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zablife · 2 years ago

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As Long As I Live (Part 1)

Tommy Shelby & Amelia Holland (OC) x Bonnie Gold

Summary: Tommy's long lost daughter appears at Arrow House and quickly becomes a beloved part of the family. What happens to their relationship when that peace is shattered by his newfound political aspirations and the only way to protect her is to send her away again with the one person she cannot abide?

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt.

Warnings: language, fighting, use of a weapon, mention of blood, mention of a curse

“I know you stole it!”

“I did not!”

“Give it back!”

“Can’t steal what was mine in the first place, stupid cow!”

“You lying, thieving little bitch!”

The shouting could be heard from across camp, voices of two teenage girls turning to shrill cries as a fight broke out between them. The oldest, Tess, gave a forceful shove to the younger girl who had so brazenly stolen from her that very morning. However, Tess underestimated her smaller, but more aggressive opponent who rushed her, forcing them both to the ground with a great thud.

At sixteen, Amelia had been in enough fights to be considered a decent brawler. Had she been a lad, she would have been making money at the fair instead of entangling herself in silly squabbles at camp. Her temper left her little time to think of consequences, however, as was the case today.

While the girls wrestled, Tess clawed at Amelia’s neck threatening, “Give it back and I won’t scratch your eyes out.” Using her weight to roll them both through the mud, Amelia climbed on top of Tess, planting her knees firmly into the soil and spitting in Tess’s face.

“It’s mine!” Amelia asserted through gritted teeth, remembering how the jewelry used to shine brightly as it hung from her mother’s neck. She placed both hands around Tess’s throat as a blinding rage overtook her and Tess’s eyes grew wide at the constriction of her airway. Desperate to save herself, her hand shot out from her side and yanked down hard on Amelia’s long, dark hair with enough force to move her entire body. Amelia’s scalp burned with a searing pain as Tess came away victorious with a large clump of hair. “Worried you’ll be uglier than you already are?” she taunted. “No one wants you anyway, pathetic little orphan.”

Amelia scrambled to find her footing, thinking only of revenge, and shoved her hand into her boot, searching for her flick knife. As Tess’s fist connected with her side, Amelia let out a soft grunt. Hunched over, the blade of her knife was concealed from view and Tess never saw the swift motion as Amelia swiped up and cut Tess across the cheek. Stumbling backward and clutching her face, the girl screamed, forcing several people outside to investigate.

Amelia’s aunt Zelda was one of the first to see what had happened, gasping at the sight of blood dripping from Tess's face. Realizing the severity of the incident, she pulled Amelia away by her elbow to the privacy of their vardo as quickly as possible. Once inside, she slapped her across the face asking, “What the bloody hell have you done now, Amelia?”

The sting to her cheek brought her back to reality and Amelia gulped, suddenly aware of what she’d done. “She…she said I stole her necklace. But…but...it's mum's, Aunt Zelda. She stole it first!” She said, words rushing out in hopes she would be believed.

Zelda closed her eyes, exhaling a long, loud sigh. “Christ almighty, Amelia!” she said with a shake of her head. “We’ve talked about this, girl. You can’t be fightin’ no more!”

“But…didn’t you hear me? She stole mum’s necklace!” Amelia wailed, trying to explain herself one final time.

“No, she didn’t,” Zelda insisted. Amelia looked on in confusion. Her mother had been very clear when she was ill that the gold necklace with the beautiful blue stone was the one possession that was not to be put on the fire. She wanted to leave part of herself with her daughter who would be all alone in the world with no parents or siblings to comfort her.

“I sold it,” Zelda said matter-of-factly. “Times have been hard. You know that."

“You had no right to sell what was mine!” Amelia cried, closing her fist over the pendant.

“The hell I didn't! I’ve been doin’ my best to raise ya and it’s a thankless job. You do nothin’ but cause me trouble.” As she spoke, she began to gather Amelia’s things, packing them hastily. "I have my own little ones to think of, you know."

“Are you throwing me out? Where do you expect me to go?” Amelia’s head swam as she watched her aunt move in dizzying circles around her.

Finally slowing her movements, Zelda plopped down on the bed and brought a hand to her forehead. She exhaled deeply before answering, “I need to tell you the truth about something.”

“About what?” Amelia asked hesitantly.

“Your father. He didn’t die in the war like your mum told you,” she waited for a moment as Amelia took in the new information, then continued. “He might as well have. He couldn’t care for you back then, but I hear his circumstances have changed.” Standing from the bed and handing her the bag she declared firmly, “It’s time he took some responsibility.”

“That’s crazy, I don’t know anything about him. He doesn’t know me,” Amelia argued.

“Still, he’ll do what’s right unless he wants a curse on his head,” Zelda warned. Amelia didn’t dare continue when her aunt held that look in her eye. She had seen what her aunt was capable of and didn’t wish to go against her. The decision had been made and there was nothing to do except take the horse that was given to her and ride off with the directions she was given to start a new life.

——————————

Tommy stood at his office window, listening to the crackling fire and the gentle whistle of the wind through the chimney. There was no one else awake this time of morning besides the chef preparing a lavish breakfast Tommy had no intention of eating. As was his habit most mornings, he would neglect the ample offerings on the dining table in favor of his cigarettes and coffee. Today would be no different as he had stacks of paperwork to review before returning to London later in the week. Despite the waiting obligations, Tommy had an anxious feeling crawling under his skin as he looked out over the thick fog that blanketed Arrow House. Something about quiet mornings always made him uneasy as bitter experience had taught him to be wary of such things.

He tried to shake the feeling as he returned to his desk and sort through some paperwork, but outside Johnny Dogs and a few of the junior peaky boys had taken up Tommy’s watch. As the sharp, hollow clip of horse hooves grew louder, Isaiah turned to Johnny with a fretful gaze. “Thought you said there weren’t any visitors expected today, Johnny.”

“None that Tommy knew about,” he replied, craning his neck for a better look down the road. However, the fog made it impossible to tell who might be approaching. Isaiah checked his gun in case of trouble as did two of the other men, ready to defend the house if necessary. It was a time of peace for the family, but they could never be certain as new threats didn’t give them the courtesy of a formal announcement.

As a white stallion appeared between the stone pillars at the end of the long drive, Isaiah walked out to meet what appeared to be a female rider. The horse ambled toward him slowly until Amelia stopped completely looking down at the man in her path. “Is this Arrow House?” she asked.

“Depends on who’s askin’, love,” he said with a smile, taking hold of the horse’s bit. Amelia set her jaw determinedly, tired and sore from riding. She didn’t wish to play games.

“My aunt sent me, Zelda Holland,” Amelia conceded.

“That name doesn’t mean a thing to me,” Isaiah said, suddenly stone faced and suspicious of her motives. After the business years ago with the crazy Russian woman, he knew women could be just as treacherous as men. He had half a mind to interrogate her thoroughly before sending her back where she came from even though she looked exhausted and ready to fall from her horse at any moment.

“If you would let me pass, I’ll prove I have business at this house,” she said more firmly. The cold and damp had set into her bones and she longed for the warmth of a fire, but she wouldn’t beg for charity.

“No one here knows you, girl. You're obviously lost. Why don’t you turn around and go home where you belong,” he suggested, guiding the horse to face the opposite direction and giving it a slap on the haunches. The horse trotted a short distance before Amelia stubbornly turned back and galloped toward the assembly of men at full speed, her eyes blazing with anger. As she approached, the horse reared up on its hind legs making them scramble out of the way before its hooves pounded back down to the ground. "Are you fuckers going to let me inside or do I have to break down the bloody door? I'll not ask twice" she yelled, chest heaving with indignation.

“Now just who do you think you are lass?” Johnny asked, feet shuffling through gravel quickly. He tried to place the young woman with dark, free flowing curls and olive skin. He was immediately struck by her large, crystalline blue eyes and he mumbled, “Izzy, is that you?” Everyone knew Isidora Holland was dead and yet here was a woman who looked just like her with a temper to match.

“No, my name's Amelia. I'm her daughter,” she said with a toss of her head, letting the wind blow the hair from her face.

“Well I’ll be damned. Why didn't you say so," he said with an astonished grin. Then turning serious he chided, "We could've done without all that, Amelia," gesturing with his hand in the air toward the horse, referring to her theatrics. Amelia looked away, embarrassed by her brief show of emotion. She accepted Johnny's hand as he offered it, easing herself down from her horse with a groan. Johnny helped with her pack as Isaiah came to stand next to him, confusion evident in his expression. “What in God’s name are ya doing here, child?” Johnny asked.

“I came to meet my father,” she said, turning her head in all directions to take in the grand estate before her. A harsh wind whipped Amelia’s skirts as she gazed upon the biggest house she’d ever seen. Bitter cold nipped at her fingers as she took up her bag from Johnny and slung it over her shoulder, head held high as she asked, “Where can I find Thomas Shelby?”

Read Part 2

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Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@dreamlandcreations

@moral-terpitude

@look-at-the-soul

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@cillmequick

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@floraroselaughter

@kmhappybunny240

@dandelionprints

@gypsy-girl-08

@watercolorskyy

@l1-l4

@babayaga67

@rangerelik

@runnning-outof-time

@mythos-writes

#Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Bonnie Gold fanfic #Bonnie Gold #Bonnie Gold imagine #Bonnie Gold x OC

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4xthemoon · 2 months ago

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Phoenix and the Frost

Type: One Shot

Word Count: 983

Relationship: Implied CapitanoxMavuika

Summary: Capitano confronts Mavuika about an injury she has been hiding.

—————————

“Mavuika.” Capitano’s voice overtook the silence. The pyro Archon had just snuck away from the celebration of victory, her mind racing to make the final preparations for her final attack, to save her people from the abyss once and for all. She wasn’t startled by the Captain’s presence, she was well aware he had been tailing her back to her office. His icy aura could be felt from miles away, a striking contrast from their surroundings.

Mavuika straightened her posture, an attempt to hide how badly her side ached. She hoped that whatever he wanted would not be difficult, her body was desperate for the rest she had denied it. “Captain.”

“You’re injured.” Capitano stated from his spot across the room. Mavuika’s muscles tensed at the accusation, causing her wound to pulse with pain.

“Pardon?” Capitano ignored her oblivious question, and stepped closer, his boots heavy against the ground. She had a feeling his eyes had narrowed at her.

“When were you planning on seeing a healer?” Mavuika couldn’t help but laugh, the injury he was talking about wasn’t anything to be concerned over, a stray arrow had nicked her side, it was barely deep enough to warrant stitches, and wasn’t worth bothering an already busy doctor. She hadn’t cleaned it up yet, dried blood still caked against her side, flaking off against her leather jumpsuit.

“You were staring.” She couldn’t help but tease, she could see why he was an accomplished leader, little went under his nose. Capitano remained silent, it was almost comical, whatever reaction he had concealed perfectly. Mavuika rolled her eyes, she could tell he wasn’t going to say anything more until she answered his question. “I wasn’t going too.”

“Why?” Mavuika doesn’t think she’ll ever be used to the way his voice dominated the room.

Mavuika crossed her arms, leaning against her desk for support. “It’s nothing.” It didn’t hurt that badly, and she was sure that a long soak in a hot spring was the only thing needed to rid the ache. Not that the Captain would understand the injuries minority. The only thing he knew was that she had been struggling not to limp to her office.

“Hmph, only a fool would let an injury go unchecked.” Mavuika raised her brows, his seeming care unexpected. If anything, her weakness just gave him another opening to snag her gnosis. Any other Harbinger would’ve been sure to do so. But Capitano simply stood still, watching her.

“It’s just a scratch, none of your concern.” A scratch was toning it down just a bit, it was certainly more than that, but the longer they stood here, the more her skin grew aggravated.

“A scratch is still likely to grow infected.” He closed the distance between them, Mavuika directed her gaze upwards to meet his. “If you refuse to see a healer, then at least let me look at it.”

“Excuse me?” Mavuika could hardly hold back her shock at his suggestion. “Tell me, Captain, what type of Archon would I be if it became known that I willingly let a Harbinger inspect my injury?” Capitano’s helmet tilted downwards.

“A smart one.” He replied as if it were the obvious answer. “Now,” he held out his hand, expecting her to comply.

“If I let you look, will you leave?” It was the only thing she could barter at the moment, her body demanded the rest she had been denying it, and arguing with the man in front of her was even more exhausting. His suggestion was outrageous, but she found herself too tired to really care about the potential consequences.

“Yes.” At least he wasn’t one to yap on, always one to get straight to the point. She appreciated that aspect of him, it made any disagreements far more efficient to deal with, it did however, make his stubbornness more than apparent. Mavuika sighed, thankful that all it took was a slight tug to her leather outfit before the wound was revealed.

“If you do anything other than look I will punch you.” She threatened, and she meant it too. Capitano kneeled beside her, his cape pooling at his feet. She looked forward, waiting for him to be finished. She jumped when a cold metal brushed against her skin, her head immediately turning to where Capitano had his armored hand pressed against her side. “Captain, I meant what I said.” Her fiery eyes bore into the back of his helmet, threatening to burn him.

“You need stitches.” Capitano continued to ignore her. “If you cannot take care of yourself, how can I trust you to take care of Natlan?” His head tilted, continuing to inspect the wound. He pulled out a handkerchief, encasing it in a small layer of frost before wiping it against the dried blood. Mavuika’s breath hitched at the coolness against her inflamed skin.

“You should know I care more about Natlan than I do myself.” She didn’t know why she let him continue to clean her wound, or when her body relaxed at his gentle ministrations. “I did not know the Fatui was so caring towards their enemies.”

Capitano hummed, shoving his handkerchief back into a concealed pocket. “You are not my enemy, are you?”

Mavuika let her jumpsuit slide back into place, concealing the wound again. She was relieved to find out that the dried blood no longer scratched at her skin, the wound was still open, but the bleeding had been taken care of.

She watched Capitano stand to his feet, facing her again as he put distance between them. “Is that all?” It was hard to believe he had only come to check on her, not to bargain for her gnosis, or argue about the fate of Natlan.

“Yes.” He replied, leaving before she could question his actions. Mavuika stood in the same spot she had been, perplexed by what had just occurred.

#genshin impact #mavuika #capitano #fatui harbingers #natlan #natlan spoilers #genshin fanfic #oneshot #hurt/comfort #rivals to lovers #mavuika x capitano #the captain #hmph #shipping

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silver-ink-iron-words · 2 years ago

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Thanks for the requests! I love this hobby so much, and you guys are a huge part of that

I think this'll be the end of the story. Feel free to ask for an epilogue if you want :)

---

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The Sunny Side, Part 6

“Be careful,” the hero said into their earpiece. “Security’s extra heavy tonight.”

“Worried about me?”

The hero could see the villain across the large banquet hall, disguised as a party guest. Whenever they spoke to the hero, they turned their head in just the right way so that nobody saw them supposedly talking to themself.

“I just don’t want to have to break your sorry ass out of jail again.” The hero moved through the crowd with their head down, offering drinks as they went.

“Well, then I suggest you work your magic.”

With a put-upon sigh, the hero began to subtly shift the mood of the room. As they handed out hors d’oeuvres, guests became more cheerful and relaxed – much less likely to notice anything amiss. Once the room had eased enough, they gave the signal, and the villain left to execute phase two of the plan.

The hero slipped through the side exit and into a small hallway. They let out a little breath of relief. Now all that was left was to change out of their waitstaff uniform, meet the villain upstairs, and incapacitate the guard. Easy peasy.

The hero started to move towards the bathrooms. Only for a hand to shoot out and grab them. The hand yanked them into a supply closet, and another one muffled the hero’s scream.

“[Hero], it’s – ” the stranger began, before the hero elbowed them in the stomach.

Then, the hero paused. “Lightheart?”

The hero’s old acquaintance coughed and smiled through her pain. “Good to see your reflexes are still good.”

“What on earth are you doing here?”

Lightheart had been part of the hero’s security detail, back when they’d first escaped from the villain. She’d been one of the ones to last the longest, before the onslaught overtook her.

Now, she shot the hero a grin. “I’m here to save you, obviously.”

The hero’s stomach bottomed out.

They’d never exactly told their former colleagues about their adjustment of allegiances. How could they? Instead, they’d figured it’d be best to just disappear, and let everyone else draw their own conclusions.

They should’ve guessed that “the hero was kidnapped by the villain” would be the first conclusion in everyone’s mind.

“Listen, now isn’t the best time . . .” they started.

“I know [Villain] scares you, but you won’t need to ever worry about them again after today.”

“Wait.” Dread gripped the hero. “What are you going to do?”

She took their hand and squeezed it. “We failed you once, and I’m so sorry for that. But we are never, ever going to fail you again.”

What hurt most was the utter sincerity in her voice.

“I’m really sorry about this,” the hero said.

They tried to leave her unconscious body in a comfortable position, before sprinting out the door.

---

The hero sped down the hall, their heart racing, their breath painful in their throat.

They turned a corner and saw the villain.

The villain flashed a smile. “[Hero]! I was starting to think – ”

The hero waved their hand, and the superhero just behind the villain fell to the ground.

The stranger let out a cry of pure agony.

The villain turned to see what had happened. Their eyes widened. They opened their mouth to say something.

“No time!” The hero grabbed the villain’s hand and put the superhero to sleep.

---

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

The hero fiddled with the security panel, adjusting the settings.

“You haven’t said anything since we escaped.”

The controls weren’t working. The hero began pushing more and more buttons. The screen buffered. The hideout was going to be vulnerable.

“[Hero], how about you take a break from that and – ” The villain put a hand on the hero’s shoulder.

The hero struck it away.

They blinked at each other for a moment, as the hero struggled to find words.

“You must be happy,” they said eventually. “You got what you wanted.”

The villain shook their head. “No. I didn’t.”

The hero shoved away. “I turned. I fucking turned. Just like you said I would.”

“[Hero], you are as far from a supervillain as they come.”

“I hurt that person!” The hero rounded on them. “I could have just put them to sleep. I should have just put them to sleep!”

Why hadn’t they?

The hero’s mind offered no answers. It only produced a sharp spike of fear, just like how they’d felt seeing the villain in danger.

They felt the prick of tears in their eyes.

The hero wrapped an arm around themself, and said, in voice almost too soft to be heard, “I hope I didn’t kill them.”

The villain grasped the hero’s shoulder. “You didn’t.”

“You don’t know that. They – ”

“I saw them move, [Hero]. And I saw their teammates rushing to them. They’re going to be fine. I promise.”

The hero couldn’t help it. They started crying.

The villain pulled them into a gentle hug, and rubbed their back. “Truth be told, I gave up the notion of your villainy a long time ago. It was never in the cards for someone like you.”

The hero let out a sob.

“[Hero], you’re the bravest, gentlest, kindest person I’ve ever known. I’m so incredibly lucky to have you.”

After that day, the villain never asked the hero to switch sides again.

#hero x villain #villain #villain x hero #hero #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #writeblr #writing snippet #angst #captivity #not a promt

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dahoizlovee · 6 months ago

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The Lost Tribes of Pandora | CH.3

Chapter 3 - The beginning of the end

THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORY! This fan-fiction has nothing to do with any cannon characters, it just takes place in the world of pandora.

Walking for what seemed like hours A’kyo finally reach home point. But it was uneasy, a once booming city was now quiet. As much as she wanted to question why her beloved loud environment was silenced, her exhaustion overtook her. And with Khini in hand they hit the floor, now both unmoving.

All you could hear was A’kyo’s name ringing through the infirmary. Slowly rising out of her sleep as Eula held her tightly. Laying on a mat with bandages all over her she scanned the room, the only people in there were her, Eula, and Khini who was still in deep sleep.

“Oh my sweet sweet girl, thank great mother you are ok” Pulling back to examine her sister's face.

“They said you had a few misplaced ribs and your face will scar but overall you’ll be fine” She stroked her face.

“Will he be ok?” She gestures to Khini and then stretches her form out.

“He suffered a bad hit to the head-”

“Wait! What about A’fae! Chima! Chima is still in the forest!”

A’kyo tried to get up but Eula held her down.

“You don’t need to worry about that…I have it all under control”

“No you don’t! You weren't there sister- he- He took A’fae! We must tell Olo'eyktan! Yahya is coming!”

A’kyo was frantic to get her words out as she tried to fight her way off her sister. Knowing danger was a foot but Eula would not hear her out.

“I know! I know” Trying to calm her down.

“You know?” A’kyo stopped fighting but gave her sister a harsh look. Waiting for her explanation.

“We were ambushed soon after you four left to go gathering. They took the princess-”

“Who cares about Fuhara! They have A’fae! We need to leave!”

“She is our princess! Our people!”

“Fine we’ll get her back too-”

“No, I will leave! I am General, it's my job to take care of it." She put her hand on her shoulder lovingly.

“Me and my army will leave when the sun peaks. But for now you are relieved of your duties, I need you to rest” Eula leaves the room with the final word.

Both of their parents weren't around. Leaving them to only be able to rely on each other. Their mother was second medic in charge behind their peoples Tashik, too busy with patching up returning warriors to actually raise her children. Mentally she had checked out years ago. And their father, who was a former General, had passed away during the war. The fighting had broken many Wen’yabawba’s homes and they were not the exception. As hurt as Eula was about her cousin being kidnapped she could not risk putting A’kyo in the middle of it, she already hated herself for not being there to save her from Yahya. She knew losing her only lifeline would destroy her.

A’kyo wasted no time to wake up Khini, already cooking up a plan in her head of how she would get A’fae back. Khini woke up with a throbbing headache and a cracked tailbone, but A’kyo didn't give him time to react as she hurriedly told him of all that had happened in his absence.

“What will be done of this?”

“Eula will be handling this but you and I need to leave before she does”

“What! She's a tsamsiyu for a reason she can handle this. We’ll just be in the way- I mean what can we do.”

“You didn't see it Khini…the war has now made its way inside of the caves. We can't ignore this! I refuse to give my sister’s life to this battle. I wouldn't ask you to do this if i didn't need you”

He looks away from her, and stares down at his wounds. Looking as if he's trying to dissociate, contemplating what he’ll say next. Tonight was their first time ever being outside and it was a shitshow, going out again could be fatal but as he looked into A’kyo’s eyes he knew his answer.

“No A’kyo, you want to get yourself killed be my guest but I want nothing to do with this. I paid tonight in my blood”.

“Coward, more blood will spill if we don't do something” She slaps him and his head snaps to the side.

“You're so willing to throw our life away- Do you have a plan?!” He shouts in her face.

“Yes I do, but it won’t work without you…are you in?”

He pushed the words yes out of the teeth that were tightly sewn together.

Somewhere on the outside of the caves very far away was a large group of shadow warriors walking through a dense forest, dragging around two special prisoners. They had been traveling about two hours since the initial kidnapping. Both A’fae and Fuhara had given up on struggling. A’fae gave up because he saw what happened to his cousin and Chima and feared the worst was waiting for him. But Fuhara knew no real harm could come to the Wen’yabawba’s princess, so she decided to be relaxed about the situation knowing help would soon come.

Yahya and his soldiers stopped at an overpass, sitting down and stretching their legs out.

“My strong fighters, I want to personally thank you all for helping throw the first stone to ending this war!” Yahya had said in excitement.

His people cheered and jumped at the thought of being a part of ending such a long fight. As he went on in his speech A’fae and Fuhara looked at each other in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” Fuhara had shouted, cutting him off.

Walking through the now parted crowd to her, he bent down to address her.

“How rude don't they teach you monkeys manners? It's fine though because soon the terror of the Wen’yabawba’s will be no more”

“Terror? You are the monsters here, your merciless savages who only want to take! You take lives! Homes! People!” she gestures to herself. A’fae looked around to see she indeed had misspoke. The surrounding shadow people had moved in closer around Yahya, daring the princess to say more.

“Fuhara stop-” He whispered.

“No! You all are cowards! And slow in the head if you think taking me and the cousin of our battle leader will stop a war you started!”

Yahya didn't say anything during her outburst, he just simply played with her hair. Twirling her slightly loose curls between his fingers while staring her in the eyes. He could tell she was trying not to leap up and strike him.

“You cave people really are funky looking. Crazy to imagine we share ancestors…huh. Too bad history wont remember what wen’yabawba’s look like”.

His words ran into Fuhara’s ears and sat at the back of her head, now haunting her.

“Are you doing this because you lost the battle over Canco’mot river- is your ego really that big!”

“You think this is all over a river? We lost so we could track down which cave your people dwell in. We won”.

He got up and instructed them it was time to go, climbing under the underpass was a flock of what could only be described as flying emus. One by one the shadow people got on them and took off into the night. A’fae and Fuhara were split up, Yahya telling one of his most trusted warriors to take A’fae while he took Fuhara. She tried to fight Yahya’s rough hands off her, but she was unsuccessful as he whisked her up and planted her on the body of the flying emu.

“Hang on tight it’ll be a long day ride to the heart of the Fayunban clan”.

Feeling her heart sink to her stomach as the bird lifted them into the sky and took off.

Back inside of the infirmary A’kyo packed a small bag for the journey her and Khini were about to go on. In the bag were meds, bandages, her fathers dagger, and Boom Blueberries. Boom Blueberries were special berries that only grew in the northeast side of caves, typically surrounded by decomposing animals. What made the sour fruit special was if they punctured then thrown it would explode on the target. She threw a handful of them in there before tying the bag to her back.

Her body tensed up making her ears stand straight when the flap to the tent was opened, but it was just Khini telling her he was ready to go. He hands her an axe and a thin cloak, she ties the axe to back and throws on the cloak.

Due to evolution, cave navi’s eyes were extremely sensitive to the sun, knowing that Khini thought their day exposure would be easier if there was a thin barrier between their eyes and the sun. With his own weapon in hand they peeked outside to see no one around, they sneaked out and jogged to a separate part of the cave.

In this separate part of the cave was a large herd of cave zakru, elephant-like beings. A’kyo and Khini quietly sprinted to one with painted red tiger stripes.

“Mosca my love”.

A’kyo said with a smile as she petted her lifelong companion’s back connected her queue to hers. They climbed onto Mosca, leading her outside.

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #original story #romance #action #fantasy #navi

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traumadumpwriter · 1 year ago

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Heavy trigger warning! This story includes heavy themes of ab*se, r*pe, self h*rm, mental illness and violence.

Check out every part by going on the tag Freedom on my page cx

Freedom: A John Shelby mini fic

Chapter Two: 3303 words

A few days later and Alice was discharged; most of her injuries being minor and easily healed by a little care and nutrition. Once Alice was finally left alone, she crumbled onto the wooden floor and cried harder than she ever had before. Ada hadn't wanted to leave her alone, extremely worried for her welfare. She'd overheard the nurses discussing the injuries, how many there were and what seemingly caused them. Alice had yet to offer any kind of explanation, meaning her and Polly could only make assumptions.

Polly had moved around the furniture in what was apparently a filing office, making a temporary sleeping space; a sofa, some blankets and a cabinet for a nightstand. Despite the room being small and bland, Alice was grateful to have it, shuddering at the thought of being inside that cramped caravan again. She was grateful to be alive too and that Polly had saved some of her Mother's mementos for her, treating the girl with nothing but kindness from the moment they reunited.

However, she also remembered Polly being there when the men took her away and knew that she'd given her mother the idea. That was something that she could not forgive the woman for.

An intense mix of emotions overtook her mind and body; fear, rage, freedom, grief, relief, restlessness, sickness, despair. She darted over to the cabinet and rummaged through the drawers for something sharp, desperate for any feeling of control. Quickly, she found a letter opener and immediately brought it to her thigh, slashing at the already scarred skin.

Even after all the years of physical pain at the hands of others - something she obviously didn't enjoy - pain from her own hands still gave her a sense of comfort.

She hadn't been able to truly hurt herself in a long time, that was reserved only for her husband and whoever he saw fit. He even took extra measures to make sure she couldn't purposely harm herself, practically baby proofing the caravan. It took away the last sense of control she had.

Now though, looking down at her bloody thighs, she felt a huge head rush, her body filling with relief and relaxing slightly. She didn't realise how much she was shaking until she looked down at her hands, dropping the letter opener as she focused on the blood.

A couple moments passed before she grabbed her already stained dress and started to wipe up the blood. Ada had left a pile of her clothes in the corner, another thing Alice was immensely grateful for. As she got changed, she thought about how much she'd actually missed Ada.. and how lucky she was that her defiant brothers happened to be the ones in the automobile that night.

It took her a while to get to sleep, her body nauseous and her brain overloaded, but when she did finally get to sleep she found herself having a dream - something that hadn't happened in a long time - and the starring role was taken by none other than John Shelby.

Meanwhile, he too had been dealing with unwanted emotions, finding his mind drifting on an hourly basis. As soon as he got the chance, he interrogated Ada for the details from the hospital, his gut clenching as each injury sounded worse than the last.

But still, he struggled to picture the Alice that he knew growing up taking a beating from anyone - let alone to that degree.

"And you're sure that a man done all this stuff to her?" He asked, struggling to hide his anger.

"I mean she didn't say. I don't know for sure but it certainly looks like it." Ada answered, her tone also bitter. She saw the rage bubbling behind his eyes and quickly added "But don't do anything brash, please. She really doesn't need that right now."

John knew his sister was right, shooting her a small nod before heading to his room. As he passed the door of the filing office, he fought the urge to push the door open and ask the girl inside a million questions. Instead he carried on going down the hall and keeping the questions inside his head.

——————

The next morning, John was surprised to see Alice and Ada sat up at the kitchen table eating breakfast and happily chatting. The smile on her face was authentic, her eyes and cheeks glowing despite the bruises.

"You're looking better." He awkwardly chuckled in her direction, wandering through the kitchen.

Instantly upon hearing his voice, Alice thought about the dream she'd had and suddenly felt much more interest in John than she ever had before. When they were kids, she never saw him as anything other than a friend, but now seeing him as the handsome man he'd become, something changed.

"Thanks." She awkwardly chuckled back, locking eyes for just a moment before returning to her food. Her stomach was growling quite ferociously, not having had free reign over how much she ate for a long time. Every piece of bacon felt like heaven.

"Any reason why you're awake so early?" Ada looked up from her newspaper and sent John a playful glare.

He shot her a quick glare back before coughing and sitting down opposite the girls. Alice's eyes flicked back to him, partially cautious but more curious than anything.

"Fueling myself before a hard days work. Something you women wouldn't know about." He smirked, earning a scoff from his sister whilst Alice stayed silent.

"Alice Shepherd quiet before a sexist remark? She really has changed." He thought to himself, piling food onto his plate.

In truth, he didn't know why he was down there so early. The night had been relatively sleepless, his mind ravaged by war memories and now questions about Alice, so when he heard their voices downstairs it just felt right to join them.

And now, he could feel Alice's eyes on him and for the first time since their reunion he felt intimidated by her. Somehow her silence felt more judgmental than any comment or insult she'd ever made, her powerful aura clearly remaining intact. He couldn't let himself go weak and lose her again, he had to at least try this time.

So despite the nerves building up in his gut, he gazed back at the brunette with a smile, ready to ask her if she was free that evening. I But just as he opened his mouth, Tommy strolled into the room and he felt all the words leave him.

—————

They didn't speak much again for the next couple of days, John being very busy and Alice generally being with Ada or cooped up in recovery by herself when her friend was busy.

She'd struggled slightly to adjust to everything; her freedom, the slight opium withdrawal, the way things were now so different from the war, her mother and brothers passing, the trauma from her abuse. Every night, she'd cut her thighs, cry her heart out and then sleep like a log, completely exhausted despite not really doing much with her day.

The sleep felt really good too, not having to be alert and ready to wake up at any moment was something she'd dearly missed.

So as she sat down in front of the filing cabinet and reached in to find the letter opener that night, she was shocked to see that it wasn't there.

Suddenly, she felt frantic, searching around the room for it or anything else that could suffice but nothing appeared.

"Someone must have taken it." She thought to herself, quickly becoming more agitated by the second. She'd finally gotten back her favourite form of control and she needed it instantaneously.

The house had been empty for the last couple hours besides John and a light bulb instantly went off in her head.

"He must've used it and forgot to put it back. I'll just go get it from him now, it's not that late." She thought manically.

Wide eyed, she paced down the hallway and knocked on his door, hearing a cough and a sigh from inside before John's voice murmured "Come in." Once she did, their eyes immediately locked and it made her stomach flip, suddenly feeling the ridiculousness of her question.

"You alright?" He asked, staring at her intensely.

"Y-yeah... I was just gonna ask do you have a letter opener?" She stammered awkwardly, her eyes darting between his and the floor.

A small tut came from his lips and he looked to the ground for a second before pulling something out of his pocket. When he opened his palm, Alice saw the letter opener from the filing cabinet and instantly reached out to grab it, but he quickly closed his fist and scoffed.

"Why do you want it, Alice?" He pursed his lips as he spoke bluntly "And don't lie to me, I'm not gonna fall for it, I ain't a kid no more."

It's not like her self harm was ever much of a secret, but now that they were adults and their bond had faded, she felt ashamed and embarrassed.

"Why do you care, John?"

He on the other hand, felt guilty and upset and even slightly angry, standing up from his position on the bed and running his fingers through his hair.

"Why wouldn't I?" He turned to her with a sigh, stepping closer. "I've known you my whole life... and I've never understood you."

"No one understands and I don't expect them to ." Alice replied bluntly, becoming defensive as his words made her feel vulnerable. "Can I just have it please?"

John scoffed, feeling dumbfounded from just being in her presence, which made him annoyed.

"Are you fucking serious? Why are you cutting yourself up? It doesn't make any sense. You reappear out of nowhere with the shit kicked out of you and then you choose to add extra pain to yourself? Why would you do that?" His voice stayed low as he was relatively calm, but his frustration was clear through his tone.

Alice was shocked by how much the man actually seemed to care, not really knowing how to respond to him. Her mind flipped between listening to his words to how good he looked speaking them, causing a small smile to creep onto her lips.

"Now why are you smiling? Are you even more fucking nuts now? I'm being serious Alice." John's face was only straight for a minute before a smile started to form on his too, easily weakened by Alice's big, glossy eyes and delicate lips.

"I just think you're a good man, maybe that does make me nuts." She said quietly, creating a moment of silence afterwards as John soaked in the compliment.

"Anyway, I should probably leave you to it." She added, her mind darting to the knives in the kitchen.

Maybe it was the whiskey; John quickly put his hand on her shoulder before she could turn around and leave.

"Stay." He felt embarrassed but nonetheless made his request. "Let's catch up properly."

In his eyes, Alice saw a flicker of vulnerability that made her even more intrigued by the handsome man. The Shelby brothers never showed weakness. She'd realised just how powerful they'd become when walking around with Ada and imagined that it was rare for John to request the company of anyone, let alone so meekly.

"Okay." She smiled, stepping slowly towards him. Her mind wasn't even focused on the sharp objects anymore, instead focusing on the man in front of her and how he made her stomach feel twisted up in the good way she hadn't experienced in years. "So tell me, what have you been up to?"

It was clear that he was relieved by her answer, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to him with a relaxed grin. He reached over to his side, grabbing a box of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey as Alice sat beside him, leaning against the wall and crossing her legs.

"Where do I even start?" He huffed, taking a swig from the bottle before handing it to Alice. "Well Tommy runs the family now as I'm sure you've heard. I'm in the shop most days but every now and then he sends me or Arthur on these missions."

"Were you on a mission the night I stopped you?"Alice teased before taking a swig from the whiskey.

"Coming back from one actually. And I wasn't even meant to be on it, some prick fucked up last minute. Funny how life works out sometimes."

"What do you do on these missions Tommy gives you?"

"That is peaky blinder business and peaky blinder business only darling. Next question." He chuckled slightly, earning a giggle from her.

"Okay let me think..." She grinned. "Did anything interesting happen before you got into the business? Like what was going on in Small Heath just after I left? Did anyone ever end up scrapping Big Lee? That's the last bit of drama I remember!"

John scoffed and chuckled in amusement before thinking of his answer.

"Well it was just after you left that the war began weren't it, so I couldn't tell you what was happening in Small Heath then... lots of babies been born and lots of people have died. Big Lee's fucking dead, done in the Somme. I was a machine gunner in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, a bloody good one too, although I'm not sure what that says about me... Didn't get me anywhere anyway, still came home to this shit hole with nothing to show for all those years away."

As Alice watched him speak about the war, she could see him getting more withdrawn; his eyes looking distant and his body tensing up. She'd taken a few swigs from the bottle before she stopped his spiralling.

"I suppose I feel a similar kind of way." She interrupted, prompting him to shoot her a confused look.

"What? About killing hundreds of men?"

"No. Not about that. About spending years away, just to come back to this shit hole with nothing to show for it... It just feels like painfully wasted time."

A moment of silence passed between them, John lighting a cigarette and Alice taking another swig, savouring the relaxed feeling it gave her.

"Well, what did you spend all those years away doing? Maybe it wasn't a waste of time." He knew he was playing dumb slightly here, thinking of the injuries she'd arrived to them with and her general change of attitude. To him it was clear that she'd been through some kind of abuse, but he wanted to hear her admit it. Then maybe he could do something about it.

The brown haired girl sighed, looking down at her legs as she thought about the marks hidden by her clothing. The ones left by Jones made her feel unwell and tainted, but the ones left by herself made her feel a sick sense of comfort. She was sure that to the outside world they all looked the same.

Now her mind was focused on Jones though, what he did to her and how unwell it made her. Even now that she'd escaped him, she could feel his poison in her bloodstream, seemingly strengthened by her refusing to ever talk about him.

"Maybe talking will help." The girl thought.

A heavy sigh left her lips before she spoke.

"Well I didn't spend much time with my father, which I suppose was the original plan. He sold me to be married only a few weeks into my stay with him. Obviously his plan had been different all along and my mother stupidly fell for it. I sometimes wonder how much he was paid for me. It probably wasn't even that much; that stupid old bastard."

John took swigs of whiskey between the puffs on his cigarette but remained listening intently. His face straight and emotionless despite the fact that he was clinging onto every word, deeply curious for her truth. Alice's face also remained straight, dissociating while she recalled the traumatic events.

"And my husband.. he's the devil. Never met a man like him, if you can even call him that. There was never a break from it. I'd rather die than ever be in his hands again... he did such evil things to me, things I'm scared to say out loud." Her voice started to shake slightly and she pulled the bottle from John's hand, taking a big swig.

"Why are you scared to say it? No one can hurt you now, you're protected by us."

His words brought a small smile to her lips and she turned to him to make eye contact, instantly feeling her stomach flip as she did.

"Because... it would make you view me differently." She stammered, struggling to keep her cool composure. There was a lot more to it than that, a lot more deep, ugly feelings, but those words were all she could bare to admit.

"What? You think I'd judge you because your husband beat you up? I wouldn't judge no woman for that, that's on that bastard, not you!" He answered back with a level of enthusiasm that surprised her.

It became clear he really did care, but even that didn't give her the strength to say what had truly happened, in all it's gruesome detail.

"He didn't just beat me up. It was so much more than that." She stammered, shrinking under John's gaze. "It.. it was a lot more than that."

He could sense that she was beginning to shut down again, her body becoming rigid and her eyes holding that distant look. Clearly, talking about what had happened was too much for her and so in a split second decision, John leaned across the bed and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, her body instantly loosening as she sunk into it.

"It's okay. You don't have to talk about it." He whispered, also finding comfort in her hugging him back. He could see his struggles with trauma mirrored through her, as could she with him and for a moment, they both felt their brains stop shouting as they held each other.

—————

For the next couple hours, they spoke and drank; laughing at each other's jokes and reminiscing on their childhoods. After the hug, they made no more physical contact - much to the hidden dismay of both of them - instead staying a foot apart on the bed, passing the bottle or a lighter across it every few minutes.

John found himself completely captivated by the woman. By her wit and intelligence, the humour that would effortlessly fall from her mouth and how beautiful she looked as it fell. Despite the amount of time she spent suffering, her face had not aged as some soldiers did at war. Instead, she'd grown even more gorgeous, "perhaps because she's more mysterious than ever before" thought John, but he couldn't place it exactly.

Alice's mind also ran wild with thoughts of the man beside her. His tough exterior was easily crumbled, instead revealing that inside he was kind, emotionally intelligent and funny. Even with a considerable amount of liquor in his system, he remained charming and cool, two words she never thought she'd use to describe John Shelby.

"He was such a weird kid, always trailing behind me or his brothers. I never expected him to turn out like this." She thought to herself, becoming more impressed by his presence by the minute.

She could sense a deep sadness in him, maybe one that matched her own, and much like his curiosity for her, she decided that she wanted to sniff out that sadness and maybe help fix it. It was the least she could do after he kind of saved her.

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quirky-adorkable-nishy · 1 year ago

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RobxStar Week 2023: Missing

*Long time observer of robxstar week, first time making actual content. I hope it's good (this is kinda meant to go with a couple of the other 2023 prompts so it does have some continuation later on). Tagging @robxstar just in case Tumblr casts this to the void.

Missing

The first thing Robin was aware of was a sickly sweet scent lingering in the air. Something about it nudged a memory, distant in the haze of his barely conscious mind.

"Yo Robin, get up man!" Cyborg's voice cut through the fog, urgent and panicked. Robin shot upright, immediately regretting it. His head pounded, and his stomach lurched. Spots swam at the edge of his vision. Whatever happened, it hit him harder than a blow from Conderblock. He shook his head to clear his blurry vision.

When he opened his eyes, he inhaled sharply. The coms room of the tower looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. The window overlooking the ocean had been completely smashed in. The couch was completely flipped over, and a handful of scorch marks dotted the floor in a random array. To the right of him, Raven and Beast Boy also seemed to be coming too, eyes widening as their awareness returned to them, and they took in what they were seeing. As Robin moved to get up shards of glass crunched under his boots.

"Did anyone get the number of whatever hit us," Beast Boy groaned. Robin ignored his quip as he further examined the room. Then, all at once, a ball of ice dropped to the pit of his stomach as he realized someone was missing.

"Where's Starfire?" he asked, eyes darting frantically around the room. They were all in the coms room together just a few minutes ago. She should be here.

"That's why I woke you up. As soon as I came to, I looked all over the place. She's not in the tower. And I found this on the floor," Cyborg said, opening his palm to reveal Starfire's communicator, completely smashed.

The cold dread spread through his veins, threatening to freeze him to the spot. He had to keep calm. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he recalled was something crashing through the window. Whatever it was, it filled the room with that sickening scent. Then ea heavy feeling overtook him and he fell. The last thing he remembered was a bright flash of green. Starfire's starbolts. Then,after that, nothing.

Whatever had attacked them, must be behind this.

"Raven, see if you can sense where she is. Cyborg, you and I are going to check the security tapes," Robin barked more harshly than he had intended. If the team took offense however, they offered no complaint.

As Robin sat at the computer, Cyborg placed a hand on his shoulder

"Hey, we're gonna find her ok," he reassured the leader. Robin clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He had to keep a tight lid on all the emotions that were swirling chaotically in his mind if he was going to find Star.

If he gave into the raw panic screaming her name over and over again in his mind,he would miss something important. A clue that could give him the faintest hope he could find her. His anger he would save for whoever dared to take her away.

But the guilt was the worst feeling of all. It gnawed at him, whispering in the back of his mind that this was his fault. He should have protected her. He was supposed to keep her safe. Once he had said that no one was going to take her away. Not from the team. Not from him.

He failed.

"I can't sense her. wherever she is, it's too far away," Raven called out. Robin brought his fist down hard on the desk, allowing the anger bubbling at the surface to seep out. Cyborg flinched next to him,and he heard BB yelp in the background. Inhaling sharply,he shifted through the most recent footage.

Whatever his them didn't show up on the camera until what looked like gas bombs flung through the window. Four of them went down quickly, but judging from the footage, Starfire held out a bit longer. A few of her starbolts flung in random directions, trying to find an enemy through the hazey gas before she too went down with a thud.

The gas cleared and the window shattered with a thunderous crack. As if blipping into existence, a spaceship appeared outside the tower. Two figures entered the Tower. One was quitelarge and muscular. He was followed by a more reptilian being with a bulbous head. The large one threw the couch Starfire had fallen behind, throwing her over his shoulder. In another blip, they and the ship were gone.

From the time stamp on the video, all of the footage took place an hour ago.

With a guttural growl, Robin flung the chair behind him.

"They could be anywhere! She could be halfway across the universe by now!" Robin yelled, feeling his own voice reverberate across the room. His words hung heavy in the air. No one seemed to know what they were supposed to say.

They couldn't even track her. His legs threatened to buckle as the panic roared louder and louder in his mind. He wanted to run right to Starfire and save her, and he didn't even know how to narrow down a location. Every second that ticked by, she could be hurt. Hurt or.....

A shrill beeping cut through the silence. Robin whipped his head sharply in the direction of the screen. His first thought was that it was a ransom message. He was surprised to see that it was Galfore hailing them using the emergency signal.

Cyborg automatically accepted the call before Robin could bring himself to move.

"Titans! I must speak with Starfire immediately," the Grand Ruler's eyes darted around looking for Starfire. Robin felt bile claw its way up his throat.

"Galfore...I'm sorry. Starfire was taken," Robin said. He did his best to explain what had happened, finding it increasingly harder to look the Tamaranian in the eye as he recounted the details. When he had finished, Galfore's expression darkened

"What did these treacherous fiends look like?" Galfore growled. Robin pulled up a still image of the aliens for Galfore to see. The warrior let lose a stream of what Robin could only guess were Tamaranian curses.

"The Psions and the Citadel appear to be the culprits" Galfore said after regaining some composure. Robin felt his chest clench. He knew that once Starfire had been promised to the Citadel as a slave. He had promised the moment he met her that she would never have to face that fate.

But still, the Titans exchanged hopeful glances. By some miracle, they had a lead.

"Can you give us any insight into where we could find them? Anywhere at all?" Robin begged. It didn't matter where or how unlikely the chance she would be there was. He would scour the whole universe until he found Starfire.

Galfore's eyebrows pinched close together, pondering something.

"It is fitting that you say that young detective. The reason I have called is because Citadel and Psion ships are approaching Tamaran."

"But why would they threaten her home if they already have Starfire?" Raven pondered.

"It doesn't matter. It's the only lead we have. Titans go!" Robin ordered.

As the T-Ship left orbit, Robin knew there was a slight chance that Starfire wasn't even with those ships. But it didn't matter. He would take on a whole army and force them to take him to her if he had to.

No matter what he had to do, Robin was going to get Starfire back.

#robxstar #robxstarweek #fanfic #teen titans #robin #starfire

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alearicci · 1 year ago

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second chapter. max verstappen x oc

"I'm tired. I'm fucking tired, Ashlyn," Max said, sitting down on the bed next to the his girlfriend. There was a note of impotence in his voice. Did he think a few years ago that it would be so difficult for him to win one race after another? That it would be so hard. And it's not even about the strength of rivals or a bad car. It's all about people. No matter how hard he tried to show that they had no effect on him, his heart ached unpleasantly from everything that awaited him every day. Fame sometimes has a bad effect on the humanity inside you. You try to be strong, show the best results, fight honestly for the title... and you find yourself face to face with people . There are those to whom Max is insanely grateful - his fans always support him, arrange various events, draw posters of support. Recently he heard a song on the street, a very funny song. There was something like that tu-tu-tu-tu Max Verstappen. He still sometimes hums this melody to himself, as if supporting himself. But there are others. Aren't they called haters? Such people whistle after you, write unpleasant comments. "What a blessing that Max didn't get on the podium. We need to celebrate this, dudes", "Poor Max. It serves you right", "I wish you were eliminated in the first round." At first it seriously upset him, but now he just laughs and thinks how pathetic they are. Stupid idiots who were offended that he overtook their favorite team by car, for which they had been rooting almost since childhood. Such people don't even stand next to him. Someone even called him a villain. Max once laughed and said, "Well, then I'm the most beautiful villain in the world." He didn't consider himself evil. Only sometimes he got angry if his rivals couldn't see beyond their own noses or when he made a stupid mistake. Monster Max, oh my God, save yourself. If you don't know personally, then don't judge publicly. Since childhood, he dreamed of becoming a Formula 1 racer. He wanted to win, to drive at great speed, to overtake rivals. He did everything possible and impossible to get behind the wheel of a racing car. And his dream came true. Thanks to perseverance and the desire to act. He was considered a young talent, a Red Bull star. Great hopes were pinned on him. And he justified them. Became the best. He showed everyone his trademark smile from time to time. He was turning into a robot. Only his family and girlfriend brought him back to life. Max met Ashlyn Skyler at a party he attended at a friend's request. He immediately singled her out from the rest. Her smile stunned him. A few days later, he decided to write to her on Instagram and arranged a meeting. And it so happened that she was with him almost from the very beginning of his career in Formula 1. She was with him for better and for worse. She was always there, gave love and tenderness, was present at every race and watched the car with the number 33, and later 1, with a rapid heartbeat. She watched her beloved. She rejoiced at every victory and podium, she cried because of every failure and every defeat. And now, having heard a rare confession from the mouth of a racer, she is trying to cope with herself and not cry. She loved this man and felt very sorry for him. And he doesn't like self-pity. The man looks at her for a few more seconds, and then quickly takes off his T-shirt and settles on his beloved's chest. He hugs her tightly with his big arms and nuzzles her neck, inhaling her native scent. When Max lies down on her, Skyler does a little head massage, trying to relieve tension. She kisses him on the forehead and continues stroking his hair.

"It's all right, baby. We'll manage. There are two free days ahead, and then you will have to return to training. I'm here, remember that.

- I love you very much.

- I love you even more.

- That's not true. I love you more. And don't argue with me.

- I'm terribly scared. What are you going to do to me, Your Majesty?

- Mmm.

Max smiles slyly and pulls away a little. He puts one hand on Ash's soft cheek and pulls her closer. He touches his lips to hers, kissing her gently. How many kisses there have been over the years of their relationship, but there has never been such a kiss yet. In that kiss there was all the pain, all the love and all the desire to be with each other. They loved each other and continued to be close, no matter what. They enjoyed every day spent with each other. They were happy to be together. And no one could make them think differently. Max loved Ashlyn, Ashlyn loved Max. They went through all the difficulties together. Finally breaking away from such sweet lips, Verstappen lies down again in the place where he was quite recently. He is silent and enjoys the warmth coming from the girl. The warmth of the house. Ashlyn was the whole world to him, and he wanted to keep that world. Therefore, at first Max did not want to advertise their relationship, he met Ashlyn secretly. He was afraid that the bad words would reach her. But about two years ago, they appeared together at a party on the occasion of Max's victory at the annual competition. Since then, they have not hidden that they are dating, and Ashlin is part of that limited circle of people who are allowed to see the rider himself before the race.

- Do you remember that we have to go for an interview tomorrow?

- Max... "We"?

- Damn, didn't I tell you? Sorry, baby. We were invited to some show where we will talk about you and me, within reasonable limits, of course. If you don't mind, I'll cancel it.

- Okay, Max, I agree. Only then you will need to choose some suitable outfit for you.

- The clothes that suit me are a red bull jumpsuit. Will you wear this?

- No, I'll go in my house clothes. I just have a T-shirt with your image on it.

- Oh, no, girl. Let's put on our robes. The presenters won't mind much, will they?

- I think, nevertheless, they will object.

- OK. Then you'll have to dress up in a suit.

- Classic suits suit you like hell.

- And the dresses suit you very well.

- Really?

- Yes. Especially the one I took off you last night.

- Shh, Max.

- Not shhh. You'll definitely be better off without him ;)

#f1 #f1 2023 #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #oneshot #my fic #super max #red bull racing #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x oc #youremaxverstappengf

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jadeisbetterrrr · 2 years ago

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amity save hexsquad

(amity stayed in the demon realm and the hexsquad is getting attacked by a spy in the forest)

its a breezy afternoon in the boiling isles,. until a blue star spy starts chasing after the hexsquad (except amity)

"what is this thing?!" hunter yelled. "what makes you think i know!" gus responded, luz is using glyphs to defend everyone. luz ran out of glyphs until an abomination wall covered everyone.

someone ran in front of them, they had a hood, everyone looked confused, they couldn't see their face and they js all stood there in awe. luz felt like she knew this person, these fighting movements felt similar, too similar. everyone's minds went blank as they saw this random person with a black oversized hoodie on. after the collectors spy was taken down, the mysterious figure took down their hoodie.

as they pulled it down, light purple hair with roots growing out revealed. it was a girl. she hadn't realized the people behind her as she realized they might've been tourists. she was still catching her breath and moved her hair out her face, revealing a scar, one on each ear. she fixed her hair and put her hands in her pockets as she finally turned around. more shock and relief washed over the teen's faces as they realized it was the one and only, amity fucking blight. as she turned around she realized the 5 people behind her. shock overtook her face.

"amity?" luz whispered. camilla then realized who this girl really was to everyone, her daughter mentioned a girlfriend that stayed back in the demon realm. "luz?" luzs face was overcome with a smile as they started running towards eachother as amity jumped in her arms and was being twirled around, like they used to. "wha- w-why- how!?" amity said, her brain lagging as she couldn't believe these people were here. once luz got a closer look she realized her girlfriend who once had a babyface and a light blush on her cheeks, now had eyebags and a scar trailing down above the middle of her jawline, near her lips.

"its a long story, oh my gosh i thought something horrible happened to you." luz said, bringing amity into another embrace. "luz, you know nobody could ever lay a finger on me, im too fast." she responded with, luz chuckled as she connected her lips to amitys, grabbing her cheeks as she pulled their faces together. "js- js look away for a bit" willow whispered. everyone's gaze went to the floor or the sky. as they pulled away, both their faces stained red, they smiled as they looked in eachothers eyes. and then luzs face went to her girlfriends scars. she frowned a bit as amity noticed and said "i'm okay sweet potato" "a-are you sure? doesnt it hurt?" luz replied, stroking it with her thumb. "no luz, i promise." amity assured.

"ahem" hunter "coughed". amity moved her face, annoyed as her eyes saw hunter, they widened at all the scars on him. she brushed it off as hunter started saying. "if you two lovebirds are done flirting now, we would like to get going" amity then stuck her tongue out at him as she let go of luz and went to say hello to her best friend willow. and luzs mom. as they got all of that sorted out, amity explained the new hexside thing and she was the ruler, appointed by the students as she was out here for a simple mission. "is that where you got your scars from?" willow asked. "some, but not all" as they strolled through the forest and their way back to hexside luzs hand found its way to amitys, she forgot how cold they always were, it gave her a chill but she liked the feeling of her snug hands coming in contact with amitys ice-cold ones. then there they were, all back together, luz with her alluring girlfriend and her amazing mother and friends. a peaceful moment she wouldn't forget.

[END]

authors note: okay oksy i'm on a lumity brain rot because i js love how healthy the ship is. anyways my tags aren't working so like i haven't been getting likes on m posts 😭 but idrc? because i use this for ideas i js cant get out of my brain, anyways gn/gm guys ily 🫶🏽

i really need to grammar check.

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kingxfmischief · 2 years ago

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@brynhildr-valkyrie-voldsom

Something was wrong.

It was a sudden feeling, a strange one that suddenly overtook the Trickster. Fear gripped him, and he immediately felt the need to check on his daughter. He rose quickly to his feet, rushing to her bedroom only to feel relief fill him to see her safe and sound, playing with some of her toys.

Then what was it? It was the same feeling that had filled him at Frigga’s passing, but then he knew what had happened, this time...nothing. It unsettled him. Unsettled him to the point that after several hours of the sensation the god found himself pacing in the living room and finally turning on his television. A device he rarely used and had a strong dislike towards, that he only used if he felt the need to keep up with local Midgardian news. A rare occurrence, but Loki hoped it could at least give him some answers.

Horrifyingly, they were not the answers he wanted. Shaky footage of people fading into dust, collapsing to the ground as their form simply dissipated. Loki knew immediately what had happened and it shook him to his core.

Thanos had won.

The mad titan had succeeded in his crazed goals. He had truly done it; half the universe gone with a simple snap. Mass casualties through every corner of the Nine Realms...it made his stomach churn. He didn’t know what to do; staying in this abandoned home no longer felt right, or even safe knowing that Thanos had the Infinity Stones and had already accomplished his goals. Who knew what else he desired to do?

But for now, he needed time to take in what had happened. Time to be thankful that he and Einmyria had been spared by pure luck. And time to figure out what to do next; though his thoughts were already turning to the possibility of returning to Asgard. Unfortunately for him, he would make many more grim discoveries over the following months. The knowledge that on top of Thanos’ victories, but that Asgard had been completely destroyed nearly broke him. Sleepless nights spent wondering the fate of those he once called friends, family. Of wondering if he could have saved anyone if he had not been cowardly in hiding. The same thoughts that had run through his mind when his mother had passed.

Months passed as Loki tried to track down information on Asgard, on his people. He started to go out in disguise, though no one was likely to recognize him in the midst of adjustment to life after the Snap. The god went to libraries with young Einmyria in tow, always keeping an eye out for those who would easily notice him like the Avengers. (Though he hoped they were busy helping the remaining civilians.)

Finally, after what felt like far too many months, he discovered the news on “New Asgard”. While the news still was not great, it gave him hope. His people had not all been wiped out in the destruction of their realm. They had survived, they had adapted. But he had to wonder, would he even be welcomed into New Asgard? Were the guards that had tortured him still alive?

Most importantly, who was King now?

But still, he had to try.

So, he prepared himself and his child for the journey, choosing his words carefully when explaining to her why they had to leave the only home she had ever known. And even though this was his chance to be free again, a chance for Einmyria to be around other Asgardian children, there was still a bittersweet feeling as Loki looked back on the home he had made for what he hoped would be the last time.

It took them several days to reach New Asgard, and when they could see it in the distance Loki found himself needing to pause. It was his last chance to turn back, his last chance to turn around. But he closed his eyes, took a slow, deep breath and slowly started towards the town with Einmyria at his heels. As they got close, Loki pulled the hood over his head, shrouding his identity just to be safe. He had no desire to make himself known until he was before the new ruler, whoever that may be.

As they entered the town, Loki looked around and took in everything he saw. Faces he recognized, people he remembered from so many years ago, now relegated to this small town, already struggling to rebuild. Struggling to make a new life, only for further struggles with the snap. They did not even pay any notice to the supposed “strangers” that were making their way through the streets. It made his heart break.

But he couldn’t linger on that, and his focus shifted to his actual goals. He found himself eavesdropping on conversations, picking up any hints that he could, knowing that he could not yet risk speaking to anyone and revealing himself too soon. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He stood before the building with hesitation, knowing that Asgard’s new King was waiting behind the doors, with the remaining Einherjar as they worked to rebuild.

After one final deep and calming breath, he stepped forward and pushed the door open to move inside. Einmyria trailed behind him cautiously, hand gripping his cloak as Loki reached up and lowered his hood.

“I am here for an audience with the King.”

#brynhildrvalkyrievoldsom #v;; awake and alive #yeah this ended up way longer than i originally inttended #but i hope it's okay!!!!

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willinglyghoulified · 2 years ago

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Sneak Peek at Book 3, Chapter 5

Will be published today here.

Danse and I boarded the Vertibird once more and made for Somerville Place, a small settlement just outside the Glowing Sea and the Charles River. We had two Minutemen stationed there, so I had radioed ahead so we wouldn't catch anyone by surprise.

When we arrived with still plenty of daylight left, we landed safely in a clearing beside a dirt path leading through the backyard of the small house there. It wasn't much of a settlement; it was more like a homestead, consisting of a small farmhouse, a few crops, a storage shed, and a broken-down car that once belonged to someone over two hundred years ago. The tree by the house had a fragile tire swing tied around the low branch.

We approached the settlement and waved at the two Minutemen patrolling around the front yard.

"Good to see you, General." One Minuteman shook my hand. She was fairly short with hair pulled back in a braid. "We heard you were coming, but what brings you?"

"We're doing a good job, I hope," said the other, a timid-looking fellow with short black hair beneath his hat.

"Everything's fine. We just had to park the Vertibird somewhere safe while we went into the Glowing Sea." I showed them my old hazard suit in my hand. "We'll be back before nightfall."

They exchanged glances. "Why the Glowing Sea? What would you wanna go in there for?"

"Well —"

Before I got to answer, the owner of the house walked up to us from where he was working in the garden. "If you're after that weird guy that lived out there, I wouldn't worry about him. He's in the shed over there. Showed up over a week ago, asking for shelter. Said he was a scientist and that he wouldn't be in the way, just wanted to be left alone. Had a Protectron with him."

Thank God, I thought. I had dreaded the trip back to the Glowing Sea since I had decided on it. Knowing I didn't have to walk into that Feral Ghoul- and Radscorpion-infested hell was a welcome relief.

"Can you take us to him?" I requested.

"Sure, follow me. I'll show you to the shed. He's got quite the set-up in there. Uh, try not to touch anything. One of my kiddos walked in there looking for a trowel and knocked a vial over. The guy had a fit."

We walked through the yard and up to the shed where the sliding barn door was shut. The man knocked on the door before slowly sliding it open.

Inside was a man in a ragged set of clothes, nothing like a typical scientist would wear. He stood over a table, scribbling something down on a piece of paper, the glasses on his face held together in the middle with tape. His hair was black, skin pale, and his hands, arms, and face were dirty as if he'd smeared something all over himself. Dirt?

"Good luck," the man muttered and walked away, leaving Dasne and me in the doorway of the shed.

The room was only lit by one dim lightbulb overhead, and Virgil's head snapped up in the direction of natural sunlight. "I already told you, there are no more of your tools in here. And I'm not hungry."

"Virgil?" I asked.

He froze. "You. You're her." He dropped his pen and abandoned the paper on the tabletop. "It's... good to finally match a face to the person who saved my ass." He gave me a faint smile, and his starry eyes darted across my face.

"And it's good to see you're no longer a Super Mutant."

He raised his arms for a hug at first, but a sudden awkwardness overtook him. He lowered his arms and hesitantly held out a hand. "Thank you."

I hugged him anyway, pulling him in close. He smelled like fertilizer, soil, and some chemical I couldn't quite place. "You're very welcome."

He briefly hugged me and patted me on the back before pulling away. "What made you want to come and see me? Curiosity?"

"I'm here to recruit you. I could use someone like you at the Castle."

"No, thank you. I'm not interested in becoming a soldier like these other... charming settlers. Not that they aren't good people, but their intelligence is less than nominal."

"You don't have to be a soldier. I'd rather put your science skills to use."

This seemed to have piqued his interest. He crossed his arms and eyed me. "... What would you have me do?"

"You're gifted in Bioscience, right? I just so happen to have some prewar vegetable seeds conditioned to grow in an irradiated environment that I could use your help with. I also have a scientist of sorts waiting at the Castle, eager to meet you. You'll have someone you can speak with on an intellectual level."

"... You have room for a fully functioning lab at this 'Castle?'"

"Yes. But anything has to be better than being cooped up in this storage shed, right?"

"I suppose. All right, I'll go back with you. B-But please, don't touch anything. I'll pack my own things."

#fallout #fanfiction #fanfic #sneak peek #wattpad #willinglyghoulified #gwenora rose isham #virgil #danse

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helenaheissner · 7 months ago

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A Dream of Summer Rain: Chapter 30

50 Years Ago

As they drove south into Alberta, mountains overtook the horizon. They passed town after town, and each of them were full of people starving in the streets, people shivering in the cold, people lashing out in violence. The snow covered everything, everyone, in a white blanket that hid the blood that stained it all. They drove down the ice-road, getting closer and closer to this ‘civilization’ Alistair had heard so much about. The land rose and fell beneath the wheels of their car while Aunt Elleanor drove. She’d arrived a week prior, having heard what happened, announcing she was here to bring Alistair to her school in the lower forty-eight.

He’d been so grateful to see another human being it wouldn’t have mattered who it was. But it was Aunt Elleanor, who was always writing him letters asking him how he was, who always brought him books and took him ice fishing when she visited, who rescued him, and that made it exponentially better.

“How are you doing?” she asked as they drove through their sixth or so dying mountain town. People sipping from bottles in brown bags held in frostbitten hands lined a main street of houses with boarded up windows and crumbling walls.

“These people,” Alistair said. “Is there nothing that can be done for them?”

“The governments of the world have decided they’re not worth helping,” Elleanor said.

“Why do we let them be in charge when they won’t help their own people?”

“Because there are more of them than there are of us.”

“And why is that?”

“Because magic is dying,” Elleanor said. “Fewer and fewer mages are born to each generation. So it shall be, until the Great Prophecy comes to pass, and the Chosen One defeats the Dark Lord and magic is allowed to flow from the Pale once more.”

“And when will that happen?”

“We’re not sure,” Elleanor admitted sadly. “I suppose it doesn’t help that we’ve lost track of the Chosen One.”

The world grew dimmer as that sank in. “How did that happen, precisely?” Aunt Elleanor gave a grim, almost fatalistic laugh. “We’re not sure of that, either. We got a tip as to his whereabouts, but by the time the Kishimotos got there he was long gone. I heard they killed his family out of spite.”

“Seems a bit tasteless,” Alistair said.

“Probably,” Elleanor said. “But that’s the way of magic- you either work with it or against it. From what we can tell, the Chosen One worked against it, so he had to be punished. Who knows what will happen now.”

Would his children be born without magic? His children’s children? How could he, how could they, honor the memory of their great House without magic? How could the world be fixed without it? That which lacked magic was broken, impoverished, pained. Weak. They needed someone strong to save them, to protect them, from themselves and from the rest of the world.

As the derelict town faded from the rearview mirror, Alistair told himself that something needed to be done.

They drove through the mountains several hours more until they came upon a town with its own inn. Night had fallen, and Elleanor’s exhaustion was evident from her constant yawning. The town was isolated at a mountain’s peak, built in a ring around its center. It was small, only a few miles all across- more a village than a town. The night was dark, and everyone must’ve been sleeping in their houses- which, given how many houses there were, meant there couldn’t be that many people. Alistair found it odd that a town this small and out of the way had an inn at all, but he was so exhausted he didn’t question it. And unlike many of the towns he’d come across, the houses didn’t have boarded up windows, and there wasn’t anyone laying in the cold street.

They booked a room with two queen sized beds, and fell asleep quickly. The room was Spartan, lacking the refinement and grandiosity the Castle had accustomed him to. But he supposed it would do for now. Not everything could be a castle, just as not everyone could be strong.

Alistair woke up some time later, his chest aching, his Star desperate for release. He knew he shouldn’t, but the fire in his chest wouldn’t diminish otherwise. He hadn’t used magic at all in the past week- the longest he’d ever gone sans. It was an itch he couldn’t quite scratch, a dimness in his vision he desperately wished to be rid of. So he tapped his chest, and the crimson Star emerged and circled him. Elleanor didn’t stir from her bed, and Alistair simply watched the Star dance, mesmerized. Warmth and bliss ran through his veins, and all was well.

Twenty minutes went by of Alistair simply watching his Star. Twenty minutes, after which a shifting sound reached through the closed door to their room. Then a clicking of the tumblers on a lock adjusting.

Someone was coming in.

Alistair only had time to say, “Aunt Elleanor,” before the door burst open and three ghouls charged at them.

Elleanor awoke, and did not hesitate to grab the shotgun from under her bed and blow one of the ghoul’s brains out. Then another. Then the third.

“Move,” Elleanor said.

And he did, and together they ran, jumping out the window and running from the front of the hotel. But when they got outside, they saw the entire town had gathered before them, all bearing fangs and claws, all baying for blood. They surrounded the inn on all sides, forming a circular mob in the town square through which Alistair and Elleanor couldn’t possibly escape.

There were hundreds of them, thousands- where had they all come from? There was no way this tiny village could support such a large population.

This couldn’t be the end. It wouldn’t be the end. And yet, trapped in a village atop a mountain, surrounded by a swarm of ghouls, nobody else around for dozens of miles, and only one gun between the two of them… The odds weren’t good.

Alistair breathed it in. He had a Star, at least. That would buy him a few minutes in a fight. He hoped.

And then the Star did something curious: it shot forward, past the crowd, into the small one-story cabin at the town’s exact geographic center. It swam through the wooden door, and Alistair knew a familiar sense of fear and abandonment. The crowd of ghouls began to close in on them, and Alistair found himself hyperventilating.

The ghouls stopped, the closest mere inches from Alistair and Elleanor. Elleanor did not lower her shotgun, did not stop loading new rounds into it.

“WAIT! WAIT A MINUTE!” a low, masculine voice called. The source emerged from the cabin into which Alistair’s Star had gone. He had red eyes and dark hair and dark brown skin, and he wore a simple blue and white robe. Around him danced a violet Destiny Star, and Alistair’s own red Star swayed about near him.

All the ghouls turned toward the man and bowed. All but one, the one nearest Elleanor, who lunged for her.

The man raised a hand, and a bolt of purple light shot forth and struck the offending ghoul in the back of the head. The purple flame erupted into a massive pyre, and the ghoul screamed as it turned to ash before Alistair’s eyes. Brimstone wafted through the cold night air, floating up to the sky. Alistair couldn’t move, could barely process what he was seeing. What kind of magic was this? That ghoul in the Arctic had used it as well- it seemed unique to their kind, but there was no way they could all do that.

“A little Entropy always does the trick,” the man said with a self-satisfied smirk, “Now everyone, that’s quite enough. We won’t be eating these two just yet. Leave us. ” And that was enough for them. They all simply left, went back inside their homes, leaving the remains of their fallen brethren behind them to be swept away in the wintry wind. Only a young woman, somewhere in her early twenties, stayed and watched. She looked like this other man, perhaps a blood relative.

“My name is Saul Emory,” the man said, drinking in the red and purple Starlight. “To which of you does this Star belong?”

When Alistair saw his aunt was about to speak for him, he stepped forward and said, “Mine. My name is Alistair Albrecht, High Prince of House Albrecht, leader of all necromancers. And that is my Star.”

As if to validate him, his Red shot back over and hung above Alistair’s head.

Saul threw his head back and laughed. “Well isn’t that just perfect. I’ve been wondering when you’d show up. But I don’t think the time is right just yet.”

“What are you talking about?” Alistair said.

“You’re meant to kill me, boy,” Saul said. “That’s what your Destiny is. To slay the King of the Ghouls.”

Alistair shook as the full implications registered. If this was the King, and he was meant to kill him… This man, this king, this creature must’ve had a hand in his family’s death. Swelling with righteous fury, Alistair charged forward, but Elleanor grabbed the back of his coat and locked him in place. He tried to wriggle free, to no avail. “Alistair. No. You won’t survive.”

His rage tripled. Did she just call him weak?! No, no he wasn’t weak! How dare she!?

The King spoke: “I’d LISTEN to your aunt, boy. While I’d like for us to fight one day, it wouldn’t be much of a fight. It would simply be killing a child- which I’m far from morally opposed to, but after you’ve done it enough times it rather loses the thrill. What DOESN’T lose the thrill, however, is a PROPER fight. Come back when you’re older, and we’ll see if Destiny is what it’s cracked up to be. Now. I’ll give you five minutes to get to your car and get out of here. After that… Well, there are limits on how long I can keep my subjects at bay, so I’d get moving.”

“No,” Alistair said. “You killed my family! You die here, monster!”

He began charging up a spell, not noticing Elleanor bringing the butt of her rifle down onto his head until it was already making contact and robbing him of consciousness.

When he woke up, he was back in his aunt’s car, and it was daytime. Around him was more green than he’d ever seen in his life: green tree leaves, green grass, green bushes. He shook in the passenger’s seat, the sunlight harsh on his pale skin. “What- what happened?! What’s going on?” he said.

“I stopped you from doing something incredibly stupid,” Elleanor said, parking the car.

“That wasn’t your decision to make!”

“Given that I’m your guardian, and that you would’ve died, it was. You’re welcome. Now. We’re here.”

Alistair gritted his teeth, and reluctantly looked outside. They stood atop a hill, overlooking a valley, in which laid the school of necromancy. “You won’t be able to stop me next time,” he said.

“I know,” Elleanor said with a sad smile. “All I can do is make sure you’re ready when that day comes.”

He sighed. “How much do we even know about ghouls? About this Entropy magic they can use?”

“Quite a bit. You’re in the perfect place to learn about all that.” Very well then. He would learn. And he would be ready. For more than just his own Destiny, too- saving the world from ghouls would be pointless if magic died. He would avenge his family, and he would save magic, and he would fix everything. No matter the cost. He wasn’t strong enough yet, but he would be. He would make sure of it.

***

The wind snaked between trunks and branches and leaves as rain blasted it all from above. The patter of the precipitation, the shape of its noise as it met the town outside, was too familiar for Lacy not to recognize: she was home. Dresden, Michigan. She hadn’t been back in three years. She’d tried her hardest to never return. And yet here she was. Many things had, at least in their general appearance, stayed the same.

Other things, however…

Footsteps without accompanying heartbeats stalked through the town, marching like soldiers gone berserk across the wet dirt and pavement. Each home contained massive clusters of pulses and breathing, often four or five or six per house, but each day they grew quieter. Sometimes an entire house went quiet. Sometimes soldiers were added to the disorganized, wildly marching ranks that patrolled the town. The rain was the drumbeat to which they marked, but they had to eat quickly so that the raw meat didn’t spoil in the cold, damp weather.

Lacy sat on the floor of her cage. There was a cot behind her, a toilet and a sink to her left, a glass wall in front of her, and a red-glowing rune on the ceiling above. Her legs were folded together, and she sat up straight on the brick floor.

Every day, twice a day, Mrs. Woodrow brought her food and water, and then spent the next thirty minutes observing her. Just sitting there, in a wooden rocking chair she kept outside the cell. Refusing to say anything at all, no matter how Lacy tried to engage or provoke her.

The rest of the day, Lacy spent alone. Drew wasn’t there to talk to her any more- apparently Danny could see him now. How the hell did that work? Was Drew real? He must’ve been, but that didn’t account for what he was. The most logical explanation was that he was Drew’s ghost, but that still… Just didn’t feel right.

The food was always bland. Lacy’s ribs were starting to stick out of her skin again. She’d just gotten used to having body mass, too. The sheets were scratchy on her skin, and she’d been wearing the same top and skirt since waking. She wanted a shower. She wanted to stretch her legs, to… To see the sun again. She missed being outside. Never thought she’d feel that way, but here I am so I guess that’s that. I’ve changed. I wanted to change. And now I’m back where I started against my will this is just great just fucking great fucking great great great.

The rain fell, and Lacy tilted her head back and listened to it, reorienting herself to her hometown. Everything was still where it had been before, more or less. She might not know the game very well, but she knew the board and where the pieces were better than any of her opponents. She shook her head to stay focused- she couldn’t afford to space out right now. She needed to figure out what she’d do next.

The door opened. Mrs. Woodrow walked through. She put a tray of applesauce through the food latch, and sat down in her chair to watch Lacy eat. She wouldn’t leave until Lacy finished. She never did. Lacy finished her meal- the texture was horrendously slimy, so she tried to force it down to sate her hunger. She wiped her mouth, then she looked up at her jailor.

And then, to her astonishment and horror and confusion, Mrs. Woodrow spoke: “What is it that you want, Lacy?”

Lacy kept silent: it was her turn not to speak.

“Well?” Mrs. Woodrow asked.

Lacy blinked.

“It’s rude not to answer when someone asks you a question, Lacy.”

“Could say the same thing to you, bitch,” Lacy half-said half-muttered, then flinched as she realized she’d said that out loud. Dammit.

“So tell me, dear, what do you want?” Mrs. Woodrow asked. She wore a plaid tweed suit with a knee-length skirt, suspenders, a white blouse, and white high heels. Diamond studs filled her ears lobes, with a matching necklace around her throat. Her long brown hair hung flat-ironed down her back. Lacy could see a bit of resemblance to Gwen- the height and build, the small nose, the big eyes. More than that, though, was the way Mrs. Woodrow sat, the way her posture felt both practiced and relaxed as she crossed her legs and leaned forward and rested her chin on her clasped hands. Lacy had seen Gwen do it more than once, mostly when she’d first started training her.

Lacy looked down at the floor.

“Lacy. What do you want?”

“I want to talk to Danny,” Lacy said.

Mrs. Woodrow cocked her head to the side. “Very well! I’ll see what I can do.”

Lacy furrowed her brow. “Just like that?”

“All you had to do was ask,” Mrs. Woodrow said.

Lacy shook her head, then thought of a move. “And what is it that you want?”

Mrs. Woodrow drummed her fingers on her lap. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You in this for the same reason as your husband?”

Mrs. Woodrow parted her red lips and bared her big white teeth. “Do you even know the true reason he’s doing all this?”

“To take over the world.”

“Yes! But do you know why?”

“It doesn’t matter- there’s not a good reason to do something like that.”

Mrs. Woodrow sighed, and looked at Lacy with the same expression people always wore when Lacy asked questions they felt had obvious answers. “I’ll leave my husband to explain himself- he’d like to talk to you as well. As for myself, I believe in his cause, but more so than anything else, I believe in the Sovereignty. We have hidden in the shadows for far too long, looking at the world from afar when we could seize it for ourselves. It belongs to us.”

Disgust curdled in Lacy’s stomach. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”

“Whatever do you mean, dear girl?”

“The world doesn’t fucking belong to you!”

“And to whom does it belong then? You?”

“Of course not! It doesn’t belong to any of us!”

“Then whom? God? If God opposed this action, He wouldn’t have given us magic in the first place! If anything He must surely be wondering why we’ve waited so long to pursue this course.”

“You claim to know how God thinks?” Lacy balked, fists balling.

“No. Just making an educated guess. No more and no less than you can offer. While Danny tells me you’ve studied the Good Book a fair deal, I’m afraid you have rather less experience than I in the ways of humankind.”

“You talk like a fucking crazy person, you know that?”

“Language, dear! Such profanity is unbecoming of a young lady. You’ve already so many disadvantages on that front, you ought to curb the ones you can control.”

Shame and self-disgust surged through Lacy’s chest and throat, and when she tried to open her mouth the threat of her too-low voice gave her pause.

Mrs. Woodrow stood up from her seat. “I’ll look into letting Danny see you. He’s tied up at the moment, but I think he can be let out for a small while in a day or two. Until then, you just… Wait here.”

She laughed at her own joke as she left.

Lacy buried her face in her hands.

The hours went by with little else to do but listen to the rain and think. Think about what she was going to do. Outside, people were dying, people were in fear and pain. This was her hometown, she had to do something.

At the very least, she had to get out, and she had to stop the Albrechts. She stared at the rune overhead. It was blocking her magic, blocking her Star from leaving her body. She’d tried to blow up the cell immediately upon waking, and found she couldn’t conjure even the simplest spell. All she had at her disposal was her ears; all she could do was listen. Listen to her home dying at the hands of these monsters. She would put a stop to this; she would kill Alistair, and its wife, and its…

Its son. That was what stopping all this meant. Its son, her best friend, whom it had pitted against her. She’d known it since Peoria- that was what she’d been hoping to accomplish. Danny had to die. But not without knowing the full consequences of what he’d done.

She started pacing the narrow width of her cell, desperate to move even a tiny little bit. Then, as the rain grew harsher and day faded to night, the door opened, and the King of the Ghouls entered the room.

It was the first time Lacy had gotten a good, close look at it without the hazy filter of horror and adrenaline. It was about as tall as its wife was in high heels, probably just shy of six feet. It had a lean, slender frame, and it looked fully human in spite of its lack of a heartbeat and its crimson red eyes. And if there were that many more ghouls hiding in town besides it… They had to be getting food from somewhere.

Lacy’s stomach lurched, and her posture straightened. She stood before the glass and glared at Alistair Albrecht. It wore a black button-down under a long black cloak with a silver raven on the lapel. Its long white hair was tied back in a ponytail, and it breathed in through its nose and out through his mouth.

“Do you even need to breathe?” Lacy asked.

Alistair’s head tilted quizzically.

“You don’t have a heartbeat,” Lacy clarified. “Is the breathing just for show?”

“It’s muscle memory,” Alistair replied. “I do without even having to think about it.”

God, and I thought my voice was low, Lacy thought. “I see.”

“You know who I am.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“And what do you think of me?” Alistair said.

“I think you’re a monster,” Lacy said. “I think you’re evil. I think you’re going to hell.” “I appreciate your candor,” Alistair nodded. It sounded… Sincere? No, no it couldn’t be. This had to be some kind of ploy. “What else do you think of me?”

Lacy stepped further toward the glass. “I think you ruined your children’s lives. Gwen and Danny are the only ones left, and look how they turned out.”

“Yes. They’re both so weak,” it spat.

“Not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?” Alistair asked.

“That you hurt them. That they’re broken now, because of you and your insanity.”

“Insane? You think me insane?”

“You want world domination. That’s definitionally insane,” Lacy said with a manic smile.

Alistair let his hair down and ran a hand through it. “Do you know why I’m doing this?”

“I do,” Lacy said, mirroring his gesture. “And I don’t think it matters.”

“And why not?”

“Because it’s a bad thing to do, no matter what the reason.”

“Ah, yes. Just like murder. Just like what you did to my daughter Elaine.”

Lacy flinched. “That’s different.”

“How so? You just said some things are wrong no matter what.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I didn’t mean to break my children, as you so put it. But I suppose in some ways I did, and as you’ve said that makes me a bad person regardless of how or why I did it, regardless of whether or not I meant to. So by that same token, you’re a murderer, and thou shalt not murder.”

“You’re a hell of a person to be preaching that, you bastard,” Lacy’s eyes bulged, and her fingernails pricked the flesh of her palms.

“And you’re a hell of a person to be judging anyone,” Alistair said. “You spend your whole life hiding away, afraid to make any choices, and you judge those who lack your cowardice. Never having to make a choice means you’ll never have to make any mistakes- that’s evidently your rationale. It’s really quite pitiful.”

Guilt and shame pricked Lacy like needles in a pincushion. That wasn’t true- that wasn’t why she… Wasn’t why she…. “Fine then. Let’s say intent does matter in the eyes of God. What the hell are you doing all this for? I wanna hear you say it.”

Alistair smiled. “To save the world, of course. To save magic.”

Lacy scowled. “Here we fuckin’ go.”

“What do you know about magic? Of its nature? Where it comes from?”

“Nothing. And I’ve got this feeling you’re about to start lecturing me, so I’d say I’m fine in not knowing.”

“So proud of your ignorance.”

Lacy’s hands shook and her breathing grew haggard. “Are you gonna monologue at me or not? Because if not, I’d like to get some sleep.”

Alistair’s blank expression rippled into rage, and it grabbed the chair in front of it and smashed it against the floor. Lacy jumped backwards, leaning against the wall once more.

“Do I have your attention now?” Alistair said, cackling, walking closer to the glass wall and putting its massive palm flat against it. “Or do you wish to keep offering your banal commentary?”

Lacy didn’t blink. She couldn’t afford to let this bastard think it had anything on her, that she was afraid of it. Couldn’t indicate to it just how much she was shaking inside. She could only hope it wasn’t obvious from her face and voice.

“Magic comes from the Pale,” Alistair said. Lacy’s eyes locked onto Alistair at the mention of the place. How did it know about the Pale? “It is the world between worlds, the way-station between our land and the Elvenlands, into the Cosmic West. But the gap between our world and the Pale grows wider with each passing year, and as a result-”

“Fewer and fewer mages are born to each generation,” Lacy recalled.

“Yes,” Alistair said, face softening. “Very good- Guinevere taught you well. Now, while we lose our magic bit by bit, the Elvenlands stay the same. They grow no further; they remain unaffected by Entropy. And one day, our magic will die, and their’s shall remain, and they will come for us. And they will kill us all.”

“So your solution is to steal the thing that could let the elves in before then?” Lacy said, flattening her tone to hide the fear. “You’re a genius, Al.”

Its eyes peeled wide, and its smile revealed all of its very sharp teeth. “You don’t even remotely realize that Star’s full potential. It has the ability to end worlds. It could end their’s while preserving ours and giving us more magic than ever before. In the right hands.”

“And those ‘right hands’ are yours, I’m guessing?”

“They don’t have to be.”

“Meaning?”

“Work with me,” Alistair said. “We can save the world.”

“Join you?” Lacy said. “Become a ghoul?”

“What? No. Dear girl, why would I ask you to become a monster when you do not have to. Look at me- I am a monster, as you have said. But you are already perfectly human and elf both. You must not taint yourself- you can remain pure.”

Pure? “Pretty sure that ship has sailed,” Lacy said, sitting down on her cot. This was getting to be a lot to take in.

“As you yourself have said, intention matters. You can save the world and your own soul at the same time.”

“I don’t think that's possible,” Lacy said, a hollow in her voice filling with unwept tears.

“How are you so young and yet already so fatalistic?” It said, putting a hand to its mouth as if in concern, as if something like it could feel even a shred of compassion.

“Why do you want to save magic so badly?” Lacy said, leaning against the wall and tilting her head to the side.

“To protect us from the elves.”

A spark ignited a tinder of outrage in her mind, evaporating the confusion and sorrow. “Bullshit,” Lacy said, hopping off the bed, stepping closer to the glass.

“Excuse me?”

Lacy gritted her teeth, letting the rage pour through her. This thing couldn’t be serious, and if it was, if it sincerely believed it was doing the right thing through all this… No. She wouldn’t stand for that. Fuck that. Fuck people like that- all they ever did was make everything worse. And this guy wasn’t a person, he was a creature. An it. “Did I stutter? There’s no way you actually believe that that’s what you're doing. The elves aren’t being held back by us, they’re being held back by something else, something way bigger. They have to be, or we’d have all been fucked to death by now.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not doing this because you think it’s right and just, you’re doing this to make yourself feel good,” Lacy said, putting her own palm flat on the glass. “Fucking admit it, and maybe I’ll consider helping you,” she lied.

Alistair rolled its eyes. And then it turned around, and said, “When your mind is clearer and your ego less bruised, perhaps we can further this conversation. For now, though, I’ll let you think about my offer. And perhaps reconsider your own nihilism. You can’t possibly believe in such an empty world, Lacy. If you do, the world will inevitably prove you wrong, and it will break you so much more ferociously than if you’d simply allowed yourself to accept it as it is. Not demand that it be the void of apathy you so desire. Such a place already exists, and it calls for us all. It is up to each of us individually to be strong enough to resist it. And the only way I know how is through the course of action I’m currently on. I shall pray for you, and perhaps you shall see the light.”

“Don’t fucking pray for me! You don’t have the right to ask God for anything- you’re not a person, you’re a thing!” Lacy screamed through the glass, her posture and monotone decaying rapidly.

Alistair said, without looking back, “Know that I feel sorry for you, truly. It has been some time since I found a creature as pathetic as you. But you will see reason eventually. They all do. They accept the responsibility the universe has bestowed upon as mages, to protect and elevate humankind. Before this is over, you will believe in the possibility of a better world.”

And with that, he went through the door and left, closing it gently behind him.

Lacy slumped to the floor, pressed her back against the glass, buried her face in her hands, and screamed. A flash of lighting outside caused her warped reflection to appear in the glass, and the image seared deep into her brain.

Day turned to night turned to day turned to night amidst the ceaseless rainstorm. Lacy peered through her fingers up at the runes on the ceiling. The rain hadn’t let up, so her excess power wasn’t being repressed so much as discharged into the surrounding area. It didn’t used to be like this- it didn’t used to be this dramatic when she kept her magic bottled up.

No going back. That was rule number one. No going back, no running away.

Alistair was completely sincere in his offer. That was what scared her about it so much- she hadn’t wanted to accept it, but he completely meant everything he said. He genuinely thought he would save the world by taking her Star, by conquering the planet with his army of ghouls and ushering in a new age of magic with himself at the top of the proverbial pyramid built with the bodies of everyone else. And he was just as sincere when he said he would pray for her.

Someone approached the attic, ascending the winding stairs. Danny had always said the attic was the most off-limits part of the whole house: he’d never been allowed up there as a kid. His mother had said his Uncle Lamont would come and skin him if he did. Lacy wondered whether or not that was literally true.

She stood up, folded her hands behind her back, and walked to the edge of the glass wall.

The door opened. Danny entered and let the door fall shut behind him with a gentle click.

“Wow,” Lacy said, “You look like shit.”

She meant it- any color he’d had in his skin had been stripped away, and his beard had grown back in greasy, uneven patches. The bags under his eyes were the size of pinballs, and the red light of the sigil shone off the slick layer of dried sweat on his skin.

Danny said nothing, just stared with half-opened eyes.

“Well?” Lacy said. “Do you want something?”

Danny breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his ill-fitting jeans and slumped his shoulders. “Why are you still holding out?”

Lacy laughed bitterly. “What?”

“You heard me. My dad’s made you a perfectly reasonable offer-”

“No, he has not. He’s made me a demonstrably insane offer. I categorically refused.”

“Lacy, come on-”

“‘Come on?’ Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’ll be easier if you go along with this. You won’t have to deal with anyone again. If you give up the Star, my parents will let you live out the rest of your life in the exact state of isolationist hermitage you’ve always wanted. So yeah, come on; we’re offering you your life’s dream.”

“It’s not my dream anymore,” Lacy said, cracking her knuckles one at a time. “It was, I’ll give you that. But things have changed. I’ve changed. My priorities have changed.”

“Oh really? And what are your priorities now?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Lacy said. Like Alistair had said, she was a murderer, plain and simple. She’d killed Elaine, and she’d killed all those ghouls. She’d killed at least two dozen of them at this point. The only consolation was that everyone she’d killed was a monster like her, a thing like her. If that’s what she was, if that’s what they were, then she may as well be the apex predator. And the first step towards that was backing her prey into a corner.

Danny’s head dropped, and he began to laugh.

“Something funny?” Lacy said.

“Not you, I promise. I believe you. I know you’re telling the truth,” Danny said. “I’m laughing at myself. I really should’ve seen this coming.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I dunno. Didn’t think it through. I was distracted.”

“Drunk. You mean you were drunk, you fucking bitch.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Shut up.”

“Just a sloppy fucking drunk who can barely tell what’s going on around him-”

“Shut up!”

Lacy smirked as she said the words she knew would hurt most. “You’re just like my parents. I bet when they died, they were too sloshed to even tell what was going on. I bet they tasted beer-battered for your old man. And when he does the same to you, when you become more trouble than you’re worth, you’ll taste the same, you stupid bastard.”

“SHUT UP!”

Lacy slammed her palm against the glass. “I don’t think you get it, dumbass. You’ve signed your death certificate. But think of it this way- if I kill you, you won’t die from the withdrawal, and I’m given to understand that’s way worse.”

Danny gritted his teeth. Smoke and sparks shot from his hands. Lacy balled her fists. That’s it, you fucking moron. Melt the glass, let me out of here-

Danny shook his head, wiped the hair from his eyes. “Clever. You had me going there. You really did. But it’s not gonna work.”

“Seems to be working pretty well, dickhead.”

“It’s not gonna work! I can read you like a book, Lacy, I know what you’re planning- you’re trying to provoke me.”

“‘Trying.’ Yes.”

“Fuck you, Lacy,” Danny said, eyes wide as saucers, every syllable overpronounced and bellowed. “You’ve always thought you were better than me-”

“What?!” Lacy said, her hands shaking with rage.

Danny’s hands took the same position. “You. Think. You’re. Better. Than. Me. Hell, you think you’re better than everyone. Good little miss Catholic girl, always judging me and everyone else for wanting to live our lives-”

“Fuck you.”

“Thinking you’re fucking special, like the rules shouldn’t have to apply to you-”

“Fuck you!”

“And that’s why you get to just sit everything out, not have to deal with anyone or anything, not have to live up to any of your responsibilities while having the gall to judge me for wanting to live up to mine!”

“FUCK YOU!” Lacy screamed.

Danny screamed back, an incoherent shriek of ire. Behind him, smoke began to rise in curling plumes, and sparks once again shot from his hands.

Lacy screamed right back, plumbing the depths of her soul to search for the power kept at bay by the runes. And above them, the runes flickered, and for a moment a surge of energy saturated her being.

The door tore open, and Danny’s mother stomped through and grabbed her son by the elbow. They were both out of the room before Lacy could think of anything to say. She heard the collision of Mrs. Woodrow’s palm against Danny’s face, and she heard her say something about how he wasn’t ready yet.

The rune reasserted its wroth red reign.

Lacy kicked the glass and grunted before slumping onto the floor. She shook with fury and frustration, but as she stared up at the rune, she saw a sliver of hope.

***

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#serial fiction #original fiction #web novel #trans woman #wlw #trans protagonist #action #urban fantasy #indie author #horror #urban fantasy books #ghouls #elves #dark lord #chosen one #prophecy #destiny #genre deconstruction #deconstruction

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psychosncottagecore · 3 years ago

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The Falls - Sebastian De Poitiers (Bash)

Four times Y/N falls into Sebastian

One (long) time Sebastian falls for Y/N

2397 words

Song the fic is heavily based on Y/N’s time at French court was - interesting to say the least. She’d originally been the second choice for a lady-in-waiting for Mary after Ailee’s untimely demise. That was not the interesting part however, being a lady of minor titles from a country that was not Scotland, that made the dynamics between her and the Queen she had sworn loyalty to a little more interesting. But once again, that was not the interesting part.

No, the interesting part was the dark haired bastard with the opalescent eyes that seemed to follow her whenever they occupied the same space. The interesting part was how damn clumsy someone could be when they were distracted. The interesting part - well the interesting part really started when she fell.

The day was atypical to say the least for French court, the normal hustle and bustle of courtiers and servants and guests and dignitaries and other such people was muted for a day or so, quite why Y/N had no idea, and she liked it that way. She enjoyed not having to conceal smiles and her whims underneath five layers of fabric and a metaphorical iron mask required for the court. A stroll around the lake was in order, Mary was off and busy with Francis, Kenna, Greer and Lola were all doing there own thing, and so that left the newest lady-in-waiting some time to amble around the grounds and enjoy the soft sound of the lake lapping at the shoreline. So entranced had Y/N become in her activity of examining the grounds and marveling at the small ships that sat waiting upon the lake that she hadn’t noticed the sound of boots approaching, nor the mud beneath her slippered feet before it was too late.

Quite what prompted the slip she had no idea, an over-eager examination of a particularly interesting bullrush? A misplaced footstep, or fate playing some cruel game with her? Whatever the answer to that may be, Y/N slipped and found the ground come rushing up towards her but before she could hit it, a pair of arms managed to lift her up just in time to save complete humiliation, instead she got away with just partial humiliation.

“Are you quite alright?” She hadn’t the guts to look up and see who she had embarrassed herself in front of but just from the voice alone she knew it to be Sebastian, Bash as he insisted most people called him. The man she oft found herself stealing glances at during particularly boring meetings of the court. Who could blame her? Raising her gaze hesitantly, a grimace overtook the young woman's features followed by an uneasy laugh

“Nothing is injured but my pride, and I hope that shall soon recover.” She responded, the uneasy laugh was accompanied by a smile, a dimple forming on her left cheek as her eyes eventually met those clear blue ones of Bash. A chuckle sounded from the man before her and he gave a warm smile

“Would your pride allow you to venture a little further from the shore? To ensure that doesn’t happen again?” He prompted as he glanced to the waves shifting mere meters from them, the lady - Y/N, he knew her name well enough even if the reason her name stuck in his head was less than fully honorable. Y/N, the court-lady who no matter her efforts could not conceal an expression to save her life, Y/N the lady-in-waiting who’s eyes he often felt upon his form, Y/N the woman who had his heart sent in a flurry every time she deigned to pay attention to him, which was often he found.

“That is perhaps a more sensible idea, Bash. But when have I ever been one for sensible ideas?” Was all she responded with, patting the man on the arm tentatively, a smile upon her face “now, thank you for coming to my aid but if you’ll excuse me, I have more fresh air to enjoy before I am inevitably dragged back into those stuffy court rooms.” She told him with a playful smile, turning to continue her walk along the shoreline.

To any onlooker, they might have seen a pair who knew each other fleetingly, greet one another and head on their separate ways. To two very specific onlookers however, they saw two fools dancing around a clear mutual-attraction. Mary saw the red inflaming her lady's face and Francis saw the wistful gaze cast back towards the retreating figure of the woman by his brother.

“Do you believe we should tell them?” He whispered to Mary, the young Queen merely raised a brow

“As if it would make any difference.” She teased, both of the bull-headed idiots she loved so dearly would have to work it out for themselves, for she knew neither would listen to their advice, they could… perhaps, turning and uttering a long winded plan to her fiance, a grin spread over both their features.

The second fall, well one could characterize it as a fall but really it was a controlled dip. The Yule festivities had been fast approaching and ever since that day on the lake both Y/N and Bash’s conversations had grown more frequent and intricate, still there was an invisible and silent line both acknowledged and neither crossed. The line that meant they could only ever talk in public, the line that prohibited more personal topics past interests, the line that meant despite the lingering glances upon one another's lips, nothing happened. But the Yule ball, the Yule ball had to roll around and mess with everyone and everything in it’s path, leaving behind a wake of destruction. Of course Y/N would attend, both because she was Mary’s lady in waiting and because - well - who would miss an opportunity for such a grand festivity? Besides, if she wanted to leave she already had her Queen’s blessing to do so.

“What about this one? Don’t you think Francis would just die when he sees Mary in it?” Kenna exclaimed as she picked one of Mary’s dresses from the wardrobe. Greer shook her head at the other girl and laughed

“So would any other man who so much as enters the same room! No, we need something more modest, we are still representing Scotland.” She chided gently and both Kenna and Y/N exchanged a playful look, Greer, ever the responsible one, keeping them all in line and on task.

“You may borrow it if you’d like, Kenna. I doubt I will have use of it in the near future.” Mary told her lady happily, her gaze glancing to Y/N.

“And you, I have the perfect colour for you.” She told her, quickly finding a dress of dark burgundy and gold, the colours you would most often find Bash sporting, it did not slip past the attention of the other ladies, Y/N though, was simply too taken aback by the Queen’s generosity and the gorgeous cut of the dress. Hesitantly, she accepted and donned the dress, much to the delight of the girls surrounding her.

The soft sound of music surrounded the women as Mary led their entrance into the ball, the Queen flanked either side by her ladies-in-waiting. Of course the arrival of the Queen and her ladies caused the attention to shift from the festivities to the women for a few precious moment, during those moments, Bash was incredibly glad he had situated himself at the back of the hall for he almost choked upon the wine he was sipping from when he saw Y/N sporting the burgundy and gold dress. She looked - divine. There was no other word, she looked as if she was heaven sent and God what he wouldn’t do to sweep her onto the dance floor and off her feet.

“You’re staring.” A voice prompted from beside him, causing the entranced gaze of the bastard to fall to his half-brother beside him.

“This cannot be a coincidence brother, you planned this!” He accused, his voice a quiet hiss as he watched the blond take the last nonchalant sip of his wine before placing the cup down to take Mary onto the dance floor.

It took a few dances to pass before Y/N was able to escape the other ladies and find Bash, her eyes couldn’t help but shine as she laid eyes upon him, no matter how much she tried to perfect her court-mask it was simply impossible to hide her excitement every time she saw the brunette.

“Dance with me? I’m beginning to feel left out!” She joked softly, of course she had at least two cups of wine, it was a festivity, meant to be enjoyed and at that point all of her friends had been swept onto the dance floor but she had refused every attempt.

“Are you certain? It might be-” before any more protests could be uttered, Bash found he had been unwittingly pulled onto the marble floors and his arms closed around Y/N before the next dance started.

“Stop your ridiculous protests and dance.” Was all she demanded, a smile upon her face, he might have noticed the way her eyes lingered upon his face had he not been distracted by her adorable dimples. Simply returning her demand with a grin, he inclined his head and fell into the steps of the dance almost like second nature.

Before the pair knew it two, then three songs had passed, subconsciously they must have realized for they adjusted their dancing style every time the dance changed.

“Perhaps one more before we stop to refresh ourselves?” He asked with a weary smile, he did not want to release her but the dances were certainly exerting. An understanding yet disappointed nod came from the woman, although she did not want to separate from Bash, she was beginning to feel her throat become dry and she wasn’t sure her heart could stand the hammering sensation she felt every time she was around Bash. In almost perfect synchronization, but for a few inexperienced boys for whom this dance was their first, the men on the dance floor dipped their partners. Y/N’s eyes almost shut with the broadness of her grin before she caught sight of the mistletoe hung above the entire dance floor, the wine was most certainly taking full effect as she made the decision, his lips were millimeters away from hers and all it took was a slight raise to her head for their lips to brush.

The song ended before anything could be said and she found herself being mobbed by Kenna, Lola and Greer who needed to get drinks as well, leaving Sebastian staring after the woman, the memory of her lips against his.

“You’re staring again.” This time the voice was Mary’s as she brushed past him after her ladies, a triumphant grin upon her lips as she followed them to the drinks before pulling her group out of the hall, feigning tiredness although Bash was certain she was doing this to torture him now.

The third fall, the third fall was the simultaneous fall of two hearts mere days after the Yule ball. It had felt like an eternity for the pair, days spent just barely missing one another for this meeting or that completely necessary lunch with a visiting dignitary before they headed home for Yule. An eternity where the pair were forced to contemplate the kiss and the others emotions, an eternity of Y/N wondering if the invisible line was there for Bash’s lack of affection for her. An eternity of Bash wondering if the kiss was simply a product of wine and Yule joy.

Eventually, as with every good love story, the pair found their way to one another, out in the gardens once more.

“Y/N!” The summon was more like a bellow and the woman reluctantly turned, she knew it was Sebastian and she knew that he would have questions. “You know what I must ask?” His eyes were filled with such sweet sincerity and uncertainty as he studied the woman. Once again the grimace overtook her features and she dipped her head.

“It was not the wine that produced the desire to kiss you.” She confessed softly, her eyes landing everywhere but upon the mans face. “If you’ll excuse me I believe K-” She had turned and attempted to make her way away from Sebastian since his lack of a response was a response enough. Before she could take two steps away she felt an insistent pull at her hand and she was pulled into his embrace, well she more fell into it and into the hand that pressed against her cheek. Warm lips laid overtop of hers, warm and insistent although she felt the hesitation, allowing her a few moments to pull away, not that she would even if she had the will-power to.

“Tell me you don’t want this? Tell me that and I promise we will go back to talking about the weather and never speak of this again.” He promised softly, eyes leveling sincerely to gauge the woman's reactions.

“You are much more stupid then you look.” She joked, pulling him back into the kiss, a lilting laugh escaping her as she leaned her forehead against him for a few precious moments. “I have been half in love with you for weeks, stupid man.” She added with a breathy laugh that he returned.

“And I you. More in love then I have ever been.” He whispered out, it was like a prayer uttered only for their ears. He had fallen fast and he had fallen hard for her, for her mind, her touch, her shine and her, just, her. Everything about her.

The fourth fall, the fourth fall was the best fall of all. The fourth fall was the fall she was saved from upon standing in front of Bash in front of the Archbishop of Reims, the fall where his arms wrapped around the white bodice of her dress and steadied her once more. Neither could remember the wedding, nor much of the celebration. All Sebastian could focus on was the girl who had fallen into his heart and all Y/N could focus on was the man whose heart had fallen completely for her.

#long may she reign #bash #sebastian de poitiers #sebastian de poitiers x reader

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plethora-of-imagines · 2 years ago

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Plethora's Pleasant-mas Advent Calendar: Day 12- Good Soup [Chapter 2]

Words: 2720

Warnings: Sick!Reader, descriptions of sick symptoms, night terrors, iv fluids, sedation, nudity, non-sexual intimacy

Shadows hovered and grew around your paralyzed form. It was unsettling to have creatures observing you. You couldn’t remember when you had been separated from the Doctor, or been captured. Body felt too heavy to move and you knew that you were in danger. Your only hope would be the Doctor swooping in to save you.

Several minutes passed with them watching you, none of you moving. The blinding darkness of one of them moved closer suddenly, stopping you from being able to see beyond the growing darkness. It was worse than when the Doctor had taken you to see a black hole in person. Darkness that grew and overtook any receptors in your eyes. No light, no wavelength could make its way to your wide eyes. Panic had overtaken you as your mind had assumed that never would you see again. Blinded by wonder of something so incredible yet terrifying that your mind had melted away into base reactions alone.

The shadowed creature reaching for you inspired a similar reaction but the awe you felt only held terror. The arms of dark shadows pressing against you. Managing the energy to fight back you thrashed against them. Pinning you down. The strength of the creature outweighed your own, only needing one arm to hold you in place. Messing with some sort of equipment on the side of the bed you were kept hostage on.

Head spinning as something foreign overtook your mind. Black spot overtaking your vision. It only encouraged you to continue your fight against them. You needed to escape, the Doctor wasn’t here. It was up to you to save yourself until she could save you. Teeth digging into the inky black form, enough to make them let you go in surprise. Stumbling out of the bed, the line connecting your arm to some sort of pole snatching. Not allowing you to flee with ease. Tugging at it you attempted to yank it from your arm, to free yourself from the unknown substance infecting you.

“Stop fighting!” The call of your name in a familiar voice disarmed you for a moment.

The black creature taking on a glow, the form of your Doctor. The moment hung suspended in time. Your body relaxing, no longer tense. No need to fight now, she was here. Reality only took a few moments to come crashing back to you. The haze of shadows surrounding the image of her gave you a clue that this was a trick. The creatures somehow knew that her image, this illusion, would make you complacent.

Fighting back even more viciously as reality swirled around you, your attempts to fight futile. Dragged by hundred of hands down into the nothingness that surrounded you. Tingling skin, as the darkness started to burn your senses.

The next time you knew the world once more you tried to rub the sleep from your eyes. A squeeze of your hand as it was pressed back down had you stopping. The crook of your arm was all achey. And the gentle pressure of another hand in yours was nice. Soft yet calloused skin from tinkering intertwined with yours.

You slowly recognized that the Doctor was next to you. Her coat draped over the blankets covering your legs. Leaving her in just her long undershirt and t-shirt on top. Muscles tense, well defined with how flexed they were. Ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

"Not going to argue with me this time?" She stares you down, looking into your very soul with stern eyes. "Going to finally listen to me and stay where I've put you for your own good."

The steady beeping and machinery slowly started to make sense to you. Sedated. With your inability to breathe and deteriorating condition, the Doctor had sedated you. Allowing for your body to catch up with fluids. Had you been fighting to leave bed in your sedated state?

Suddenly the Doctor was in your personal space. It was her's, if she wanted it. You weren't going to dare object to sharing the same air between the two of you. Her eyes were closed, stopping the moment from being overwhelmingly intimate. You could feel her hair brushing against your cheek with the little sway of your faces. Foreheads pressed together.

All too soon she pulled away.

"Temperature is much better. Think you might be on the mend soon."

Disappointment flooded you at the clinical explanation for the tender moment of contact between you.

“That’s good then,” you croaked out.

Your throat hurt now that you had tried to use it. Before you could process it a cup was held up to your lips. Greedily you took gulps of water before the cup was forced away. Coughing as some of the water tried to go down wrong.

“Oi! Small sips now.”

You took her warning to heart as you took small sips when the water was returned to you. She tipped the cup slowly to ensure that you couldn’t drink too much at once this time. Several minutes later you had finally finished the half a glass she allowed you.

“Now what?”

“Now, you rest.”

“But Doctor,” you whined. “I was just sleeping.”

The stern glare she sent your way had you backing down. Okay, guess you were going to rest more. The Doctor could be intimidating when she wanted to be. Already bored now that you didn’t feel that death was a better option for you, you stared up at the ceiling. Tracing patterns that weren’t there into the smooth, blank surface.

The subtle looks out of the corner of your eye showed that the Doctor had begun to busy herself with other things. It looked like she was reading some sort of guide for being sick. All you could imagine now was the Doctor curled up like this in her own room. Shoes off, as she curled up in a chair with her legs folded up beneath her. A book with the stereotypical yellow cover boasting “A guide to humans for dummies”, on it. Maybe you should see if a book like that really existed, it would help her a lot some days.

Hearing your stifled laughter, an eyebrow was raised in question at you. Silently asking you what was so funny. Shaking your head you dismissed her questions. Knowing that it wouldn’t be funny to her. Besides, keeping her curious was nice sometimes. Revenge for all the guessing she made you do. It might be petty, but you were sick. You were allowed to be petty.

Giving up on asking before she even truly attempted it, the Doctor turned back to her book. When she was sufficiently distracted you slowly creeped your hand closer and closer to the nightstand. Reaching into it you managed to grab your phone. Maybe you could watch a movie or something. Well, maybe not a movie. A game? The Doctor would probably not notice that.

“Hand it over,” she commanded with an outstretched hand. Not even looking in your direction.

How had she known?

With a grumble you surrendered it to her waiting palm.

“You can play on your phone in a couple hours. Right now it will only give you a headache again.”

Pouting even when you knew she was right you laid there dreadfully bored. Drifting in and out of focus, but refusing to sleep again on principle. The minutes dragged along, achingly slow. Ugh. This was a new form of hell. Maybe sleeping would be better just to make it pass sooner.

The loud slam shut of her book stole your attention back. Head snapping in her direction. Ow.

“New plan, quick shower first!”

“What?”

"You're too worked up to go to sleep, and so unwilling to try. So let's get you cleaned up and then you can sleep."

She was a hurricane of movement suddenly. Gathering whatever you could need for your shower. New cozy pjs, warm soft towels. Door opened that led to the shower, wandering in and around as she prepared for you.

Climbing slowly out of bed you managed to forget that the IV existed. It yanked you back into bed with a stumble as you failed to move away from the mattress. Hands rushed to steady you, the clanging of plastic bottles as they landed harshly on the floor just as startling as your body being yanked back.

“Careful there! Can’t have you knocked unconscious, that wouldn't be the rest you require.”

The Doctor’s fingers trailed across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Pressing down firmly against your wrist with unrelenting pressure. Heartbeat echoing against your joined skin.

“Little fast, wonder why,” she let her curiosity hang in the air between the two of you.

She didn't push, only waited to see if you would admit to her why your heart would be racing. Ignorante of her affect. Satisfied at least with how your heart wasn’t broken in some manner, she carefully drew the IV out of your arm.

It felt strange. You were more than thankful when it was finally over. Rushing away the Doctor gathered the fallen supplies before she made her way back to your side. It took you longer than it should have to realize that you needed to stand up to make your way to the bathroom. Leaning against her body for support as you hobbled over to the bathroom.

Legs heavy feeling. Attempting to drag you down to the floor. It was more exhausting that you had been anticipating. Unable to conceived of feeling this much weight in your entire body. To yourself you could finally admit that perhaps the Doctor had been right, you should be resting. Still you had gotten this far, been this stubborn. You didn’t dare give her ammunition to use against you now.

Only once she had helped you to remove them did you realize how uncomfortable your jeans had been. Neither of you had thought to take them off, forgetting that they were there to hinder your comfort. Too tired to be flustered even her hands brushing against your bare skin as she took off your shirt garnered almost no reaction from your body. It was intimate in a somehow innocent manner. Simply her helping you to get relief from the sinus pressure, fuzzy head, and general discontent from the state of your body.

The soft pattering of the shower head and the steam collecting to fog up the bathroom made the aches of your body fade into the background. Dozens of tissues were held to your nose for you to expel all of the snot that had taken residence. FInally able to breathe out of your nose. A happy sigh of relief left your open lips.

No shyness existed in you as the Doctor removed your bra and panties. The sickness had flushed it out of you along with your ability to feel any shame or embarrassment. Needing to lean on her as you stepped into the shower under the onslaught of water. TIghtly gripping her arm when your legs wavered. Abandoning you for a moment in order to shove off her suspenders and trousers, before joining you under the water.

Her shirt sticking to her undershirt, water causing it to cling to her skin. Didn’t seem to care one bit that she was soaked. Instead entirely focused on making sure that your hair was slowly washed, skin lathered, and that you were generally kept from falling to the floor beneath you. Once your hair was rinsed out, you couldn’t help but press your head against her chest. Ignoring the wet fabric now trying to cling to your face in favor of just enjoying when she held you. Fingers cascading through wet hair, attempting to hold onto wet skin that her fingers slipped from.

Humming little songs under her breath, almost hidden by the noise of the water. Letting you tire yourself out just from standing alone. The hot water feeling so wonderful against your tense muscles. Nimble fingers working through knots in your back as she let time pass without complaint. Without acknowledgement of how your body was starting to sink more and more into the ground, into her body- her gravity. Following her lead you allowed her to pull you from underneath the water. Towel secured around you as she quickly shed her sopping wet clothes.

Wetly flopping onto the tile where she tossed them. Discarding them as an issue for later. As if magically someone other than her would be able to take care of them. Now as naked as you were she turned her attention back to your shivering wet form. Gently rubbing your skin down until it was mostly dry, only slightly damp in some areas. It was a chore to pull on the underwear she had brought in for you. Noticing your struggles, the Doctor elected to finish helping you dress. Soft fuzzy fabrics encircled your rapidly deteriorating - in terms of wakefulness- body. The Doctor had to practically carry you back to bed. Without the scalding water, shivers racked your form. It was cold. You complained as much to her.

With an indulgent smile she climbed into your bed, keeping you in her arms. It was a struggle for her to grab her jacket to pull around your body as an additional layer to keep you warm. Mainly as you refused to let go of her. Shoving your face against her warm skin, lips pressed against her collarbone. Happily humming as she lifted the hood to cover your head. Layers upon layers of clothes and blankets overtop of you. Clinging to her with a feverous intensity as coughs began to wrack your body again. Warm and content you allowed yourself to stop fighting the sleep that threatened to drag you down.

In and out of awareness, as every time your mind surfaced with any form of clarity she was there. The comfort of knowing that she had stayed as your personal body pillow allowing you to relax and be pulled back under into the blissfulness of the dreaming world. No more terrors to attack your mind while the Doctor was watching over you. She would always protect you.

It wasn’t long for you until you finally emerged from the grasps of sleep to the gentle hum of the TARDIS. Lights still dim as candle light, creating a cozy environment in your room. It took you a few moments to realize that the light no longer hurt your eyes. You felt, well, still tired, but otherwise good. Healthy. No longer as dreadfully sick as before. It would probably be a few more days of you taking it easy before you were ready to venture outside of the TARDIS but you should be able to manage leaving your bedroom now. So long as the Doctor was willing to allow it.

“Am I considered well enough for a brief venture outside of this room? Please Doctor? Just the kitchen, I promise I won’t make anything too laborious.”

Looking down at you with eyes alight the Doctor smiled at you. Shuffling about as she attempted to free the two of you from the cocoon that you had both crafted together. Her hair was sticking up wildly. Unable to fully free herself before she crashed to the floor, covers still tangled around her legs. Now she was looking up at you as her face lit up with laughter at her own clumsiness.

Untangling herself as she spoke, “Alright. We can take a look around for something in the pantry.” Scooping you up into her arms again, “But I’m not allowing you to walk there yourself.”

Noses touching. So close to each other. You couldn’t help blurting out your feelings for her when this close, this overwhelmed with affection for how she lovingly took care of you when you were a sick mess. Who could resist confessing to her now? Maybe someone not still slightly sick who realized that it was not the most romantic of times.

“I love you,” you blurted out in a rush.

Somehow she managed to glow even more than before.

“I love you too,” no hesitation in her return of your love. “Now! Let's go get you some food. I could go for a nice toastie, myself.”

#13th doctor x reader #pleasantmas advent calendar

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