sweetheart" He breathed heavily on the edge of blissful defeat as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. Both pining for each other, to feel at one with another like nothing had happened, like the many months worth of distress and arguing hadn't seperated you. 

" No more...no more!" your head flew back to your cushion, hands grabbing at the sheets as he brought you to a heated ecstasy of pleasure, spilling months worth of longing into you with a strangled grunt as he threw his head back in relief. 

Giving up, giving in. In that moment, not a thought or regret was spent caring. Tangled emotions and misplaced promises would be dealt with tomorrow. But for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by.

Pulling you into his lap, Tommy brushed his tongue against yours as he reached between your sweating bodies to grab hold of his hardening cock, pulling you down onto him as his fiery breath bristled against your ear and he made his intentions known for the night.

"Again" 

" And these flowers I can pick?" Your daughter skipped alongside you as you made your way down to the gardens. 

" Yes, once they've bloomed, you can pick all of them. Every, single, one" you bent down to her little frame, sending her a playful wink as she ran off with an excited shriek. 

Keeping a watchful eye on your daughter as she collected every mismatch stick she could find through the treeline to border her very own rose garden, your hand slipped across your stomach, hugging your body with a blissful smile as you recounted the passionate evening you had spent with Tommy last night.

" Mummy, we have moles!" Your daughter's voice alerted you to her discovery as you pulled yourself from your heated thoughts. " Fat ones!" 

" Elsie!" You called back, weaving yourself through the towering trees, treading carefully along the woodlands grassy bedding, when a shining gold cufflink caught your eye.  

" Mummy, come look!" She excitedly shouted as you bent down to the curious object out of place amongst the woody surroundings, it's ruby encrusted focal point sparking a hazy memory within you. " They must be giants!" 

"Giant moles, are you..." You laughed only to grab her by the hand and pull her back when you came face to face with the three heaps of mud in a line next to each other. 

"Here mummy, daddy's" she gave you the matching cufflink she'd found on top of the freshly unearthed mountain, assuming the small piece of jewellery could belong to no one else but her father. 

" Elsie....come" your eyes widened, pulling her away from what was not mole hills but graves. Three graves, each with distingualble shades of dirt, in a haunting timeline of murder that had stretched over many days, if not weeks. 

The officer. The businessman. Unheard of since their encounters with you, your horrified eyes looked at the growing graveyard, convinced of who lay beneath each plot and their enforcers muddy boots, and remarks that trailed themselves back to their murder scene, when the clouds cleared your fogged memory about the small trinkets nestled within your palm. The gentlemen...

Hands clutching the cufflinks piercing against your reddening skin, your welling eyes unable to blink through the terror you felt had you pacing up the hill with shaky legs as your daughter ran ahead. 

"Daddy!" she lept into the arms of Tommy making his way down to meet you with a content smile, body and soul free of his sins.

" Everything ok, darling?" he pressed a tender kiss to your lips as your stance stiffened, hand releasing the cufflinks from behind you back into the grassy lawn as your shakey voice answered...

" Perfect" 

 

Next Part coming soon!

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread

@strrvnge @paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica

[muzzlemouths]

Since you're working on a new fic/au, this might be a good time to ask: how do you start creating a new story? Do you start with an outline? Do you open a word doc and go in guns ablaze? What's the process on that I'm very curious

I sat on this ask for a couple days because I've been struggling with figuring out how to answer it, since the actual answer is that I don't have a process. Not one that sticks, anyway.

For DMD, I had a clear, concise idea in mind for how it would start, how it would end, and a few scenes that needed sorted in between. But the "outline" looks something like that one post:

Most of my fics that end in "?" for the final chapter look like this.

In terms of my oneshots and drabbles, I very rarely have any sort of outline in mind. I'll get an idea for a scene that I want to see, and I'll just start typing until it's finished. Anything over 3k words normally has me writing down some notes for direction, at least.

As for DFtR, due to the nature of that story (what with having three alternate routes) it was pretty much required that I write a full outline, otherwise I would undoubtedly lose track of some details.

My newest au, Easy As Pie (formerly Stardust Hotel) also has a full outline, though it is far more simplified than the one for DFtR, and acts more like guidelines for me to follow with only the necessary/important information established, which still leaves me with room for changes where/when necessary.

For example, here's an excerpt from that outline which has the main bullet point (What that scene is "About") and then a brief description of the room underneath that I can use as a descriptor, while writing everything else around it. That is, the dated appearance of the room is the main focus, and everything else that occurs in this scene will be written as a secondary focus.

Occasionally I'll also include brief phrases/conversation just to ensure that said lines make it into the fic, and so I don't lose track of what is meant to be happening in that moment. Those bits normally look pretty silly (at least to me). Here's one of them!

And that's my process! It's kind of a mess, but it works for me, so that's all that matters haha

[girlwithwolftatoo]

What is chained -Chapter 2

Warnings: None

Summary: Boys like party

Words: 3525

Quo tendimus?

During the campaigns, the soldiers' bundles, regardless of their rank, carried more or less the same thing: crackers, a portion of spicy cheese, bean paste. They took it in the breaks, the proper meals were mostly for the evening, and the pungent and intense aroma of the broths in the pots - patchwork broths, Acacius called them - gave him a melancholy that he could not name.

In the palace, the breakfast table was so exuberant that the general could not believe it was for only two men. And it certainly wasn't; emperors usually lunched with one or two men they trusted, weak senators who complied with their whims, foreign merchants who sought to curry favor with them, and the like.

The twins ate, as was the ancient oriental custom, lying on their sides between fluffy cushions lined with vibrantly colored fabrics; Geta was already fully dressed, Caracalla on his side, was wrapped in a gold-embroidered tunic that slipped off his shoulder, still in bedclothes, and at his side, fastened by his long solid gold chain, his monkey.

A servant approached to offer him water for the lavatory, and the younger twin made a gesture of displeasure, holding a hand to his head. When another servant poured him wine, his face changed to a relieved smile.

“This I do like,” he commented, contentedly, raising the glass to his lips. Geta reached out to take a couple of ovis hapalis, one after the other, popping them whole into his mouth, and only then did he see Acacius arrive.

“Ah, general!” he said by way of greeting, his mouth full of egg. He chewed with the delicacy of a cow and gestured to the nearest cushions “Please...have breakfast. You're up very late.”

“Actually I've just come from the stables” replied the general, sitting down with his legs half crossed. Caracalla, busy emptying his second cup, didn't even look at him. “I had a very enlightening night, your majesties, I would like to share my findings as soon as possible...”

“We don't discuss politics while we eat, do we, brother?”

Caracalla did not reply to Geta, but stared into his goblet, thoughtfully. The older twin cleared his throat.

 “Brother?”

“This wine is sour” Caracalla muttered. Geta snorted, grinning sarcastically.

“Can you hardly tell? It's your second glass, isn't it?”

Caracalla gestured to the servant with the decanter, and when the servant bowed, he grabbed him by the collar of his robe with such force that he almost threw him face first into the table.

“This wine is sour” he hissed in his ear. Geta watched with silent reproach, Acacius for his part stirred, almost on the verge of rising.

“Majesty” he called to him with the firmness with which he would address a clumsy soldier.

“Send some wine that's good!” the twin spat, releasing the servant only to add, ”And somebody whip this one!”

“Majesty!” Acacius raised his voice, and this time Caracalla faced him, shrugging.

“They've brought bad wine,” he excused himself. Acacius frowned.

“Majesty, though you may not like it, it is through servitude that people know masters. If a servant is constantly mistreated, people will think the worst of you.”

“Well simple, we cut out the gossipers' tongues.”

Geta decided to intervene, addressing his brother more than the general:

“Servants should not talk about their masters behind their backs, slaves much less, they know it so what's the problem, are you implying that they are the ones inciting the people, general?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Acacius replied, making an effort not to become impatient. He searched for a way to explain himself, for he noticed the venomous eyes of the two brothers upon him. “Consider a horse, your majesty. A well-kept horse takes notice, his coat is clean and shiny, his mane smooth, his legs are strong and light, his head is proud. A horse will never say a word about his master, but whoever sees him will know, by that alone, that he is in good hands or not.”

Silence, on Geta's face appeared a sign of understanding, but Caracalla, indolent, jingled the monkey's chain and remarked:

“Dondus looks very well, if the people see him they will know he is happy here. And the servants should be too.”

“Brother, the general has spoken a truth” Geta rebuked him, taking another ovis from its bowl “A wounded servant is obvious to anyone's eyes, even if they don't see his marks.”

“Who cares about that? I'm talking about Dondus” insisted Caracalla with a childish grimace.

“Honestly no one gives a fuck” Geta whispered, shoveling food into his mouth. Something exploded in the head of his twin, who stood upright like a snake about to bite.

“What did you say?” he whispered, squinting, and receiving no immediate response, he picked up another ovis and threw it in his brother's face.

“What do you think you're doing?” mumbled Geta, and the two began to argue loudly. Acacius sighed, pouring himself some sugary globi and trying to ignore the quarrel; if he were in the army, he thought bitterly, he would send those two rowdies to be tied up in the sun for a while, but even his new appointment allowed him no such chances.

It was not possible for him then to speak to the emperors, and at noon the parade of audiences began, where he remained standing in the midst of the thrones, seeking to whisper some advice to them when he noticed, shrewdly, that neither knew what to say; the day was brief, an hour at most, and then they both retired to their quarters.

“Ah, by the way,” jumped Geta ”we will send you to one of our dressers, general. You will come with us.”

“Where to?” asked Acacius, frowning.

“There will be a nice get-together this evening at Scylla's house, I'm sure you've heard of him. You are invited, in our name.”

“No one informed me of a party, and besides, I thought I told you about it” growled the general. Geta smiled, and his brother, having forgotten the morning's grudge, hung on his shoulder.

“We're not giving the party, general, that's out of the norm, isn't it?” Caracalla pouted. “You're coming with us, and you'll have a lot of fun. You can tell, with all due respect, that he hasn't had any fun in... a long time....”

Caracalla let out a chuckle and left with awkward steps. Acacius wondered if it would not be wrong to stick to the original plan and better, taking advantage of the party, take the heads of those two unpresentable.

Scylla was, as Thraex explained to him, the master of immense vineyards in the south of the empire, and he had a family engaged in those same duties in some provinces of North Africa, so in short, he was an immensely wealthy peasant, in the senator's words. But in addition Scylla was a quirky, fancied himself an artist and was, in short, a suitable pontifical friend for those depraved twins. Acacius took that in the best way, for one does not defeat the enemy by attacking and already, one must have a proper idea of the terrain where battles will be fought, so he accepted with a false good face to go in the same chariot with the emperors, who had chosen for the occasion really unusual fabrics: Geta was all dressed in blue and gold, Caracalla however, sported a long tunic of thin linen and on top, a pink cloak embroidered with pearls and natural shells.

“What do you think, general?” he asked, cocking his head coquettishly. Acacius found no kind words so he repeated:

“Is there any reason for this special occasion, your majesties?”

“Don't you know? It's a bacchanal. Our dear Scylla has just won a fortune through his third son in Caesaria, and we're going to celebrate.”

Acacius had understood that bacchanals were forbidden but imagined that, emperors being what they were, they had no compunction about allowing them as long as they were invited. The carriage rattled through the city in the twilight to a centrally located villa, the interiors of which were lit by a host of lanterns, some decorated with expensive tissue paper in shades of pink. The servants who greeted them bowed deeply, and were bare-chested; Acacius sighed, it was going to be a very long evening.

There were already at least two dozen guests, all dressed in the same bewildering extravagance as the emperors or even more: there, one man wore a grotesque Greek mask and a crown of thistles on his hair, there, another wore a diadem with real ram's horns entangled in ivy.

“The theme of the feast is the gods,” Geta explained to him as he took two goblets in passing and handed one to Acacius. “I am Helios, see, lighting up the dark sky.”

Caracalla was already lounging on a mountain of cushions, pampered by more half-naked servants offering him viands and wine, his monkey, who for the occasion wore frightful golden wings, was pacing back and forth as if fleeing from the crowd.

The host appeared soon after, also dressed in blue and with vine leaves on his head. Scylla was precisely the kind of man Acacius could not stand: goofy, petulant, self-satisfied, he knew it just by looking at him and above all, by the way everyone applauded him as if Jupiter himself had come to Earth; the rich landowner went to the emperors and bowed deeply to them.

“My majesties!” he exclaimed in a strangely shrill voice. Dondus leaped upon him and tried to snatch some of the grapes he was carrying among the vine branches, and let out an anxious chuckle. “Welcome to this humble abode! I pray the gods you have everything you want.”

“Everything, yes, as always, Scylla” Caracalla reached out a hand to stroke the hair of one of the servants surrounding him. Acacius pretended that the statue beside him was fascinating, but Geta pointed it out, raising his voice:

“Scylla, let us introduce you to our beloved general Justus, Marcus Acacius.”

The man waddled over to the general and clapped his hands, delighted.

“Oh, it's quite a pleasure, general! He is much taller in person, yes, and more wonderful!”

Acacius feigned a smile as he gazed at that made-up face with rudely red cheeks.

“How did you persuade him to come, your majesties? I always hear that the general is very secretive.”

“The general has been promoted... to royal advisor,” Geta explained, giving Caracalla a warning glance; no one outside the senate knew Acacius' true role and so it was to remain.

“How, a general? He sure knows a lot about wars and conquests, of course...” replied Scylla. “Does that mean he will no longer fight?”

“There will be more victories for Rome, of course, but for now he delights us with his keen mind and prudence.”

“What do you think, Scylla?” Caracalla leaned forward, resting an awkward hand on Acacius' shoulder. “He's come dressed for the occasion, can't you guess who he is?”

“Why certainly, no... uh, let me think, majesty...” The tubby landowner cocked his head like a deaf dog “Jupiter, perhaps?”

“No, no, Mars! Take a good look at his mantle...”

“Ah, ah! Of course, Mars” Scylla chuckled ”How else? The god of war who has benefited him so much, yes. And he looks very good, if I may, just the other day I met a bronze artist, he's on the lookout for models here in Rome, our general could well pose for him...”

Soon Acacius understood why Scylla was the favorite of the emperors, he gave them everything they wanted and he knew their weaknesses very well, so they paraded before them the most exotic dishes, wine in abundance and servants who, especially with Caracalla, let themselves be done without complaining. The lightness of the atmosphere was due above all to the absence of women, and that gave the general a clue.

“I hear this feast is in honor of your family's good fortune,” he told him when they had been listening to the musicians for a long time and the emperors were entertaining themselves in a game consisting of the guests imitating scenes from the myths and stories, each one more ridiculous than the last. The host smiled, clearly blissful that he was addressing him.

“Oh, sort of. Wine, general?” with a curt gesture he called a servant over and took two glasses. Acacius accepted and took a sip, smiling to pretend he loved it.

“Exquisite. From your vineyards, I suppose.”

“That's right! A unique vintage, from my campo magno near Herculaneum. That's where my ancestors used to vacation, until, you know...” he made a noise with his mouth that simulated an explosion, and drank from his glass in large gulps. Acacius squinted.

“You've said something about your family before, haven't you? Something like that, were his words...”

“Well, well, General, what do you want me to tell you?”

Scylla invited him to sit down, and Acacius spent a while pretending to enjoy the talk, and discreetly emptying his cup each time it was refilled, unlike Scylla, who was already somewhat drunk at the beginning of the party but was now at a loss.

“I had five children, all boys, glory to the gods!” he exclaimed, raising what was like his eighth cup. “Three of them are married here in the empire, the others in the provinces, and I have about twelve grandchildren. That's more than enough for me, when my Bellona died I swore not to marry any more, with once I had already been criminal.”

“Criminal, to marry?”

“I don't like being a liar” he explained with a pout ”I don't like women. I understand that you find them pretty and all that, who would deny, for example, the loveliness of two firm breasts? But I did my duty, and I don't want any more whores in this house... Or what do you think, general, do you lean more towards Mercury or Venus?”

Acacius smiled out of commitment.

“This party is of a high standard, sir” he commented.

“Scylla, please, General, call me Scylla. There is nothing... that would make me happier right now.”

“All right, Scylla” Acacius made a toast gesture, and that ended up disarming the landowner. “You must have spent an awful lot of money for this... lovely evening.”

“Not a talent out of my pocket” the man hiccupped, smiling mischievously ”This party, as I told you, is thanks to my son... or rather at his expense.”

“I don't understand.”

“You see...” Scylla leaned in to whisper to him, his breath laden with the scent of fermenting grapes “My dear Septimius died a short while ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Acacius voiced quickly.

“No, no, please, it's the best thing that could have happened to me! Septimius was ungrateful, he wanted his vineyard to be just for himself and his despicable little half-breed children. My children, they pay me every year two hundred talents each, as compensation for my help, and so we keep in touch and I make sure their future is good. Well, me and their majesties...” he raised his glass with trembling hand towards the mountain of cushions where the emperors were resting.

“Two hundred talents per child, that makes... a thousand talents a year minus taxes” mused Acacius aloud.

“Taxes?” Scylla let out a chuckle and, with the same hand that held the cup, gestured around him “This, general, is my tax! Their majesties enjoy it very much and I... I keep my well-earned money without interference. Of course, now that Septimius is dead, all his goods pass to me, do you know why?” A servant poured him more wine and half of it was left scattered on the cushions, Scylla no longer supported himself.

Acacius squinted and shook his head uneasily.

“Well, because I killed him!” Scylla smiled exhibiting severely damaged teeth. “I paid some mercenaries, they got rid of him and received, as promised, a quarter of his earnings. And ah, the bastard sure was living the good life. After the cashing out I'm left with a little over two thousand talents, isn't that fortune, general?”

“Indeed it is,” muttered Acacius. He was disgusted, that man murdered his son out of greed, and he found it commendable, he wished to teach him a lesson but it wouldn't be wise to rebuke him in front of the crowd, his reputation was at stake, he had to be careful and....

“General!” Geta approached him, reeling from the drink.  “You're having a good time, aren't you? Sorry but you must help me find Dondus, my brother has lost sight of him and...”

Caracalla was even drunker than Geta, if that was possible, and was crying his eyes out as guests and servants tried to comfort him. Grateful to have an excuse, the general abandoned Scylla and went out into the gardens, in search of the monkey; to his surprise, Geta was with him, muttering something about his brother's stupidity in taking the animal with them.

“It's always the same, he gets drunk and lets it loose out there, then he can't find it and thinks it's been eaten, the beasts or the slaves. He has this crazy idea that slaves eat monkey.”

“Hungry anyone would eat whatever they could find,” punctuated Acacius, who was using a long-range torch to peek through the leaves of the trees.

“General, I would like to... ask you a great favor, now” Geta bowed his head, dizzy but aware. “I know what people believe, that my brother and I will one day slit each other's throats, but that is not so. I recognize his faults, which are many, but I love him. We've been together since... since our mother's womb, yes? I haven't spent a day without him. If anything were to happen to him, I...”

The emperor's eyes filled with tears, Acacius found it pathetic but, gentle, he patted him on the shoulder as if he really wanted to comfort him.

“Your Majesty, it is my duty to protect you both, but to achieve this, I need your trust, and your understanding. I am nothing... without Rome at my back. If I too am lost in the eyes of the people, there will be no one left to aid you.”

He dared to be this blunt because the emperor was drunk, and to his relief he took his words calmly, nodding meekly.

“I understand, general... yes, we will... we will do as you say...”

Acacius felt that battle would be lost as soon as the effects of the alcohol wore off, but for a moment he saw himself undefeated.

Dondus was high up in a Thracian palm, it took three servants, a pole and a fruit to force him down, and Geta reluctantly handed the golden chain to Acacius, who had to act as guide. Caracalla, seeing him return with his pet, exclaimed as if he had just been stabbed, and threw himself on the ground.

“Dondus! My dear... precious... sweet little friend!” he sobbed, hugging the monkey with devotion. Then, he looked at Acacius and hugged him too. “General, you're such a hero, you're returning my adored Dondus to me safe and sound!”

“Brother, calm down,” Geta told him, obliviously oblivious.

“Oh, General, I'd kiss you if I could! What do I say, of course I could!”

And to the mute amusement of the crowd, Caracalla planted a kiss on his cheek before Geta pushed him away. Acacius was livid but kept a hieratic face.

“I think their majesties need to return to the palace. It's been a long party and... surely Dondus is exhausted” he added to get the younger twin to agree to his suggestion. Geta agreed, and the two had to be half carried back to their carriage.

Acacius had to endure sitting in the middle of the emperors, Caracalla was sound asleep against his shoulder, Geta nodded, peering out the sleeping city through the holes in the wooden window.

“It's pretty, isn't it? Rome” he mused.

“Yes. It is,” Acacius affirmed.

“Our father adored it. More than he loved us. Actually I don't think he ever loved us” he added bitterly. “Mom loved us, but she's gone too.”

“Losing a mother is painful.”

“She would tell us stories until the wee hours of the morning...she said that, since I was older, I should take care of him.”

Geta motioned with his head toward Caracalla, who snuggled more against Acacius in his sleep.

“Do people really hate us?” the elder asked, looking at Acacius with an expression he had never seen on him before, that of childish anguish. He hated them both, with all his heart, but he couldn't help but imagine them as children, two spoiled brats who nevertheless looked at the world and took it as an enemy, or as treasure.

The general bit his tongue.

“Actually... I'd like them to love us,” Geta continued in a weak voice, her eyelids drooping at intervals. “I really would like...”

Drowsiness got the better of him and finally, the carriage fell silent.

[dorabledewdroop]

Chapter 12

Hi everyone! I am so sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter, I got my stuff repaired, so now I can actually type. I am hoping to write a bit more often, but exams are coming soon, and hence, I will probably not be able to post as much as I want, but I will try.

Warnings: Graphic injury (as usual), blood, violence

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

You groaned inwardly after hearing Steve go through the 5th plan for the third time.

You knew you were getting overconfident, but your ‘episodes’ always left you filled with anxiety and mental fatigue.

“Steve,” you interrupted, “you know I love being prepared as much as the next teammate, but could I please just go and rest?”

He simply sighed, knowing sitting in one place was not your strongest suit.

“Y/n, your vision further emphasises the danger of this mission; hence, we need to be thoroughly prepared to avoid what you saw.”

You sighed, nodding your head and melting further into your chair. You could feel your girlfriends giving you a sympathetic smile from across the table.

They weren’t allowed to sit next to you after the 2nd time. (You accidentally zoned out during the entire mission briefing and proceeded to get shot within minutes of stepping into the field)

The moment Steve dismissed everyone, you bolted out, wanting to be anywhere but in a room.

Before you knew it, you were at your second favourite place on the compound (the first being in both your girlfriends’s arms): the new rooftop garden.

When Tony showed up at your room after your first very own mission, he noticed the plants and later inquired about your love of fauna. Before you knew it, the rooftop of your wing was remodelled into a gorgeous garden. 

Natasha had to be held by your witchy girlfriend to stop her from cackling out loud at Tony's very flustered expression when you started crying with joy and hugging the man.

That was where you had met Gabriel, the most adorable, dapper little gentle-teen who was in charge of gardening.

When you met, you immediately hit it off, bonding over your love of gardening and life itself. You adored his take on plants and were always excited when he came to share what he had learned in school.

You were brought out of daydreaming as two gorgeous women sat down on either side of you.

You felt your heart swell at the thought of getting to spend time with the two of them.

You three continued to sit in peaceful silence and watch the sun slowly set over the horizon.

X—X—X—X—X

Natasha flopped on your bed with a content sigh. She’d never admit it, but she instantly felt calmer and lighter when she was in your room.

Wanda was watering the plants on the balcony, talking to them sweetly. Neither of them had really thought about plants before you came around, but the change was almost immediate. 

Wanda absolutely adored spending time on your balcony. She was filled with so much energy and happiness when she was in your room and the rooftop garden. She knew it had something to do with you, even local parks or forests did not make her feel the way plants that were personally looked after by you did. It was as though she could feel you through them; your power emanated from every leaf, stem, and petal.

She basked in the feeling a little more, waiting for you to come back from your meeting with her brother.

You entered your room quietly, holding two boxes of pizza, only to find Natasha asleep and Wanda staring at the stars. Your witchy girlfriend must’ve heard your thoughts cause her head snapped to you with a wide grin. She slid open the door to enter your room, causing Nat to wake up.

“Pizza time”, you whispered to the both of them, your smile widening at the hungry looks you received.

Wanda moaned at the first bite of her pepperoni slice. Your head snapped to her, mouth hanging open as the veggies from your slice just dripped back onto the open box.

Paying no mind to your reaction, Wanda continued to devour that slice of pizza, making sure both her girlfriends heard how much she was enjoying her food.

“You might want to eat that before it gets cold, detka,” Nat whispered in your ear.

You brought your attention back to your slice—or rather, what used to be your slice. Unbeknownst to you, all the cheese and veggies had fallen off the slice in your hands, leaving you with just a saucy base.

You ignored the giggles as you ate whatever you could, face burning in embarrassment.

X—X—X—X—X

“That was amazing. Where did you get the pizza?” Natasha asked, cuddling further into you.

“I have no idea,” you replied. " Ask Pietro; he’s the one who got it from somewhere in Italy.”

Wanda’s head snapped up from your chest, glaring at you. “He did WHAT?”

You shrugged, “apparently, he’s getting faster and was more than willing to get me food.”

The witch scoffed, “he’s never done that for me, and I’m his sister.”

You smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “He’s my best friend.”

Wanda merely rolled her eyes and rested her head back on your chest. 

Unable to help yourself, you egged her on. “Pretty sure he’d get me some lovely gelato if I asked hi- YEOWCH!”

You yelped as Wanda bit your neck.

“What the fuc- OW STOP WHY”

Wanda growled and continued to bite all over your torso.

“NAT HEL- OW NAT WHY”

You scrambled to get off the bed from your two bitey girlfriends but found yourself pinned to the bed by red wisps. You gave up, letting the bites and giggles continue until they eventually got tired enough to calm down and sleep.

You eventually fell asleep, dreaming of men in catsuits and a weird, ugly purple hulk.

X—X—X—X—X

“… Not to my face, they didn’t. Why did someone say something?” 

You heard Natasha’s voice in your earpiece. 

You chuckled, sipping your iced coffee as you continued to listen to their banter.

They soon figured out the truck’s destination and acted accordingly. The moment you saw the truck break through the gates, you immediately sprinted towards them.

You were asked to stay hidden until necessary but were unable to ignore the cries of pain of the civilians caught in the fight. You healed as many as you could while keeping an eye on your team, gasping when you saw Steve kick a guy and launch him far away.

You noticed the mission became more complicated as they identified the infectious gas that was stolen.

You heard that Rumlow and his group split up and instinctively knew it was time for your secret backup plan.

You whispered ‘code Silver’ into your phone’s AI and immediately ran towards the market. There were a few civilians with broken bones because of the fight; one was shot. You helped them up, healing them without them realising. The sun hid the white glow of your powers, so it wasn’t noticeable unless someone was directly looking at the injured area.

You were able to use the tracking app to find out where Steve was and saw him throw his shield in the air as it exploded. Your eyes widened when you saw Rumlow charge towards Steve.

You sprinted as fast as you could to intercept but didn’t make it in time; Rumlow punched Steve with such force that Steve flew backwards straight into you. You winced as you felt your ribs break under the force, surprised at how well Steve ate that punch. You wanted to heal him, but his suit covered his entire body.

You got up and were about to help Steve when you saw movement from the corner of your eye.

You weren’t able to avoid the hit and ended up flying into a building with a sickening splat.

The moment you could, you opened your eyes to look around, finding yourself in an office surrounded by your blood and a few bits and pieces of your organs.

You whimpered as you felt your organs go back into the right place, your tibia snap back into place and heal.

You crawled to find Rumlow on his knees, glaring at Steve. You saw something in his hand and tried to scream out.

Rumlow was almost immediately encased in a red sphere. Wanda, Steve and you waited for the explosion that never went off. Rumlow looked at his trigger hand only to find it empty.

Realising there was no imminent danger, Wanda let go of the sphere, and Rumlow was tackled to the ground by Captain America.

You sighed in relief, letting your body relax.

Wanda was perplexed; she clearly saw a trigger in his hand right before he pressed it. When Steve tackled him to the ground, they saw no bomb or trigger on him.

“Wondering what happened?” She heard a familiar voice behind her.

She spun around to see her brother grinning, out of breath.

She immediately ran and hugged him, pulling back when she smelled his t-shirt.

“Piet.. how.. what.. why do you smell like smoke?”

He chuckled, “You can thank y/n for that; she gave me her spare tracker watch thing and told me to use it when I got the alert.”

Steve frowned as he overheard the conversation

“Why didn’t she inform us?”

The speedster simply shrugged, “Ask her, wait. Where is she?”

Wanda felt her heart drop; she looked around but couldn’t find you. She knew you were nearby, but because so many people were being evacuated from the market and nearby buildings, she couldn’t pinpoint your location or read your mind.

She walked up to Steve, who was helping Sam round everyone up to arrest them.

Before she could, the building nearest to the market exploded. She gasped as she saw you fall from a few stories up, unconscious.

No words were required; Pietro took Wanda to the building, where she used her magic to stop your fall, lowering you directly into Pietro’s arms. He let out a yell and let go of you, shaking his arms as you fell face-first onto the ground.

“PIETRO, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU” Wanda yelled, using her magic once again to raise you in the air.

She let out a yelp when she tried to touch you; your body was searing hot. Your skin was charred and glowing a faint red underneath.

Pietro reappeared wearing a bomb suit, picked you up and ran to the quinjet as fast as he could.

Wanda met with Natasha and updated her while both of them helped with clean up. 

It took another half hour before they were all able to get back on the quinjet.

They entered to see you fully heard, sitting in the med bay of the quinjet, sipping water, and talking to Pietro.

Your girlfriends immediately rushed to your side, asking you a bunch of questions and examining you to make sure you’re okay.

It took a whole hour before they calmed down enough to sit with you.

Steve and Sam joined you, having put the jet on autopilot.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Steve said, “but I have to ask, how did you know to call Pietro for this mission? I thought he had his mission in Europe?”

Pietro cleared his throat. “Actually, I arrived last night... I didn’t want to go on this mission, so I didn’t tell anybody.”

Ignoring the way Steve stared at the speedster, you began to explain.

“I know I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention yesterday at the meeting, but something still bothered me about it. So, I asked Piet to stay on call in case of an emergency. But because it wasn’t based on any evidence, I didn’t want to make it official and change the entire plan. I know it wasn’t my call; I’m sorry.”

You refused to meet anyone in the eye, ashamed of the secrecy. You did look up when you felt a hand on your foot.

“Your intuition saved many lives today. Besides, it showed us something we couldn’t have seen otherwise.”

You nodded solemnly, the possibilities making your mind race faster.

Pietro frowned, “What are you all nodding about?”

“The building y/n was in exploded,” Sam said

“Yeah.. so?”

Wanda looked at her brother “Piet, that was the building the Rumlow was near when I tried to stop him from pulling the trigger.”

Pietro stared at his sister as it slowly dawned on him.

“They wanted to make it look like your fault.” He said,

The witch nodded.

“Someone is trying to break up the Avengers…”

X--X--X--X--X

tags: @marvelwomen-simp @nothanksbye07 @jono723@luadyjcmd@alexawynters @falloutboy-lover

[nshmuras]

YOU DONT TALK MUCH? ~ s.jy

sypnosis : jake was the heartthrob of decelis academy. as usual, he would find girls to swoon and break every month. but what happens when his friends challenge him to break you? the quiet girl who never speaks to anyone.

genre : fluff, angst, smut.

features : hyung line of enha.

pair : popular boy jake x quiet girl reader

chapter(s) : 1 2 THREE 4 5

buns notes : finally took this off hold ! enjoy :3

That eventful day stuck with you like glue. you swore you could still feel his touch whenever you walked.

he almost took your virginity. keyword; almost. until he had to bail and rush out, leaving you by yourself on the rooftop.

and the worse thing isnt even that! hes been avoiding you since thats day.

whenever you saw him—he disappeared almost immediately.

being the naive person that you are, you thought he was just busy and decided to wait until he approached you instead.

until that didn’t come.

—————

Jake stood in a circle with his friends and did the usual lollygagging with the crew, making new cruel jokes or talking about girls.

and obviously, your name popped up.

“Hey jake, what went on with you and that girl? yn…. ln! yeah her” heeseung chirped.

Jake froze at the words but swallowed and natured his bravado.

“Tch, i got what i wanted.” the whole table started laughing.

but jakes heart felt heavy, a longing and yearning for something he couldn’t decipher.

it wasn’t for you! of course not. why would he ever long for you? he fulfilled his duty.

yeah.. thats what he told himself.

but when he saw you entering with a guy chatting by your side something felt off—like a million fireworks going off, but they weren’t nice ones.

“Yo man, you listening?” a nudge from sunghoon caught him out his trance.

the whole table looked at him.

seriously what was going on with his mind?

“Yeah im-.. ill be back, bathroom break yknow?” jake scurried out the lunch room.

-

while standing outside the boys bathroom—he spotted jay approaching him from the lunch corridor.

“Jake..” jay started as he stopped in front of him.

Jake stared at jay in confusion but slightly knew what he was going to confront him about.

“Spill. whats up with you? you kept looking at yn. I mean come on, thought she was just a bet.” jay spoke.

jake thought that as well, he saw you as merely a bet and just wanted one thing so he could brag about it.

but somehow someway that view changed.

“I-… i know that but shit jay.. i think about her okay? not just how her body felt but.. how it would be different if we just cuddled or if i took her out.”

Jay was taken aback by all of this—was jake actually falling for a girl.

before jake could continue the sound of scurrying footsteps caused them to look up.

and there you were, rushing off down the hall.

Jakes heart was full of panic as he pushed off the wall and brushed past jay in a hurry.

“Hey—“ jay called out; but he didn’t listen.

he ran down the hall with his head spinning around in circles.

he was scared that you heard everything — about the bet. he didn’t want you to know that.

and he definitely didn’t want you to know that his feelings developed. he didn’t want to lose you.

that made him stop in his tracks as he racked for a breather.

Him, sim jaeyun, had never felt this way about a girl before.

what was it about you that had him so hooked? why did he care for once that a girl could possibly know she was a bet to him?

all he knew is that he couldn’t lose you. he wouldn’t lose you.

jakes next targets : @faithnsstuff @mitmit01 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @whoa-jo @wonsdoll @elysianiki @mmygnolia @kairoot (send ask to be added.)

[water-lemon-alex]

the night before the finale.

a pre-s1e17 oneshot revolving around the season one finalists.

you have reached the end of the current chapter, but what about the one before it? what happened on the night before one of them went home a millionaire?

the penultimate episode of the first season has just finished airing, and the sun begun to set.

the show once had sixteen contestants fighting for the million-dollar prize, and each night they sleep, there were one (or two) less contestants by their side.

now, there were only two. two contestants.

one who only won a few couple challenges to get this far into the game, and another who kept her true persona a secret just for people to like her more.

both of them have just lost their closest allies in the competition. now, they’re on their own.

together.

the two finalists sat atop a hill, the one where all of them used to rest on. the sun is no longer visible from the sky— only the light of the moon reflected from it. the sky became dark, with a million tiny white diamonds in the sky.

the lettuce-filled “friend” sneakily tapped the glass of her orange competitor.

“hey! hey, oj!”

but the orange beverage didn’t respond. he was sulking over the loss of his best friend, who he thought was going to make the finals with him. now, he’s stuck with some half-witted mexican food.

then he finally takes a deep breath, and slowly turns to her with a sad look on his face.

“not now, taco. can’t you see i’m disappointed? i thought that i could make it with him to the finals! now i’m stuck with you…”

she clears her throat to get in character with her false persona.

“well— i lost my best friend, too! i never thought he would get voted off just when we’re this close to winning!”

“so he voted out him just so that you could advance…”

this argument is unnecessary. you can’t change something that already happened.

“…ugh, forget it. the finale’s tomorrow, and i need to get enough sleep to prepare for the final challenge.”

but both of them knew he wasn’t gonna sleep anytime soon. not with all the pressure from the game. it’s the finale, after all.

“…let me guess, you can’t sleep too.”

she nodded.

the hard-shelled contestant couldn’t sleep at all. she was still beaming with energy! (on the outside.) due to her high stamina, her plan was to tire him out before the finale.

“come on, we never got a chance to hang out at all! the moon’s so pretty tonight! let’s do something fun to tire ourselves out!”

…okay, this was supposed to be a game strategy, but in all sincerity, she actually does want to spend time with him, even just one time. as a treat.

this might be the first and last chance she’ll ever get. win or lose, she might never get to hang out with him again.

but whatever, it’s not like she became fond of anyone in the game at all or anything.

“what do you suggest we should do?”

“well, i dunno. have a little walk while lookin’ at the stars? we never really got to. because of the contest!”

he let out a deep sigh.

“…well, okay. maybe just once.”

the two started going down the hill to the direction of the very sixty-foot cliff where they once stood two years ago, when the show first aired.

taco started sprinting to the cliff, so much that oj couldn’t keep up without losing his balance and his juice in the process.

“h-hey! wait up! i thought we were going for a walk!”

“well, not anymooore-!”

she let out a hysterical laugh.

they finally stopped running when they finally reached the end of the cliff.

“ahaha… we’re heeeere-!”

with her left foot, she points at a certain something from the cliff. he thought she was gonna push him off.

“are you crazy!? are you going to push me off the cliff!?”

“not at all-! just look over there!”

all of those obstacles beyond the cliff weren’t even there before. looks like the host is preparing something big for the final contest.

“oooooh, that looks like the final challenge! so cool!”

“it looks like it’s still a work in progress.”

“well, fugget about it! let’s dance!”

“dance? seriously? with the only one left who’s standing in the way between you and the million? ha! let’s be honest right now. you don’t even have arms!”

“um, yeah i do!”

she unsheathes the arms she hid in her shell for so long, with the exception of a few instances where she actually used them.

“happy now?”

“you hid these the entire time!? you could’ve used these to your advantage!”

“oh, don’t worry! i won’t try to use them in the finale! i’ll try to go easy on you, because we both know i’m gonna win! easy!”

the orange glass teases back.

“haha, oh no, you’re not! because the million belongs to me!”

after a little while, she starts to reach her hand onto his.

“so? let’s go?”

“y-yeah! shall we?”

the energetic one got ahead of herself and unknowingly dragged their feet across the ground.

they turn, and they may tumble, but they both seem to enjoy themselves.

they’ll be rivals tomorrow, sure. but they are fellow competitors still in the running tonight. the only ones left, at that.

even if this bond will come to an end once all of this is over, even if the prize can’t go to the both of them,

they’ll enjoy the little time that they’ve had.

and as promised, they danced until they could barely catch their breath. (they didn’t exactly “dance”. none of them know how to dance! all they did was spin around in circles, hand in hand.)

now, they sat on the exact same spot as before. on the top of the hill.

“wow, that was…”

“crazy?”

“yeah, crazy! did you decide to do all this just to make me feel better after i lost paper?”

“well, i did this to make myself better after losing pickle! hahaha…”

“i guess we aren’t really so different. even if you’re kinda dumb sometimes, you did help me a few times with your lemons.”

“and you helped me win the boxing contest because of how fragile you are!”

“uh, correction! i didn’t help you win, i was just completely defenseless from those darn lemons…”

they begin to tease at each other again.

“i’m still riiiight-!”

“no, you’re nooot-!”

both of them let out some chuckles once again. their eyes are becoming heavy, and they have a big day tomorrow.

“well, good night, taco! i’m going to beat you tomorrow!”

“no! i’m gonna win! hahaha!”

the glass of juice has fallen fast asleep. sleeping upright. i guess that’s just how he sleeps just so that his juice wouldn’t spill all over the place.

before she closed her eyes, she hides her arms within her shell once more, gazed upon his resting face, and let out her true smile. a rather menacing smile, indeed— but her feelings were more… sincere.

for the first and the last time, she whispered,

“good night, oj.”

[jujus-bizarre-blog]

Some of my favourite Crooked Kingdom quotes :)

So I finished Crooked Kingdom and this post is gonna be a lot less articulate than my last one about the series because...

Who the actual fuck let the last 100 pages of that novel happen???

They were so entertaining but aside from that they had some of the most beautiful sentiments and prose. So I am going to share my favourites from each character's POV in Part Six: Action & Echo :3

Nina: Page 455

"But she hadn't been made for shame."

"Nina had grieved for her loss of power, for the connection she'd felt to the living world. She'd resented this shadow gift. It had seemed like a sham, a punishment. But just as surely as life connected everything, so did death. It was that endless, fast-running river. She'd dipped her fingers into its current, held the eddy of its power in her hand. She was the Queen of Mourning, and in its depths, she would never drown."

It's such a beautiful sentiment and moment to watch her fully come to love herself again and her new power. I love Nina as a deeply relatable character and this was just so perfect to see her come back to loving and finding herself.

Inej: Page 460

"But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren't chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway."

This gave me chills. Everything about this is utterly gut wrenching and feels incredibly relatable. I reread that line probably 4 times before moving on.

Jesper: Page 471

"It's not a gift. It's a curse. But when it came down to it, Jesper's life had been full of blessings. His father. His mother. Inej. Nina. Matthias leading them across the muddy canal. Kaz--even Kaz, with all his cruelties and failings, had given him a home and a family in the Dregs when Ketterdam might have swallowed him whole. And Wylan. Wylan who had understood before Jesper ever had that the power inside him might be a blessing too."

Jesper realizing that for all the shit luck he has at tables he has been lucky enough to have amazing people in his life. It's just very sweet.

Matthias: Page 483

"Unnatural, said the old, determined voice. Beautiful, said the voice that had spoken the night he'd helped Jesper and Kuwei escape Black Veil. It was newer, less certain, but louder than ever before."

I love this part because it shows just how much Matthias has changed through the two books. It's beautiful and sweet and heartwarming.

Wylan: Page 427

"Wylan summoned every bit of bravado he'd learned from Nina, will he'd learned from Matthias, the focus he'd studied in Kaz, the courage he'd learned from Inej, and the wild, reckless hope he's learned from Jesper, the belief that no matter the odds, somehow they would win."

Okay... I cheated with Wylan's it's from his chapter just before Action & Echo... BUT, I think this sentiment is much more telling than anything in his Part Six chapter. I love this quote because it shows just how much his found family taught him. They're messy, they're brutal, and they're awful, but they are everything to each other. They teach each other, they help, they care, they tease, and that's way more than Wylan ever had at home.

Kaz: Page 480 & 529

"'I also had her stop at the Menagerie.'

She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. it was a smile he thought he might die to earn again."

"'That's the laugh,' he murmured."

The second quote isn't from his chapter, it's from Inej's final one, but it conveys the same thing as the first quote. It shows what Kaz could have been, that somewhere in there he wants to show Inej can take his armour off, that he is willing to do it for her and I think it's just really gratifying to see.

That all being said chapter 42 was so evil. It had me going from sobbing of joy to sobbing of sorrow and back to joy in the span of 3 paragraphs istg. What the actual fuck Leigh Bardugo???

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 7.3 - You Can't Go Home

As they filter off the train, the smell of iron gets further away and Akira finally begins to relax.

He asks her a ton of questions, partly because he's curious and partly because he wants to keep the focus off himself. Alice is in the middle of talking about her class when her body goes rigid.

Akira scans for a threat but comes up empty. Train stations are generally pretty clear of supernatural creatures, except low-level spellcasters and baby vampires at night. They aren’t much use when you can transportalate, turn into a bat, or run for miles in wolf form. And the fae avoid them altogether. 

“You good?” 

She flinches when he reaches for her hand. “I-I’m fine,” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you smoke? Weed, I mean, not cigarettes. I…I think I’m gonna smoke. Do you wanna come with me?”

“I thought you said you had to turn this assignment in,” he reminds her.

She stares across the platform, but he still can’t figure out what she’s looking at. 

“I’ll do it later. And you don’t have to come. That was weird of me to peer pressure you,” her laugh comes out high-pitched and wrong, “You're probably busy. I’m good. I’m gonna go. And you’ll go, and I’ll just see you later.”

She's babbling and her hands are shaking. There is no universe where he just leaves her like this.

“Yeah, I smoke," he takes her hand and leads her to the exit. "And I got time. No classes, remember?”

Akira has been to the Commons a few times (for creeper reasons), but he's never climbed the tower. The air is especially crisp, but Alice doesn't seem bothered by it.

Despite resisting earlier, he finds himself wishing she would extract some promise from him—some commitment to keep him tied to her. It's a terrible idea. He knows better. Akira has always been careful not to break one of the rules he’d learned by brute force.

“This is a shit weed,” he coughs.

“Hey!” Alice playfully points an accusatory finger, “I invite you to my secret perch and share my paltry stash, and you insult me?”

“You need a new dealer if this is your stash.”

“And a new bank account!” She laughs. “Try to chillax, my dude; you are working against the medicinal benefits.”

He tries. His lungs fill, but it takes three more rounds of coughing before he evens out. Alice, meanwhile, is a professional. She barely coughs, though she's had twice as much as him. He's not even sure she's high.

"Why photography?" he asks when she joins him on the bench.

"Most of the time, I get asked about painting; no one even thinks about photography."

He shrugs, "Your focus isn’t Fine Arts. Why am I gonna ask you about something you don’t do? You want me to guess?" When she nods, he waves a hand across the sky, pretending to paint a picture. "Art lets you remake the world in a more pleasing image, which is kind of nice because the world is shit. But you do photography because you want the shitty stuff upfront. No lies. You'd rather tango with the truth."

She straightens, suddenly alert. "Maybe. Kind of. But photography is also lies. All you do when you snap a picture is capture a moment in time. You can still tell yourself a story about the emotion you saw or what really happened. It's just a different kind of lie from painting."

The weed is definitely kicking in, but he likes her explanation.

"So what are you studying?" she asks.

Direct questions are the hardest to dodge. Especially now when he feels like he’s floating a hundred feet in the air. "I'm studying nothing," he says honestly. "I just follow what interests me."

"Why?"

"Because I have a lot of time." Infinite, actually, if he kept his head attached to his body and didn't end up on the wrong side of a curse.

"If I had time, that's what I'd do too. And catch up on back seasons of 7 Wild Dates."

Akira laughs, "Stop. I changed my mind. That show is moving to the bottom of my watch list."

“Don’t be mean!” Alice sticks out her tongue, "That's quality programming you're missing."

They smoke more and talk about nothing, which feels like talking about everything because Alice leaps from topic to topic. She knows a little about a vast number of subjects, like knowledge for her is a series of wading pools and she's just hopping from one body of water to another.

It's how Akira operates too. Once he gets the gist of something, he's ready to move on.

“Tell me one thing about you so you can stop accusing me of hanging out with a stranger," she says, "Where are you from?”

A flash of pink sky. 

A veil that never seems to part.

A home he can’t get back to.

The yearning is so real he jolts. “What if I told you that nothing about me or my life is what it seems? And because I don’t want to lie to you, you’re probably gonna find I won’t answer all your questions. Maybe any of them.”

Alice thinks for a minute. “I guess I’d say tell me what you can, not what you can’t.”

Akira wants to praise her wordplay. He wants to kiss her. He does neither.

“I love horror movies,” he confesses, “When I was like, 10, I snuck into the Moonlight Massacre Marathon at the theater downtown, and I was fuckin’ hooked.” 

The whole story comes tumbling out, even the part about Titania being a little shit and ratting him out to their parents. Alice laughs and complains about her step-sibling, and Akira viciously guards every drop of information she shares with him.

“I like horror movies too. If I throw in Moonlight Massacre II, will that elevate 7 Wild Dates on your watch list?”

His phone buzzes with a reminder about tonight’s job. He gets to his feet. “Next time,” he tells her.

“You promise?”

A promise is a dangerous thing. 

—A binding thing. 

A vow. 

No promises. 

Akira nods, “Yeah, I promise.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 3 of 4)

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - VII

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: It took some time for me to write this chapter but it feels like inspiration is back and I will have more time in December.

Bill could feel the smile on his lips already when he woke up. It felt like the sun was shining on him even if the dark curtains didn't allow any light in. He could see Sienna's face in his mind just as clearly as if she had been lying next to him, and it made him stretch out a hand to feel if she was there. The only thing his hand met was the edge of his laptop, still upright and opened. Like teenagers, they hadn't been able to say goodbye to each other and instead slept next to each other. They had played some sort of horny, silly game where they prepared for bed together and also could show their naked bodies to each other. They really were like teenagers, and Bill could still feel a stiffness in his member. She was so beautiful, and he couldn't understand why she was so shy about letting him see her body, especially the scar from her c-section. He loved it; it showed a story, a part of her, and he couldn't wait to drag his fingertips over it. He looked at the laptop screen, seeing that she had left the chat. He wasn't surprised because she had probably left her son in school and gone to her other job, as a babysitter to a rich family’s two-year-old son. Being a painter didn't always give her enough money to support herself, so she worked for them when it was needed. He was impressed by how she didn't let her dream go, even if it was hard. Her passion was sexy in his eyes.

Bill stood up from bed, still naked after their little game, and walked to the shower. He couldn't stop thinking about Sienna, so he didn't even think about needing to date six other women. Or now it was seven, but he didn't know that until he walked down to the kitchen for breakfast with them all and met Sandra by the stairs.

She had gone home to take care of her father, who had fallen down the stairs, but now she stood there with glowing red hair in a simple white dress. She was beautiful, but nothing could compare to Sienna, even if she most often was dressed in a big t-shirt and soft shorts when they were talking. Bill once again realized how much he actually liked her; he didn't even look at other women the same way anymore.

“Hey?” He said, confused, while walking down the stairs. Sandra looked up at him with a smile.

“I'm back..!” She sang playfully and turned towards Bill, who scratched behind his ear. One more woman to disappoint.

“Yeah.” He forced a smile, but she didn't seem to notice and stretched out her hand towards him. Bill took it doubtfully and gave her a friendly hug.

“How is your father?”

“He’s okay. Now. Or okay enough, he thought I should come back here, so I did.”

Bill smiled, surprised. He couldn't really see how a father could encourage his daughter to fight against other women for a man. He himself thought his daughters were way too good for that.

“Don't let him be wrong,” she teased and twirled her hair between her fingers. Bill laughed, an acted laugh, but then looked towards the kitchen, where he could see Esmeralda looking at them. A lump formed in Bill's stomach. He really didn't want to fool them, but he felt obligated. He just needed to get this done. The next day he would go to New Jersey and finally have Sienna in his arms.

Bill said good morning to all of them but lingered on Esmeralda, who watched him with a warm smile. She would have been the girl he would have picked in the end; he could feel it in his bones, but everything changed the day Sienna came to his bedroom. He hadn't even given her his full attention before that, but everything changed then and there because he could feel himself becoming the man he actually wanted to be by just being in her presence.

“Do you want some coffee?” Asked Rose sweetly, and he looked down at the short girl.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be great,” he answered with a small smile. Coffee was exactly what he needed. Or a whiskey.

They sat down by his long dinner table for breakfast. He could hear them all small talk but not about what. For some paranoid seconds, he imagined them talking about him and Sienna but shook that off.

“Ehm, Bill?”

He looked up at Tiffany’s friendly face next to him. She looked embarrassed, but he realized quickly it was secondhand embarrassment for him.

“You've spilled some yogurt on your shirt…”

He looked down on his dark blue t-shirt, where now dripples of white yogurt stained his chest. He had been too lost in his own thoughts and sighed loudly. He knew he could be clumsy but had hoped it wouldn't come out in front of the women, and especially not be shown on TV.

“Fuck…” He took his napkin to try to rub it away, but a white stain stayed there and reminded him how bad his situation was.

Odette stopped next to him, looking at the stain then his face. She had an envelope between her fingers but was doubtful if she should give it to him at that moment. Bill gave her a strained smile and took the envelope. Better to just get it done. He stood up after he had opened it and read out loud:

“Good morning! No one has missed that you seven women here again, and we welcome Sandra back to the Skarsgård residence…” Bill looked up at Sandra, and some of the girls gave her a halfhearted applaud. No one was really happy to see her, but Bill was the only one who succeeded in looking like he was.

“To welcome her back, she will be the woman going out with Bill on this day.”

Bill looked up and met Violet's eyes. She didn't look that happy at all, and he had heard from Herman that she was annoyed they would once again be leaving his home that weekend. Bill thought to himself that she would have been even more upset if she knew his plans for the weekend. Bill then looked at Maria, who instead looked at Sandra. He could see irritation in her eyes while Sandra just smirked, pleased. He thought to himself that the competition really brought out the worst in the women.

×××

Sandra is back, and I must go out on a date with her. I don't even know her, really. Is she nice? She gives me a bad feeling, but maybe that's just because I don't want to be here.

He sent the message to Sienna and got a quick answer back.

She's nice, but I think she's been a bit irritated that she hasn't gotten so much attention from you. She seems to be irritated with many of the girls also. And she hated that I always sang haha.

Bill smirked to himself while he dressed for the date. He had heard her sing those times they left their call on while they were doing mundane things. She could hit notes, but it was nothing special. It hadn't annoyed him at all and didn't become more than just a background sound.

They continued their conversation, mostly about Sienna's work day and plans for the weekend, while Bill made himself ready for the date. Talking to Sienna made it easier, and it felt less like he cheated on her.

He met Sandra on the porch. They had been told to dress up, but he wasn't prepared for her to wear a long-sleeved sequin dress in silver. He himself wore a light gray suit and a white t-shirt to dress it down a bit. She smiled brightly at him and stood up on her toes in her silver heels to kiss his cheek.

“I've looked forward so much to this!” She said excitedly and took his hand in hers. It was obvious she was really comfortable with touching him, a thing not many of the girls had been. Bill smiled and hugged her hand in his.

“Me too; it feels like we haven't talked that much, and then you left and Sienna and—”

He swallowed hard. Why did he bring Sienna up? Oh right, because he couldn't stop thinking about her and probably just searched for a reason to talk about her.

“...It has been a lot, but now you're back and things will probably calm down,” he added, laughing a little to cover up his mistake. Sandra smiled and laughed too. They were driven in a limousine to their dating spot, a big yacht decorated with fairy lights; light Sandra's sequin dress caught.

“Oh my god! That's so pretty!” Said Sandra and took his hand while they moved to the boat. Bill just smiled and once again thought about Sienna. He knew she had promised her son pizza that night just because he would be sleeping at his grandma's place the whole weekend, so the two of them could have alone time. He looked at Sandra's beautiful profile and then at the yacht. He would rather eat greasy pizza with Sienna and her little son.

Sandra and Bill talked about light subjects, like fashion because of her work and literature because of his work. She was cultivated and intelligent, but still Bill didn't feel a thing. He had always been a monogamist, and when he liked a woman, everyone else faded into the background. He knew it was what was happening; Sienna had taken over his mind, and in such a short time she had wrapped him around her finger.

“So Sienna also left?” Sandra suddenly asked. It felt like he hadn't been completely present until he heard her name, and he looked at Sandra with big eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He answered and nodded slowly. “Personal reasons...” he added and continued to nod. Sandra looked at him in silence. She looked after microexpressions because even if Bill was a good actor, he had shown something when he said Sienna's name. A flash of something had come over his otherwise neutral expression. He could smile and laugh with them all, but this was another positive feeling that was shown in his eyes that she hadn't seen before but that she now could see again.

“Were you disappointed?”

“Hm?” Bill looked at Sandra, trying to win time, and Sandra instead realized she needed to broaden her question to not make it seem like she accused him of something.

“Did you get disappointed when both of us left?”

“Of course. I hadn't spoken much with anyone of you, and Sienna chose to leave-”

Bill swallowed hard. Once again, he had led the conversation to Sienna. “And you were probably in distress because of your father…”

He played around with his food on the plate.

On a boat near them sat Herman in front of a screen, seeing Bill's obvious discomfort, and bit his fist. He could see on Sandra's face that she was suspicious of his behavior. Herman could also see that his friend was really trying to act interested in the date, but Sandra was too quick with reading him.

“Have you even talked?” Asked Sandra after a minute of silence. Bill looked up at her. The candlelight reflected in his big green eyes, and he licked his plump lips. His beauty made Sandra just irritated at that moment, and she crossed her arms.

“Not much when she was here, but everything changed-” Bill sighed deeply. He should have pretended like he didn't understand her question, but his heart seemed to want to talk instead of his head. “Fuck…” he said and dragged his hands over his face.

Sandra scoffed and shook her head in disbelief.

“I came back to a guy who’s hung up on a girl who actually left? By her own choice?”

“It's not that easy,” said Bill with an apologetic voice and looked at her stressed when she stood up from the chair.

“I guess not because here we are, even if you clearly aren't interested in anyone other than her!”

“It wasn't planned, and the production-”

“Bill, Bill, Bill…” Shouted a cameraman and stopped him from talking. Bill looked at them in belief they had stopped filming.

“We don't talk about the production,” continued the cameraman with a headset on, clearly getting directions from someone else. Bill sighed and looked at Sandra, who sat down but with crossed arms.

“Turn this boat around or I will report you for kidnapping,” she said determingly. Bill looked at her, then the cameraman. A few minutes later, the boat turned around.

“I'm sorry, Sandra…” said Bill lowly and dragged a hand over his neck.

“Yeah, yeah. All men are assholes after all,” she accused bitterly. Bill didn't say anything because it wasn't worth the debate. He was, after all, a bit of an asshole.

×××

Bill was really nervous the next morning that Sandra would have spilled the beans to all the women and he would meet an angry mob when he walked down the stairs, but there was nothing like that. Once again, he took his round of saying goodbye to them before they would leave. Neither seemed to be upset. Maria looked hurt though when he moved away when she tried to kiss him, and she wasn't the only one who tried doing that. Esmeralda also tried when she sat down in his lap in her bed. Bill smiled strained when she moved up in his lap, feeling her thigh push against his crotch. He moved carefully so she wouldn't sit as close.

“Is it something?” She asked nervously when he moved, so she sat further out on his thigh.

“No, no. It was just uncomfortable,” he said with a low chuckle.

“Oh,” she laughed softly and dragged her hand over his back.

“It feels like we haven't got so much time together this week. Like, I kind of thought I was your favorite,” she teased and gave him a small smirk. Bill laughed and scratched his ear in discomfort, but Esmeralda just interpreted that as him not being able to talk about that. She knew he couldn't say what he felt in that way, but she was quite sure she was his favorite. It was either she or Tiffany.

“Will you get home this weekend?” He asked, and Esmeralda made a face.

“Yeah, I guess I must. I would rather stay here, with you.”

Bill smiled but felt his heart beat due to bad conscience.

“Yeah…” he said and nodded a little.

“But I understand you want to see your daughters. Of course. And I want to see my son,” she continued, and Bill continued to nod.

“I know you can't talk about your date with Sandra, but... She is a weird one.” Esmeralda lowered her voice like she was afraid someone would hear her. Bill swallowed hard, once again afraid Sandra had said something.

“She acted this morning like she knew you would pick her or something and told us that “we're just here because you can't force us out." Esmeralda laughed in disbelief, shaking her head. She was sure Bill didn't have an interest in Sandra, so Sandra's words didn't make sense. Bill furrowed his brows and faked confusion. He laughed a little, even if he knew Sandra meant something else.

“I can't really talk about this with you, but... That was a strange thing to say,” he just said and patted Esmeralda's thigh. He did it as some sort of apology but stopped when he thought about Sienna. Even such a thing felt wrong.

“It's time to say good-bye now,” he said and demonstratively looked at his watch. Esmeralda nodded and leaned in to kiss his lips, but Bill steered his face away and gave her a hug. Esmeralda tried again, but Bill did the same thing. She looked at him confused and smiled a little, wondering what had changed.

Bill took a deep breath before going to Sandra's room, afraid it would turn into a confrontation, but met an empty room. He wondered silently if she would come back. It didn't really matter if he was honest.

×××

Bill took the flight to New Jersey later that day, a six-hour flight that made his back hurt and his knees sore from the seat in front of him. He hated flying coach and rarely did, but it had been the flight that would have taken him to New Jersey the fastest, where Sienna would wait for him at the airport. While waiting on his suitcase by the conveyor belt, his nerves started to itch his skin. Maybe it would be totally different in reality? Maybe he wouldn't feel a thing? Was it possible it was just a hangup and he would regret every sweet word he had said to her? He almost missed his suitcase because of his loud thoughts but took it and moved towards the exit where Sienna would wait for him, even if his nerves pulled him in all different directions.

He didn't see her at first, and he joked with himself that she had left when she had seen him. He didn't really want to confess to himself; it was a real worry, but it was just then he saw her. She wore a white tube top and a denim skirt, perfectly matching his white t-shirt and jeans, and had her shoulder-length hair up in a half-updo. She smiled brightly, and Bill could feel how his nerves changed from pessimistic to optimistic and almost drunkenly excited. She was gorgeous. He felt his heart beat like a drum in his chest and his fingers around the handle of his suitcase shook. Was he in love already? Could it be so fast?

“Hey…” said Sienna shyly and looked up at his broad smile. She giggled a little, and he felt his confidence go up.

“Hey Sienna,” he said and played with the handle of his suitcase. They watched each other closely, just as full of hormones as teenagers, and Bill finally dared to lay his hand on her cheek and bend down to kiss her glossy lips. She giggled excitedly into the kiss, and Bill smiled and kissed her again more determined. He let his forehead linger against hers and looked into her hazel eyes.

“Shit Sienna… God, what are you doing to me?”

She smiled brightly, and this time she took the initiative to kiss him, but Bill was the one to deepen it, so they stood and made out way too intimately at the airport. It felt like they had waited so long to be near each other, even if it was just two weeks. They already knew so much about each other; still, this was the first time they actually touched each other. Bill felt a stir in his lower belly and knew it was time to stop. He made a humming sound when they pulled away from each other, and Sienna dragged her hands over his muscular chest.

“Wow,” she said with almost a moan, and Bill smiled playfully. He had thought he knew what he searched for in the show, but this was so much more. None of the other girls had been close to making him feel this way. It felt like he was flying while they walked hand in hand to Sienna's little Kia.

×××

Bill didn't care that they lived different kinds of lives, that he earned more money, had a more luxurious lifestyle, and lived bigger, but it was obvious Sienna was embarrassed when he looked around in her small one-bedroom apartment. The bedroom was her son's room, a kid's bed, and a desk with zebra toys standing in a row, from biggest to smallest. One of the walls was covered with Winnie the Pooh with friends. It was made by Sienna, and Bill smiled to himself. The living room was so small her couch stood in line with her bed. She had a smaller TV, but otherwise the living room was full of canvases, both painted and empty ones.

“I've tried to find a bigger apartment, but..." She stretched the truth while trying to find a place for Bill's suitcase. Her eyes were downcast, gazing at the floor the whole time. Bill took her hand in his and pulled her close to his body.

“You really inspire me, you know that?” He said it with a smile. Sienna furrowed her brows and laughed in disbelief.

“Yeah? Thinking about writing about someone poor?” She laughed again and looked away. Bill took hold of her chin and gave her a kiss.

“You fight for your dream and do it well. You work hard and embrace your talent.”

Sienna smiled with a blush and then kissed him again.

“You explained yourself now.”

Bill chuckled and shook his head.

“Shut up.”

“Did you tell me to shut up?” She said, amused, and looked at him with big eyes.

“Yes.” He looked at her with sultry eyes and then kissed her passionately. Sienna let go of his suitcase so it fell to the floor and as she drowned in his kiss. A few seconds she wanted to cry because she had given up meeting a man like him, but the lust took over when his lips moved down her neck and chest. His lips were so soft and full, nothing like any man she had been with before. She breathed heavily and dragged her hands over his chest and upper arms, wanting to feel skin but couldn't find it. Bill understood what she searched for and pulled off his t-shirt fast so his hair got messed up. It didn't matter though because Sienna dragged her hands through it while they kissed, then daring to touch his broad chest and abs. She moaned by seeing and touching his body finally, but Bill thought it was his kisses. He, in his turn, pulled down her top together with her strapless bra and dragged his hands over her chest. When he realized he couldn't kiss her breast without bending down uncomfortably, he pulled her up over his hips and carried her to the queen-sized bed in the corner. He sucked her nipple until it got stiff and then nibbled it lightly. Sienna didn't know what to do with herself when she looked down at Bill. He was so gorgeous and now made her feel her panties stick to her skin. Maybe it was too early to sleep with him, but she didn't care. It felt right. 

Garment after garment was pulled off until they could finally see every part of their skin. Sienna swallowed hard by seeing his physique. He didn't have anything to be ashamed of; he was broad, slim, and big in the right places. She followed the lines on his hips down to his member with her fingers while he stood on his knees between her legs. She smiled with a blush but became uncomfortable when Bill moved down and started kissing the scar on her lower belly. 

“You're so beautiful,” he said when he noticed her tense up. 

“Not there,” she said with a laugh. She tried to sound like she was joking, but her voice was full of doubt. 

“Everywhere…” he answered and kissed the scar again. Sienna smiled and relaxed under his lips but tensed up later for other reasons, his lips right where she wanted them…  

××× 

They lay together tightly between Sienna’s cherry-red sheets. She didn't want anything else than to lie like that with him but was almost afraid to do so. He had become hard twice now, while they cuddled and gave her a hard pounding instead, so hard she now was sore. She had loved it, but now she wanted to lay just like that, on his chest, dragging her finger tips over his soft skin. 

“I haven't… Been intimate with anyone for several years,” she confessed suddenly, and Bill looked down at her while she looked up. 

“Actually, I haven't been with anyone since I was with my son's father…” 

Bill dragged his fingers through her hair, waiting for her to tell him about it her way.

“I guess you've understood he isn't a part of our life…” 

Bill nodded a little but didn't say anything; letting her continue with her own words. 

“I was 22 when I got pregnant. We had been together for two years, but... I was the other woman. He was married, and I waited for him for two years…” 

She talked with a low gaze but didn't cry, even if Bill wouldn’t have minded if she had needed to. He swallowed hard. Cheating was a big no-no for him, but he could see in this situation that Sienna was young, in love, and naive. She also seemed to understand that it was a bad decision. 

“He said he would leave his wife and be with us, but... It never happened. I waited and waited... Ah shit, stupid, stupid… I really thought he would leave her even if he didn't even contact me anymore. I just… Waited. Then he showed up one day, just like that, divorced and suddenly wanted a new chance. But when he realized his son wasn't ‘normal,' he left again.” Sienna shook her head, like all of it was silly. Bill looked at her carefully and finally spoke up. 

“We all do stupid shit when we're in love... He sounds like a fucking idiot, though... Who wouldn't want to be with you?” 

Sienna looked up at him with a smile, but it fell slowly. 

“Sometimes I can't sleep because I just think about his wife, or his ex-wife, I mean. It feels like I should say I'm sorry, but I also can imagine that she doesn't want to meet me, not think about me. I don't know if she knows about me or that her husband has a son behind her back. I don't really know anything. Just his side of it.” 

“No… I don't think either is a good idea to say you're sorry; what's done is done, and she has moved on and so have you. Don't beat up on yourself because of that. It wasn't you who broke her heart; it was him.” 

Sienna nodded a little and moved up so she could kiss Bill's lips, then she laid down next to him.

“The weird feeling is that I can't regret it because I got a son from it, you know? My worst decision ever gave me the person I love the most in the entire world.”

Bill smiled a little, then he looked up at the ceiling, he was thinking about something, and Sienna stayed quiet so he could catch his thoughts. 

“I felt the same. I was only 22 when Kate got pregnant. She was a student in Toronto, where I was filming, and we… Hooked up a few times. I really liked her, but I couldn't see it as something serious. I lived in a suitcase and dreamed about having a big acting career, and then... ‘Im pregnant.’ I wasn't prepared at all. I had just started my career and wanted to party, travel, take drugs…” He laughed to himself and rubbed his eye. “I just thought ‘abortion’. ‘Abortion, abortion, abortion' but she didn't want to do that. She said she would do everything by herself, but that didn't feel good at all, so... I moved to Toronto full time. We weren't a couple or anything at first, but we fell in love during the process, and, yeah, we became a real family.” Sienna looked at Bill with big eyes. She felt honored that he told her about it, something he hadn't talked about in interviews or shared in any other way. 

“When did you get married?” 

“2014. Like a year after our oldest was born. Her family was much more conservative than mine, so... Not that I didn't want to get married to her. I loved her so much, but I didn't really understand why it was so important. I kind of understood it when she left us, though... Me and the girls inherited everything, and all the costs and so on fell on me. It was easy and gave us time to grieve instead…” 

Sienna looked at him with big eyes, and he could see that she had questions. 

“It's okay that you ask things; I just don't like talking with strangers about it all.” 

"Ehm,” she looked down because she felt a bit awkward asking anyway, but after a while she took the courage to do it. 

“Your youngest is born in 2019, the year Kate also died... Was she pregnant while she was sick?” 

Bill nodded; he sat up against the wall, and Sienna did the same with her eyes on his profile. 

“Yeah, they found the tumors while she was pregnant, and she refused to end the pregnancy and get chemo. They said she could probably wait until after the birth with it, but it grew faster than they thought and-” He took a deep breath, and Sienna crawled closer to him and took his hand in hers. Bill's eyes were shiny, but he closed them instead of letting the tears fall. “She died two months after the birth.” Sienna hugged his side, and Bill finally let the tears run down his cheeks. When he had taken some deep breaths, Sienna dared to ask her next question. 

“What kind of cancer was it?” 

“Ehm, brain cancer. It had already spread when they found it.” 

Sienna nodded and dragged her hand over his chest. Both of them carried a painful story, but his was heavier, and she could understand why he had been single for such a long time. 

“But why did you become a writer and not an actor?” She asked after a while of just breathing together. The question lightened the mood, and Bill smirked a little. 

“I guess it's just a coincidence? My plan was to be an actor. I have acted since I was a kid, and my family are actors, but during the pregnancy I started to write, and Kate pushed me to send it to a publisher and... One thing led to another. I don't think I would be a writer if I hadn't met Kate. I would probably continue to act if I got roles,” he said with a smirk. Sienna looked at him amused. 

“I watched everything I could find with you. It was just a couple, but—” 

“No? What? No?” He interrupted her and laughed uncomfortably. “Shit that series was... Fuck, it was so fucking silly in the end!” He laughed and dragged his hands through his hair. Sienna laughed at his uncomfortable behavior and shrugged her shoulders. 

“You were cute, though. I did like Simple Simon a lot.” 

Bill looked at her with a warm smile and nodded a little. He could understand why, and in that moment he was also thankful he had done that role; his understanding of autism was thanks to that role. Simon would always be with him, and he hoped he could get his help when he met Sienna's son. 

For a few seconds, they just looked at each other with understanding smiles. It felt like they had a bond they didn't have before, a respect for each other that didn't come so easily. Both of them then made the move to kiss deeply, softly, and lovingly all at the same time. Their feelings were like fire crackers in their chests. 

××× 

The weekend was full of romance and silly newly in love activities, but still no one of them dared to say what they were actually feeling. It was too soon, and even when they stood at the airport close together, neither of them said anything, even if both of them could feel the words tickle their throats. Instead, they kissed some more and hugged goodbye as close as they could. Sienna did have worry weighing on her chest, something Bill didn't have, but he wasn't the one knowing she would go home to seven other men. He would go home to seven women who all wanted to crawl down in his bed. Sienna felt she could trust Bill to not play with her heart, but she was worried he would fall for one of the others instead, like Esmeralda. No one had missed that they had chemistry, but she also forced down those feelings while saying goodbye; she didn't want their last time together to be spent talking about other women. Slowly they let go of each other, and then Bill left her standing by herself in the big hall. He turned to look at her and thought to himself that as soon as he could, he would make his home to hers.

××× 

Even if Bill was bigger, taller, and stronger than all the people by his dinner table, he felt small when all four of them looked at him with disappointed looks. Herman was one of them, the female producer another; the other two were represented by the network channel that would air the program.

“This is not good, Bill. We can't save this. If Sandra tells the other women, all of them will leave, and we don't have a show,” said the female producer, Precious Daniels. Bill blinked slowly, even if he felt panic in his chest. He wondered if they could sue him for this or something and he would see his daughters secured future, his home, car, but also his reputation disappear. 

“What, what do you want to do then?” He stuttered and looked between the four people. 

“We must talk with Sandra. Write a contract with her, pay her off...” continued Precious and gave Bill a strict glare so he would feel ashamed. In that moment he did because he might have handled this unprofessionally. But his emotions had taken over, and when a memory of Sienna laughing so hard she had spit wine on him came to mind, the shame disappeared, and instead he smirked a bit to himself. 

“Bill?” Sighed Herman, he had probably understood Bill had disappeared into much more pleasant thoughts, and Bill looked up at his friend and rubbed his eyes. 

“We must come up with a long-term solution to this, and the network has agreed to just do ten episodes instead of twelve, but for this to work, you must cooperate, not just... disappear to New Jersey,” continued Herman with a serious expression. Even if he sounded hard, he had Bill's interest in mind. He really tried to make everything as easy for Bill as possible, but it was hard when so much money was on the line. Bill nodded and gazed down at the table. 

“So do you have any ideas?”

Now one of the network representatives cleared her throat and fixed her short hair while looking at Bill's full lips. 

“Well, we must have three more ceremonies with the women, then we need an episode, a staged one, when you search for Sienna, and then we have the reunion that will be its own episode.” 

Bill looked nervous. He knew what that meant. A reunion episode meant drama. Herman had in the beginning promised to make such a thing short and easy, but now it would be a full episode. A full episode for the women to be angry, but he didn't have a choice. 

“Okay, okay,” he said with a sigh and nodded to himself. He just wanted it all to end. 

×

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

I'm excited with how much this one will hurt me (Ruggie's Dream):

We are now in Afterglow Savannah, and the group (Grim, Sebek, Idia and Ortho) is teaching Jack how to use "Dream Form Change" and bro's too hesitant to say it 😭, he evens mention that it's just like the shows his sister watches. But the group continues to egg him on until he actually said it and everyone's just excited for it (except for Silver and Azul).

So in the background, we see a statue of the birth of Simba scene from the Lion King, it's said that this scene is often referenced in children's books.

The group then brought up one detail: why aren't there any statues of hyenas bowing? That's when Jack mentions an old theory, that the statue was made during the time the hyenas weren't serving the King of The Beasts and Afterglow Savannah yet. Because people believed that the hyenas lived in the "Land of Shadows" (or the "Outlands") and had their own rules.

It's also believed that lions have been kings for a long time. But despite beastfolk being scattered all across Twisted Wonderland now, their origins can be traced back to Afterglow Savannah. Jack also tell us that his family are immigrants who moved to the Land of Pyroxene.

We actually go into a bit of real-world issues here as the group talks about how Afterglow Savannah values of the co-existence of their people with nature despite urban development plans. That's when Idia brought up Leona's choice of joining a mining and energy research institue for his internship and how it highlights a current issue of his country. Ortho then tells us that mining can help a country prosper but it clashes with the traditional life of the residents, which is why the issue is seen as controversial.

The issue of excessive mining is also brought up, because if that happens people can be forced out of their homes. But with Leona joining the institute to learn about its programs and possible plans to understand the issue from the other side, shows that he really does care about his people 🥹

THEN THE OWNER OF THE DREAM APPEARS AND HE'S RUNNING LATE TO CLASS (very school girl behavior if you ask me)

This actually makes me sad because as we're passing through the market, we can see that Ruggie's dream is just life treating him better. Because his father comes home with a great fortune (they really pulling the father comes home with the milk route on him huh 😭), everyone and everything in the community is thriving with vendors handing food to Ruggie because he slept late and not because he missed a meal, and Ruggie's worries being about an exam he might miss and not how to survive to see the next day. Once again, we get hit with the reality that all of this is just Ruggie's imagination.

We end up in a school called "Ivorycliff Academy" where most students are hyena beastfolk. It also has a statue of the hyenas we see in the Lion King as well. The academy actually holds hyenas with high regard, seeing them as important figures for fighting alongside the King of The Beasts for their rights.

The academy also has an abundance of fruit trees to the point you can just pluck a fruit off the tree and eat it (had those in my old school but we were never allowed to eat the fruit smh 😒). Because of this Grim couldn't hold himself back and proceeds to eat the fruit from the trees, which causes some chaos because he's seen by students and Ruggie nearly called security on them but luckily Azul comes in with a save, telling Ruggie that Grim belongs to them and that they're exchange students.

Sebek berates Grim for causing trouble because he got hungry, but he's no better because his stomach starts growling too 😭 but Ruggie told them to feel free to eat with them since hyenas share the spirit of solidarity. He relates this to his own experience that he can't ignore other people when they're hungry.

Ruggie brings the group to a donut stall and shows us his favorite combo - a plain donut with chocolate sauce, topped with sliced fruits, custard, fresh cream, and lastly some berry jam - The Ruggie Special if you would. He gives the donut to Sebek, who eats it all in one bite. He also prepared a mountain of donuts for the group and Azul's just concerned with the amount of calories 😭

We also learn from the vendor of the donut stall that Leona was the one who established the academy. In this dream, Ruggie doesn't know Leona personally but he really looks up to him here; because Leona used his knowledge from studying abroad to build schools just like Ruggie's. He's even more popular than Farena amongst the country's youth. But then the bell rings and Ruggie leaves the group to go to class.

But then the vendor of the donut stall suddenly turns into the darkness and attacks the group, Ortho warns the group that Malleus' presence is strong so they must wake Ruggie FAST

Jack says that he doesn't want to wake Ruggie up because he's so happy in his dream. But Azul tells him that in reality, Ruggie isn't always happy and that they should wake him up for the sake of his body, because he's receiving zero calories and his real grandma is alone and probably worried sick about him.

We then remembered what happened during Book 4 where Ruggie brought food for the people in his community during winter break and they come to the realization that he wouldn't want to be stuck in the dream world when the people he cares for are still suffering in the real world. This is where Azul proposes his plan.

So Ruggie's with a group of people going to the cinema to see a movie when Azul suddenly drops a coin in the ground, 1 thaumark/madol to be exact. Ruggie stops when he hears the noise and suddenly doesn't understand what's happening to him, like something calling him.

Azul increases the amount slowly from 1 thaumark/madol to 5 thaumarks/madols, this caused Ruggie to slowly lose his mind and separate from his group to look for the source. That's when Azul pulls out 100 thaumarks/madols.

Everyone's wondering why he's dropping money all over the place, that's when Azul mentions that when Ruggie sometimes takes shifts in Mostro Lounge, he can immediately the amount of money someone dropped based on the noise (like a coin buff if you think about it). Because there was one time someone dropped money by accident and he managed to guess the exact amount of 753 thaumarks/madols. He also manages to find the location just by the noise (wish my coin buff was like that fr 😔)

Anyways look at Ruggie in the Octavinelle uniform, so cute

Everyone's surprised about this discovery, even Idia said that it's like a buff you get in an RPG.

But anyways, Ruggie manages to find the money and wonders why he suddenly feels happy about it; this causes the dream to start distorting. Azul strikes in a moment of weakness and shows Ruggie 500 thaumarks/madols.

That's when Azul throws the money into the fountain and Ruggie jumps in immediately to look for it (I think that part explains Ruggie's groovy? Correct me if I'm wrong tho). Then Azul just laughs at him (what an asshole 😭 but Yuu gets mad at him for it)

This actually wakes Ruggie up and the group of people he was with approaches him and the first thing he does when he's back on his senses is to complain about the color of their uniform 💀 and that he doesn't give a damn if it gets dirty, preferring the NRC black colored uniform better.

The group tells him not to be behave that way because they're meant to be affiliated with the king. But Ruggie's like "King? I'll choose which King I'll serve." which turns them into shadows.

Once the shadows are defeated, Ortho explains to Ruggie that everything was just a dream; which causes him to breakdown completely.

He cries about how all the food was fake, and when he goes home his dad isn't there and his grandma won't get a new car. Idia isn't helping with the situation either because when Ruggie asks if Malleus was a heartless person, he proceeded to responded "erm actually he's a fae 🤓" (would've killed him just saying 🤷‍♀️)

Ruggie calms down and suggests we go find Leona because if there's anyone who wants to fight Malleus, it's most definitely him. Jack agrees, saying that Ruggie is the best person to wake him up knowing that he does that every morning.

The update ends with Ruggie joining the gang as we go to Leona's dream.

And that's it for the first part of the Savanaclaw update! Keep in mind the second part covering Leona's dream will be released on November 29, so stay tuned then!

Previous: Jack's Dream Next: Leona's Dream

(Note: This post is a summarized version of the update, info and pics comes from @/LBucchie and @/WitchDrug on x/twt, give them some support if you can)