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valentinerose529 · 1 year

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The Ship That Sailed Through Time

A short story based on the prompt: a time traveler and an immortal make contact through the years.

I got inspired to write this after looking at a few too many port cities and old boats on a road trip. I wanted to capture the feeling of being disconnected from time and not being able to live in it, and whether you would chose to change that existence.

Fun fact, this story is an AU! Aiden and Ari are both original characters of mine with different backstories and skill sets than in this story, but have a similar motif of being from vastly different realms of life and connected across time.

Please do not repost!

i. portland, maine

Ariadne had always known the Turtledove, with its pearlescent sails and cherry-dark planks and figurehead carved into a lovely siren-woman. She had been born on this very deck and knew every inch of the ship by heart from the barnacle-encrusted hull to the crow’s nest on the highest mast.

She knew the crew by heart too, but had her favorites: Father, with his captain’s coat and salt-encrusted beard; Mother, the first mate, with her crumpled hat and salt-encrusted pistols; her grandfather’s first mate Lorri, who had graying hair and a tattoo that changed with the weather; Brandon and his matelot, who had both been on board since Ari had been too small to see over the railings; and the cook, Ladesha, who always slipped Ari some honey to temper the bitter ship coffee when her parents weren’t looking.

Ari had been the cabin girl for as long as she could remember. At first, she’d been too little to haul in the sails or climb up the rigging without getting blown around by the wind, but now she could help with all the regular ship duties and sometimes Father even let her steer the ship in calm weather.

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

The first time she met the boy, he was sorting crab traps on the dock. He was pale and smudgy enough that Ari first thought he was part of the dirty seafoam puddles, but a closer look proved him to be alive. He was a scrawny human with a mop of blond hair peeking out from the collar of his threadbare coat, and sat on the edge of the pier shivering from a recent dip in the ocean.

“Hi,” she told him, young and unafraid of strangers.

“Hi,” he agreed, deftly freeing a crab’s claws from the trap and tossing it into the bucket with a tinny thump.

“How old are you?” she asked, since she didn’t quite understand the land-living people yet.

He shrugged at her, making his sandy curls flop around. “Fifteen. And you?”

She didn’t know—nobody did on the ship—so she tossed out her favorite guess, “Nineteen. What are you gonna do with those?”

He tossed another crab into the bucket. “People will buy ‘em, of course. My boss owns the traps and pays me to swim out and fetch them.”

“Can I watch?”

“Why do you wanna watch this? It’s boring.”

“I live on a ship. Anything’s interesting.”

“When do you have to be back on your ship?”

“Not till evening, but Father won’t leave without me.”

He emptied the last trap and stood up, shaking the bucket to keep the crabs in. “Alright, I’ll show you something better. I watch out for the littler children on my block; they get up to all sorts of trouble. I bet you’ll like them.”

He led her deeper into the port city and introduced her to a gaggle of children in various sizes, a little one named Josiah and a willowy one named Grace and two named Edward, and the blond boy in the brown coat gave her no name at all so Ari had to call him, hey you.

They taught Ari to play hopscotch, and taught her how to fashion a spinning top out of a wooden spool, and the taller of the Edwards taught her how to steal a hot potato from the vendor on the street corner.

After the sun dipped down behind the buildings of the port city and the sky turned bruise-purple, Ari bid goodbye to her new friends. She committed all their names to heart, but the blond boy in the brown coat gave her no name at all. He smiled at her and said, “I’ll tell you when you come back to port.”

Ari smiled and hugged him, and ran away for the docks before she could say anything more. Because the truth of it was, she wouldn’t ever see him again in this time.

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

When Ari tromped back up the Turtledove’s gangplank, she found Mother negotiating passage with a harried-looking man in a suspiciously stained suit.

“We don’t know when we’ll arrive,” she warned the man. “Perhaps it’ll be tomorrow, perhaps two decades.”

“I don’t care,” the man said. “I just need to get away from Portland.”

Her mother nodded solemnly and discussed payment. Ari watched from the railing and thought the man was quite desperate, but her mother only charged him the regular rate.

(Adjusted for the decade’s inflation, of course.)

As the man and his stained sleeves disappeared below decks, her mother turned to Ari and said, “You should help your father so we can leave on time. Where have you been all day, my dear?”

“Oh, I made some new friends.”

“You didn’t tell them anything, did you?”

“Of course not,” Ari said, and slouched away to find her father.

Ari wasn’t allowed to tell strangers the truth of the Turtledove, not until she’d been on land longer and learned what her parents called discretion. She had never broken the rules, but her parents reminded her of it every time she stepped foot off the ship.

When she found her father directing the loading of the new cargo, he let her give the orders for stacking the cargo correctly, only speaking up to correct her if she made a mistake. All the crew knew that Ari was set to inherit the captain’s position when her father stepped down, a day she hoped would be far away in the future, so nobody protested her orders.

ii. chester, pennsylvania

The next time Ari met the boy, her hair had grown nearly to her waist and the world had changed. The ladies wore wide skirts and many men wore wigs, and the accents had changed just enough that Ari had to pause and think about every word a stranger said.

As she skipped down the gangplank, she felt the fishhooks of time catch at her skin and tangle in her unbraided hair, binding her to the rules of the land-living.

Ari’s job on shore was simple: have fun!

Oh, and there was some shopping for fresh food and new shoes for her and a coat for Brandon, but that wasn’t as important as exploring.

With her goals thus outlined, she wandered barefoot down the street, dodging carriages with the reckless invulnerability of a girl who had never before seen an angry horse.

And of course, like any carefree sailor not paying attention to the land traffic, she crashed into someone.

He stumbled and lost his footing—Ari planted her feet like she was onboard the storm-tossed ship—she caught the stranger and turned their fall into a weird spin.

“Thank you, miss,” he gasped, once they’d both recovered their balance.

“No, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she insisted, quickly letting go and stepping back.

He was short and spindly, blond hair wrestled into a tangled ponytail, and wearing a nice street suit that clashed with his threadbare coat. “Have we met before?” he asked.

“Oh, we couldn’t have. I’ve been sailing my whole life, and I’ve never been to this port before.”

“Your whole life? How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“That’s what you said last time, wasn’t it?” he asked thoughtfully.

A thrill ran through her. She knew it wasn’t possible, but he certainly reminded her of someone she had seen in the last port. “I don’t think there was a last time, sir.”

“No, no. I suppose not,” he said slowly. “My apologies, miss…?”

At first she thought he had simply trailed off, but then she realized that he wanted her name. So of course, she gave it to him. “Ari, Ariadne Laurens. And you, sir?”

He gave her an odd little smile. “Aiden Murphy,” he said, and Ari repeated it under her breath until she was sure she wouldn’t forget this strange man with the patched coat and pretty face.

“I suppose I’d better be going.”

“Of course. Have a good day, miss. Safe sailing for the Turtledove.”

It wasn’t until after he had vanished into the crowd that Ari realized she had never told him what ship she crewed on.

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

During the next four days in port, Ari all her free time on land. She wasn’t supposed to—she still had nightmares about running too far from the docks and coming back to find the Turtledove sailing away without her—but this time she wanted to pay attention to the land as much as possible. If she had met the man in the threadbare coat more than once, what’s to say there weren’t other familiar things in this port?

A thorough search of the city resulted in Ari knowing exactly how many bricks paved the thoroughfare by the seawalls and the latest exchange rate for foreign currencies, but not a single familiar face or even slang she could understand.

She couldn’t even find the man in the threadbare coat again, so she began to wonder if he was a dream. What had his name been?

“Aiden,” she remembered aloud.

“I beg your pardon?” someone said behind her, and she nearly startled herself off her seat on the pier.

As if she had summoned him out of the passing traffic with her voice, the man in the threadbare coat stood behind her with a confused expression. He looked completely unchanged—but of course, it’d only been a few days for the land-living.

“You are real!” she said, delighted. His expression deepened.

“I should hope I am, miss. Can I help you?”

“Yes… well, no, I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure out if we’ve met before. Before I ran into you ereyesterday, I mean.”

“If I may say so, miss, you remind me of someone I met many years ago. But as you say, you’re only nineteen, and it was…” he trailed off.

Ari didn’t want to know how many years ago it had been exactly, so she asked instead, “What if it had been me? What would you do? What would we do again?”

He shrugged. “I could teach you how to play hopscotch again.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “It is you! But shouldn’t you be much older?”

“I could ask you the same question, miss.”

“I’m not allowed to tell. Sorry.”

“No, I understand. We all keep our secrets.”

She nodded, and swung her feet below the pier. “You know, I never get to see anything inland. Is there anything interesting happening over there?”

He sat down on the top of the neighboring pillar a short distance away, close enough that she could still swing her foot in the waves and splash his ankles. “Well, up north in Concord, there’s a tree that sings.”

“Do they usually do that?”

“No, never! But I’ve seen it; the tree sings. Nothing I could understand, though. Some people even take the broken branches and make instruments out of them. The dead wood never sings again, but supposedly any music played on them makes crops grow sweeter than anything you’ve tasted before…”

──────◅▻♢◅▻──────

Ari bid Aiden goodbye that evening as the tide receded, feeling the gazes of her parents from the deck of the Turtledove. She wasn’t supposed to promise to see people again, because she might never see them again. But Ari had the sudden and selfish wish to hear more of his outlandish stories, so she leaned in and whispered, “I don’t know when we’ll arrive, but we’ll make port in Morehead City next. If you’re there, it’d be nice to see you again.”

He nodded. “I’ll try to make it there on time.”

She laughed, but couldn’t tell him why she found it funny, so she just skipped up the gangplank and waved goodbye from the railing.

iii. morehead city, north carolina

A score of years later, the Turtledove docked in Morehead City. To the crew’s surprise, there had been a sugar shortage in the city perhaps a year before they arrived, and their cargo of packed sugar and solid cane was suddenly worth a fortune.

After the sugar had been sold, Ari went for a walk onshore, hoping to find a familiar face. None turned up, so she returned to the ship in low spirits.

She found old Lorri on the dock, playing their flute for a man in a threadbare brown coat. “Ari,” they said when they saw her. “This gentleman came asking for you by name. Do you know him?”

Ari looked at the man, examining his sugar-brown face and seafoam-pale hair until she remembered his name. “Aiden!” she guessed delightedly. He broke into a smile.

“I thought you’d never arrive! You said you’d dock here next, but it’s been—”

Lorri shushed him loudly, gesturing with their flute. “Don’t tell us, lad; I don’t need to know how fast the land-living is.”

Aiden buttoned up his lips. Then he offered Ari his arm like a perfect gentleman. “Walk with me, miss?”

Ari did not invite him on board the ship, and he did not ask to come on. It went unspoken that one did not step on board the Turtledove unless you were willing to give up some time.

They found a place to sit away from the salty bustle of the docks, and Ari nearly screamed when all the street lamps turned on without a single lamplighter in sight.

Aiden laughed and gave her a lesson about the curious invention of electricity—lightning! Imprisoned in wires! Who could believe it? —and then they sat and talked until the moon was high and the wind came in cold from the water. When Ari started to shiver, Aiden quickly handed her his coat, so they sat closer together to stay warm and talked for even longer.

“Are you still nineteen?” he asked eventually.

“I think I’m a bit older,” she said, after trying and failing to figure out the math. She wasn’t land-living, so the time never passed the same. But of course she was older, if only by a little. “What about you?”

He laughed. “I’m definitely not fifteen anymore.”

“How old are you, then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Seventy-five, by my last count,” he said, and she made a surprised sound.

“That’s impossible.”

“Said you wouldn’t believe me, but it’s true.”

“How?”

“That’s my secret.”

“Alright,” she said, and subsided, because she’d promised before. “Tell me something else?”

Aiden scooted closer into the coat, taking her wrist and making her yelp at his chilly fingers, before he told her a story about sailors who tricked fairies and fishermen who ate hurricanes. She doubted it was true, but it whiled away the hours and at the end she forgot her original question.

Four days later, the Turtledove was loaded and ready to sail, but for the first time Ari wished the crew wasn’t quite so efficient. She stood with Aiden at the base of the gangplank, one foot resting against the plank as if she had stopped midstep.

“I’ll see you… later, I guess,” Aiden said, pulling up the collar of his coat against the wind.

Ari could only say, “Yeah,” and scuff her heavy boot against the dock. After a moment, she lifted her necklace off her head—a pretty one made of conch shells and blue waxed twine—and offered it to Aiden. “Here, why don’t you hold on to this? You can give it back to me in… Yarmouth.”

He examined it carefully before hanging it around his neck. “I’ll keep it safe,” he said solemnly—as if it were a far older treasure than a necklace only a hundred years old—and tucked it inside his collar. “Do you always arrive after the same amount of time has passed?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never paid attention before. But next time, why don’t you tell me when I arrive, and I’ll keep track of how much time passes?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I’ve never had a reason to want to know before.”

When Ari joined Father by the wheel, he gestured for her to take it. She eagerly grabbed it with both hands, but before she moved, she looked back at the port behind the ship. She could almost imagine time passing as she sailed away, people living and growing and dying and through it all a man in a shabby brown coat waving goodbye from the vacant dock.

Ari reminded herself that she wasn’t part of the land-living, gripping the wheel tighter and turning it firmly away from port.

iv. yarmouth, nova scotia

Many years and two ports later, the Turtledove sailed up the Canadian coastline to the bustling port of Yarmouth, which was filled with towering steamboats and slender canal rowboats. After they docked and unloaded the cargo, Lorri informed the captain that they wished to retire.

“Oh, must you go, Lorri?” Father cried. “We’ll miss you so much. You may never see us again.”

“I know, lad,” Lorri said, standing straight and solemn with their hat in their hands. “But I reckon I’ve spent enough life on the sea. I want to see the land—what’s left of it. Some of the old folks in my favorite pub have been telling stories of the logging and the railroads and everything that’s torn down. I think I have some great-great-grandnieces and nephews still alive, and I’d like to see some of the good parts of the land-living before it’s all gone.”

“I understand,” Father sighed, and subsided. “But is Canada really where you want to disboard? We could take you back over to the Spanish coast.”

“With respect, lad, I’d like to stay in this time,” Lorri said softly, and that settled it.

So the crew said their goodbyes, and Lorri packed their things and said goodbye to everyone once again, before wiping their eyes and striding resolutely down the gangplank.

Ari watched them leave, and then found a quiet corner on the pier to sit and have a good cry about her lost family member. They weren’t dead yet, but they could very well be by the next time they docked, and Ari wasn’t ready for this kind of mourning.

A figure appeared over her, a dark shadow against the sun that resolved into a skinny man with a mop of blond curls and a threadbare coat tossed over his shoulder.

“I had to learn French for you,” Aiden said, by way of greeting. He held out his hand, her necklace looped around his fingers. “Hallo, miss.”

“Hallo, Aiden. Has it been long?”

“Oh, not at all. At least, not for me.”

“It’s never a long time for me, either.” She twirled the end of her braid around her finger. “Lorri retired. The elderly sailor with the flute.”

Aiden nodded, but didn’t respond.

“So, there’s an opening on board, if you… like sailing.”

“If I find someone to be a good fit, I’ll let you know,” he said gently. Ari nodded, looking away from him. She had offered, and he had declined, so that was that.

She fidgeted with her necklace, lost on what to say. Long pauses were fine onboard the Turtledove, but the land-living were too impatient in such conversations. Aiden, however, didn’t seem to mind letting it stretch out until she found her words. “Lorri was like my family. They were the oldest crewmate of the Turtledove and it’s like… they were always there, never going to falter or get washed away. And now… I probably won’t ever see them again.”

“Probably not,” Aiden agreed, and her head snapped up to stare at him. He continued, “But you’ll always remember them. You’ve got a different way to look at the world, and I don’t think you forget things as easily, do you?”

She shook her head, and tried to take this to heart. She had a place deep in her heart for all her fondest memories about her old friend, and the crew would whistle Lorri’s favorite tunes for years to come. “Thanks,” she said. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “Because I’m amazing. Also, I’m very old and I’ve lost people before.” He rummaged in his pockets and held something out to her. “Here. Why don’t you hold onto this until you see me next?”

When she took it, she found it to be a round stone, once gray and roughly cut but worn smooth and shiny from years of rubbing. Her thumb fit perfectly into the depressed face.

“Isn’t it important to you?”

“So you’ll have to see me again to give it back,” he said, smiling. Ari returned the smile and tucked the worry stone into her pocket, realizing how quickly he’d lifted her mood.

“Whatever happened to those little pickpocketing magicians you met in Florida?” she asked, remembering one of his stories. He tossed an arm over her shoulders (no easy task when he was quite a bit shorter than she) and guided her down the dock to a little restaurant free of the smell of fishnets, chattering all the way about what those pickpockets had gotten up to in the decades since he had last been south to Florida.

v. alexandra, virginia

By the next voyage, Ari’s hair reached all the way down to her knees and her father let her call out the sailing orders sometimes. She and Aiden kept up the excuse of exchanging trinkets and favors and making the other return them in the next port. It kept them dancing around the real thing they wished to share with each other. Ari dreamed of taking Aiden with her on the open seas and never having to lose him to the passage of time, and he clearly wanted to take her along on his adventures instead of only recounting them to her during their short meetings in the years. But Ari had never again asked him to board the Turtledove, and leaving her beloved ship to join the land-living would surely take her away from Aiden in a few short decades.

So instead, they only treasured their moments together and eagerly looked forward to the next ones.

Today, there was a patter of running feet on the dock, and then someone climbed up the side of the ship. A widely grinning face surrounded by the hood of a threadbare coat appeared over the railing. “Hallo, miss!” Aiden said, leaning over just enough to knock his fist against Ari’s shoulder.

“Hallo, Aiden,” she said, instinctively brushing his pretty hair out of his eyes before remembering her manners and quickly pulling back her hand. Aiden hooked his feet into the net over the side of the ship and clung comfortably to the railing.

“How’s it been? Anything exciting, or sailing as usual?”

“Sailing as usual, of course. An ocean liner found us on the open seas this voyage, and tried to convince us to let them take the Turtledove to the nearest port. It took us ages to make the captain believe that we weren’t a replica from a port museum or a ghost ship. I think the captain only agreed because we wouldn’t let him onboard, and he had to hang in a lifeboat between the ships to talk to Father.”

“Why couldn’t he come onboard?”

This stopped Ari short. And suddenly she realized that she had never told Aiden about the magic of the Turtledove. They both pretended that being different from the rest of the land-living was perfectly normal and never again had asked each other to share their secrets.

She looked around. Nobody else was around; she had the sudden urge to break the rules for Aiden, just this once. You could never tell the secret of the Turtledove to anyone who wasn’t onboard the ship, but Aiden was almost onboard, wasn’t he?

So she said, in a low voice, “As long as you’re on board the Turtledove, you’re apart from the rest of the land-living. You don’t age, and you don’t die.”

“Really?” he said, in a tone that she knew meant he was extremely curious. “So that’s why you’re always the same. I thought… ah, nevermind.”

“Wait, what’d you think? You have to tell me now.”

“Oh, fine; I thought you were like me. But we clearly aren’t the same, so… yeah, nevermind.”

“What are you like?” she pressed. Having shared her secret, she wanted to know his.

He shrugged and nearly slipped off the railing. “I’m immortal, I guess. Unlike you, I do age; I just live longer than everyone else.”

Ari struggled to find a response; the magic of the Turtledove was familiar and expected, but the magic of Aiden was uncharted water to her. “What are the rules?”

“What?”

“You know; on the Turtledove, you can only enter and leave in a port for it to work right. If you exit at sea, all your years catch up to you at once and then you die. And it only changes time on board; I’ll start aging the moment I jump over the railing with you.”

Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know my rules, but I’ve never broken them yet. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“But you won’t know what the rules are until it’s too late,” she protested.

“Maybe I won’t. But I’m not going to go do stupid things trying to figure it out; that’d end badly.”

“Why, Aiden, you say that like you’ve never done stupid things.”

“But of course; only the most sensible plans for me! Certainly I’ve never tried to wrangle a dragon—did I ever tell you about the time out west when I found a dragon in a gold mine?”

“Well, let me get comfortable…” Ari dragged a crate over to the railing and perched primly on it, then gestured for Aiden to continue. He readjusted his grip on the railing to be able to gesticulate with one hand, and then launched into a tale that began with an utterly boring train ride across the Great Plains and took most of the evening to tell.

vi. a few years off the coast of ireland

Ari didn’t see Aiden in the next port, and so she couldn’t tell him to meet her in the one after that. She despaired privately that perhaps he had finally broken the rules of his immortality and fallen prey to land-living. Certainly times were changing, and few ports even had a place for the Turtledove to dock amongst the bulky ocean liners and streamlined electric motorboats.

And this was only the first change to a routine that had stretched across centuries, because one day her parents called her into the captain’s quarters for a discussion.

“Ari, I’m stepping down,” Father said. “I’ve been captain for long enough, and I think it’s your time now.”

“What? No, you can’t!” Ari said, voice thick in her throat. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, darling, we won’t leave,” Mother assured her. “We’ll sail with you for quite a while longer. But we agree it’s your turn to be captain. You know the world of the land-living better than we do, I think.”

“Only because of my—of Aiden, and I haven’t seen him in the last ports,” she protested.

“But you’re willing to pay attention to what’s beyond the ports,” Father pressed. “There’s less of the ocean than there was when I started sailing. You’ll need that knowledge, and your friends on land.”

Ari flung her arms around her father and said into his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Her mother took off her hat and put it on Ari’s head, and Ari imagined the weight that came with it settling onto her back. She’d been dreaming of this day for decades, but now she couldn’t even find her best friend to tell about it.

Had he broken his rules and paid the price for immortality? Or had he simply forgotten her and moved on like the rest of the land-living?

vii. trenton, new jersey

“Captain Ariadne?” someone said from behind her, his voice hesitating on her rank. Ari turned. A smudgy man in a threadbare coat stood on the gangplank, nervously twisting his fingers around and around his other wrist.

“Hallo, Aiden. How long has it been?”

“Long enough, Ari. Congratulations, I see you’re captain now?”

She shrugged. “Oh, am I? I wondered where the hat came from.”

“I think it’s dashing.”

She let the comfortable silence fall, and moved to walk down the gangplank. But before she joined him in the land-living, he said quickly, “So I guess that means you have an opening on board?”

Her heart sang. “Do you know someone who wants the position?”

“I don’t know the first thing about boats, but would you take me on?”

She could have picked him up and spun around the deck in her excitement, but reminded herself to be professional. “We don’t know when we’ll arrive,” she warned.

“That’s alright,” Aiden said, taking her hands. “I don’t care when we end up. It’s the journey I want.”

Fin.

#word count: 4833 #thank you for reading!#my writing #original fiction #val rambles #short story #oc: aiden #oc: ariadne #sailor au

3 notes · View notes

xoteajays · 1 year

Note

Okay! So.. I've recently rewatched High&Low: End Of Sky. Elly's really covered in tattoos, that was noticeable because his character was the one wearing tank tops and sleeveless shirts in this movie. So Elly and Anarchy are definitely covered in tattoos. I know about them so far.

And everyone's hair was freshly dyed too. Rocky's hair was more of a golden blond instead of silvery platinum blond, Cobra's hair was even dyed a slighty darker blond. Same with Takeshi's hair being way more darker than his honey blond hair. P's even brighter vibrant hair before.

I'll excuse Smoky's silvery blue gray hair. Just because they were only trying to make it seem like his hair changed since he was dying, from the toxic chemicals. So I will completely excuse Smoky from this.

My White/Green character. Her natural hair color would probably be a light brownish blonde. Similar to a gold honey color. But she just dyes her hair any colors she wants (platinum blonde, dark brown, colors).

The Daruma Family Base is a gambling business. And, the women, I'd have to be honest.. I don't really know what their job is. Since I've only ever seen them dance in the background. Like Club Heaven women.

That is definitely Hiroto's personality towards most people so that.. I'll never be surprised if he's like that with any friends, and even whoever he's attracted to. Since he is like that with Masaki. It's not surprising.

Hyuga's mean because he is very short compared to everyone else. But yes.. Depending on the type of girl he's in a relationship with, also depends on how his partner would act or react about this comments.

Murayama's a playful tease, not a mean tease like Hyuga would be.

And out of Rude Boys, I would have to say that P and Yu are the more giggly ones since they always giggle about everything. At least Yu is a character who's always like that. Not sure about Smoky and Takeshi.

Exactly! Gun-woo actually mentioned that to Woo-jin when they were eating at that buffet restaurant... That he worked multiple jobs just so he could provide for him and his mother. This sweet boy! And that did include working in restaurants, especially barbeque restaurants too.

And Jin seems the most knowledgeable about meals containing a lot of noodles. Like ramen. Or is it ramyeon? Since Korean says that very differently than other Asian countries. But he cooks so many cuisines with noodles. But, besides that, he really does seem to restaurants or order take out a lot. Based on what we know of his backstory though.

That was my original intention for my romantic ships in Bloodhounds, for any stories for Bloodhounds. Unless, I actually decide to make one more character so they both could be with someone. But I'm selfish.

Yes.. If Gun-woo did train during Woo-jin's healing time then he might have only did basic training, at least until Woo-jin was able to start his training with Gun-woo. But now those boys could also fight men who are three, maybe four, times their size. Including men like In-beom.

Who knows? The show is starting. You will probably learn more about other characters, only if you want to learn about any other characters though. But.. Hopefully the show continues to be a good series too.

See! Yes. I didn't want to say anything. Not that I would spoil you with details like that.. But the chaos does happen after the car accident. I'd have to say Kuryu has to take notes on real hit and run car accidents - because they don't know how to do that right. They know want to do.

Obviously! This is Vincenzo. And this is Jung-ki as Vincenzo. He's just too attractive. When I'm attracted to older men, Jung-ki is that man.

I'm attracted to Asian men.

But yes. Vincenzo quits smoking by the end of the first episode so it's not like you would see him smoking. But, the teenagers, he just beats them anytime he sees any of them attempting to smoke around him.

i’m have a bit more of an appreciation for ice/elly. he’s kinda hot tho. blame the exile videos.

everyone dyed their hair before fighting ranmaru and kuryu gotta look their best ahdhdkfkdl

except smokey. who is horribly dying … :(

hiroto’s like. a lil mean and huffy and pretends often that people annoy him even when he actually likes them. gotta break through that facade to get to the gooey endeared center. god no wonder shizuka likes him, he’s like yui.

hyuga’s the kinda guy to laugh even when his shy gf is pouting and embarrassed. he’s like ‘i’m kidding - i’m kidding!’ but his girl is still upset about it and calls him mean. it doesn’t faze him.

pi and yu would be giggly about it. takeshi’s a little more serious, helps her to her feet, makes sure she’s okay, but he’s still clearly pretty amused.

gun always gets stuck cooking the meat when he and jin go out - not that he seems to mind, but still. he’s always manning that grill. that scene with the trio going to lunch was funny. jin and gun bickering because nobody turned the grill on before gun got back, jin jumping in to tell ju that gun’s an excellent cook and not to tell him when to flip the meat.

jin seems the type to eat a lot of those ramyeon/tteokbokki/rabokki cup things. or he just goes to that spicy pork place a lot. he can cook noodles on a stove but not much else. just basic things. boil eggs, stick noodles in pot. nothing complicated or too difficult.

yea i can see gun only doing basic training since he probably spent most of his time in the hospital with jin, probably worrying that myeong gil’s men might come back and try to finish the job. then jin gets better and they’re somewhere safe and gun goes hard into training.

episode 2! also good! entirely based in the main plot. the cop is pretending to be ha joon’s character’s dead best friend’s cousin and just got hired into the gang. also! the cop’s wife! who is a detective! is ha joon’s character’s childhood friend and first love!! i fucking knew it! i had a hunch from ep1! this man is going to fuck your wife!

i’m only halfway through ep4 because it was getting too close to midnight and i was tired after a crummy night (stepped on a screw in my backyard and got it stuck in my foot, mum laughed at me because only i could find the one random screw in the grass in our whole backyard the one time i go outside. touching grass is dangerous), but the building people are all. so annoying??? like yall are so needy and flipfloppy and kinda rude??? this man just got out of hospital after getting slammed by a truck and you’re accosting him??? can he rest???? fuck off??!? i think they’re the reason i stopped watching the first time because they irritated me.

#tj answers #long post //#long post anon

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aceofstars16 · 6 years

Note

3, 6, 10, 17, 25

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

Oooo man this is hard…cause I have some very fond memories in the Rebels fandom, but there were certainly people in it that I didn’t…interact with much…so I’m gonna have to go with The Silver Eye, everyone is so nice and we are all silly too, it’s great!

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY FANDOMS I’M IN?!?!? *flops* I’m just gonna list the OTPs I can think of…

Percabeth (Percy Jackson), Hicstrid (HTTYD), Peter and Elizabeth Burke (White Collar), Pepperony (Mavel), Plance (Voltron), Finnrey, Sabezra, and Kanera (Star Wars cause I can’t pick just one), Kainder (The Lunar Chronicles), Runo (The Silver Eye), Elate (Uncharted), New Dream (Tangled), I know I’m forgetting some tbh…xD

10. Is there a fandom you read fic from but don’t write in?

So…I don’t actually read a lot of fanfiction to begin with? So…I don’t really think so? I’ve read a few PJO fanfics and I have yet to successfully write anything for the fandom so…I guess that one?

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favorite?

I’m 99% sure it was Percabeth and yes I still adore them (and ignore whatever Rick is doing in their world thank you very much they are happy and have kids and don’t deal with crap anymore!)

25. What’s your most popular fanfic?

Well, according to Ao3, that would be “To Find a Home” but if it’s a one-shot then “Vine Worthy” is very popular??? xD

#i love addiford but it's not...canon...and starla is pure and melody and soos too #but gf is all about the family and friendships soooo yeah...xD #kanera was my fave star wars ship but then...i wasn't happy with how they were handled in season 4...hnnng #a message from fulcrum #so many of my ships are with a brown/dark haired boy and a blonde girl #I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENS IT JUST DOES *flops*#mandaloriandragontrainer #i just thought that maybe not all of those ships are otps but i kind of adore them so.....*rolls away*#like if i see fanart of them i get VERY happy!

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klbwriting · 3 years

Text

Pirate’s Heart - Chapter 1

Perfect Color, or Not

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Warning: so this chapter is pretty dark, Kaz’s backstory is dark and there is suggestion of sexual assault but it is not described

Song: Perfect Color - Safety Suit

Taglist: @sixofshadowandbone @thedelusionreaderbitch @itsemy01 @angelicdanvers @marinettepotterandplagg @screen-to-stage @aysegust @sagewrites111 @lilyoflower @hey-peeps @starjane312 @spawn0fsatan @myalupinblack

Yellow nice to meet you

Do you know that you just blue my mind?

It was the perfect conversation, I think that I red about one time

And I told a white lie when I told you, I've never been green with envy you

You are the perfect color

The song would not get out of Y/N's head and she hated it. Pekka sang it to her about her tail all the time. And she hated Pekka Rollins. Well hated him as much as she could without a heart. Why was she thinking so much anyway? Wasn't she sleeping? Why was she moving and why did she hear voices? She groaned, eyes slowly opening to see two teenage girls standing above her. They were gazing at her with curious eyes and she tried to wipe her own eyes, only to find her wrists were tied to the table she was laying on.

"She's awake Nina," she said a girl with bronze skin and dark hair.

"I can see that Inej," the other girl, creamy white skin with brown hair and freckles. Nina was light eyed while Inej had dark eyes, and both girls were fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. How long had she been asleep? It couldn't have been that long, she didn't feel any older. She turned her head, finding a mirror on a table nearby and seeing that she didn't look older, only dirty.

"Where am I?" she asked. She knew she was on a boat, she could feel the sea moving them, but how did she get there? She was in the jungle before, bleeding, stabbed where her heart should have been.

“You’re on the Menagerie,” the one called Nina said. Inej tried to shush her and Y/N could hear footsteps nearby.

“What have you girls brought me?” a beautiful blond woman asked, entering the room. She was dressed in fine silks with an intricate peacock feather tattoo on her face, making her look almost like an animal herself. Y/N felt a very strange pang of fear, dulled by her lack of heart, but she felt it enough to worry about this woman.

“Tante Heleen, we found her in the jungle when we were hunting,” Inej explained, her eyes downcast. Y/N was fast learning that this woman was not to be trifled with, but she didn’t care. She wanted out of these bindings and she would do what she needed to survive.

“My, my, she is filthy, we will have to clean her up, get me the sponge and some water,” she demanded. Nina did as asked, and Heleen started to clean her face. “Not particularly special in the face, homely and plain. Face too round for most men…eyes are dark but not special, lips are too pale will need color,” the woman continued, cleaning down her body and commenting on everything. Breasts were too small, stomach too round, hips too wide, legs… She stopped at her legs, staring in shock as the bright scales that still dotted her thighs. They were remnants of her tail in case she ever got it back. Heleen demanded Inej get a message out at the port for the commander, they had something special for him.

“What is it Tante?” Inej asked. The look Heleen sent her made Inej run. Y/N was becoming very aware of how this ship worked. Heleen was a captain of some kind of pleasure vessel and all these poor young girls were stuck here attending to the men who paid for them. Y/N was disgusted, and she could see from the look on the woman’s face that she was going to be the centerpiece of some kind of show for this commander. Like hell she would have another man touch her without her permission. Y/N looked around the room and realized she would need to wait for her time to arrive. She started to pretend to be scared, her acting not very good, it had been a long time since she’d been around anyone and Heleen saw right through it.

“O now, I see, you’re fearless are you?” she asked, a snake like smile on her face. “Well, let’s get you dressed and shackled. The commander will want us to report back to Argoes immediately.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed. Like hell she was going anywhere near Argoes, not when Pekka was going to probably be there. She would bide her time, wait for a moment to strike. Y/N may have been a lovestruck mermaid but she was also a rare tail, trained to defend herself. She knew things were different with legs but her upper body defensive maneuvers should be the same.

Heleen had her hands shackled and took her to a room full of clothes, dresses in bright colors, silk, and lace. Nina had followed, listening as the captain listed items for her to retrieve. While they were distracted by clothes Y/N slid a hat pin into her hand, starting to work the cuffs. Humans learned many things about mermaids and nearly none of them were true. The idea that they were stupid, unable to function at the same level mentally as humans, they were underestimating Y/N right now and she was pleased.

The child, Nina approached her, getting her dressed. Y/N saw the girl look at the hat pin, saw the shackles were no longer together and instead of outing her the girl said nothing. Y/N smiled, she would let the girl live whenever she killed Heleen. She wasn’t a monster, at least, she didn’t think she was. Heartless or not she wasn’t going to kill a child who was clearly being used by adults for terrible things.

“Let me cut this string…” Nina said, moving to a dressing table and taking a pair of scissors and moving back to Y/N. She cut a pretend string and slid the scissors into the sleeve of the dress she wore. Their eyes met and an understanding crossed between them. Y/N would kill Heleen, take this ship, and then she would take care of these children. No more powerful men were going to use these babies for their own pleasure again.

Heleen took her above, walked her to the side of the ship. Y/N looked around, all the crew, everyone, was a child except for one man who seemed to be the muscle on this craft. All young girls of various ages, some as young as 7. Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as she looked in the eyes of some of them, their eyes were much older than they should have been. She looked at Nina and motioned for her to fall back a little bit. Nina took two steps back and sat down on the deck. Heleen turned to face the mermaid as she stood, pointing to the island in the distance.

“Now, when we arrive at Argoes…” she didn’t finish her statement. Y/N sunk the scissors into Heleen’s eye, digging in as deep as she could. She pulled them back out, feeling the blood on her face but not letting the warmth distract her. As soon she killed Heleen the man came storming over, lumbering a large. Good. Y/N ducked down, sliding under him and kicking out her leg. He ran into it, nearly snapping it in half as he faltered, trying to balance. For a moment she thought he would regain his footing and come for her but then Inej and Nina came out of nowhere and pushed him, sending him toppling over the side of the ship and into the sea. Y/N stood up, rubbing her knee as she leaned to the rail of the ship.

“Well, I’m sorry you had to see that…” she started. Nina and Inej just shrugged and the rest of the girls on the ship looked at her. She felt her soul ache for these children and realized maybe her soul could harness strong emotions, but it still didn’t feel completely real, still dulled by her lack of heart. O well, she would protect these children, make them into a force a nature, show the world that they were more than just a body to warm a bed.

“Come on, let’s push her over,” Inej said so some of the older girls, moving to Heleen’s body. Y/N held out an arm.

“No, you are children, you shouldn’t be disposing of dead bodies, you shouldn’t even be touching them,” she said. “Get the ship ready, we are sailing for any port except Argoes.” She struggled but finally tossed Heleen’s body to the sea. Turning she sought out Inej.

“Inej love, did you send that message like Heleen asked?” Y/N asked, gently touching the girl’s face. Inej shook her head. “Good. Now, you and Nina are my first mates alright? So, where have you always wanted to go?”

Kaz Rietveld didn’t know how long he had been on that boat in the middle of the ocean. He didn’t know what day it was, what time, all he knew was that he was starving and so very thirsty. Sitting in all this water was making it worse. He had tried seawater, even knowing that it would do nothing but make him sick, but he had been desperate. God, is this how he died? 15 years old and in the middle of the cursed ocean. Fucking hell. He should have just let his uncle know he was alive when he had the chance, but instead he had hid, never wanting to go back to that horrid fortress. But instead, he was just going to die here. O well, what really was his life worth anyway, crippled leg from a botched escape with his brother when he was 11 and now, well now he was broken entirely. He knew that the moment they got on that boat, but he had gone anyway.

He was laying down, ready to die, when the water moved, waves hitting the boat harder than before. He sat up and looked seeing a pirate vessel flying the black colors approaching. He knew this was his only chance. Kaz could die in this boat or he could try his best at getting on that boat. He waved his arms, screaming at the top of his voice. He thought they were just going to pass but then a rope ladder was dropped down the side as they pulled up next to him. He scrambled up the ladder and dropped on the deck, panting.

“Water…please…” he begged. The men around him smiled, looking like they had found a present. One of the men handed him a cup and he drank before spitting out the burning drink. Whiskey, not water. The pirates laughed at him and he saw a few cabin boys standing by, looking fearful of him. No, not of him, for him. Kaz realized that he may have escaped one prison and wound up in another. The spirit of the sea witches clearly wanted revenge on his entire family. Taking his parents before he could remember them wasn’t enough, claiming his brother wasn’t enough, now he was stuck here. Fine. If the sea wanted a war, he would give it one.

For the first six months of his time aboard the Crow he was a cabin boy, but just in name. Truly he was whatever the other men wanted him to be. He was relieved when they brought aboard women for a week or two when he could just be a normal cabin boy. Unless the women liked him too. He noticed the two other cabin boys clung to each other, Jesper and Wylan, keeping each other as safe as they could. One of the crew, an honorable ex-navy captain named Matthias also tried his best to protect them. He often would give sleeping drafts to the crew to give the boys a night to themselves, but even he could only do so much.

Kaz waited, biding his time until the captain himself wanted a visit. Then he put the plan he had with Jesper, Wylan, and Matthias into action.

Matthias put the poison in the crews dinner, which they ate at 6PM before moving to do night work on the vessel. They were all dead before 6:30. The captain ate his dinner at 7PM so Wylan stayed in his cabin, distracting him by being a bumbling fool and getting a severe punishment for it. Kaz would have felt bad but he didn’t know if he was capable of feeless anymore. Jesper brought dinner to the captain and helped a bloody Wylan out of the cabin. Kaz slid in as they left and stood, watching the captain as he ate his meal.

“Come here boy, I want a better look at you, want to see what all the fuss among the crew is about,” he said. Kaz swallowed the sick in his throat and approached, letting the captain touch him, roughly feeling his hands on him. Then the coughing started and Kaz let out a breath of relief. The captain clutched his throat as his airways closed and soon he was dead at Kaz’s feet.

With the help of the others Kaz had the crew overboard and they headed towards a port far from Argoes to gather a new crew using the money the captain had stashed in a vault in his office. The four of them argued over who would be captain but Kaz won out, being the only one truly willing to kill for the title. He decided that as soon as he got to port it was time to reinvent himself. Kaz Rietveld was no more. It was time to take a new name and become something else.

#six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kazbrekker #kaz brekker #kaz #pirates heart series #pirate kaz brekker

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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hrwinter · 4 years

Photo

You’re not sure what you remember about home. If you try, it might be blue skies and warm summer rain that you played in for hours. It might be your mother washing the mud out of your clothes, frowning and asking if it was really necessary for you to roll that completely in the dirt. You told her you were just doing what the dog did.

You had a dog, right?

You’re not really sure.

Because the other memories you have are not blue and green and the dirt brown of your knobby childhood knees. They’re grey and orange and crispy charcoal black. The market you visited where your parents would sometimes have hushed meetings behind shaky hands, it’s rubble. The wind that used to blow the fragrance of fresh peaches and citrus, it’s ash. The home you had is gone.

You remember a voyage, long, dark, and ripe with a putrid accumulation of smells. You remember getting to see the water a few times, opal blue and ever shifting. It was beautiful. But the ship crashed or was attacked, you don’t know, and then it was back to the oranges of fire, the reds of blood, and the screams of your parents you’d never find.

You washed up on shore alone.

Although, not quite alone.

That’s when you first saw her. The crow. You’re sure of that. She’d been there, pecking at the sand near your arm, the same one still clutching the cheap large plastic debris. It had saved your life. You looked over the edge of it, coughing salt water into the surf, and you saw her.

It was weird. She’d surprised you. You’d never seen a bird so big and black, you thought, and she shuffled from foot to foot, nervous. Was she hungry? Was she scared?

You don’t get a chance to find out before a man with large hands is swatting her away. She cawed angrily, reluctant to go, but she did, maybe to a nearby tree. He shook your shoulders then and asked you who you were.

“Kara,” your voice came out in a croak, not yours.

“Kara,” he says again.

The crow cawed.

It’s years before you put the patchwork pieces of your life back together, that you find out what happened to you. That a warmongering company, LuthorCorp, helped exacerbate the tensions in your region then exploited and profited from them by selling both sides weapons. But that doesn’t become relevant for a long time. For now, you’re an immigrant, and an immigrant is not a very good thing in this new country.

It could be worse. There are other kids who are not as lucky as you. Somehow having never set foot here, you have dual citizenship. Your mother was American. So, despite the government calling your parents insurgents and traitors, they don’t try to deport you. Or keep you locked in a cage. Instead, they put you in foster care.

It’s hard. It’s toiling. It takes you a long while to learn the language. You’re shy to talk because of it.

And you’re pretty. At least, people keep telling you that you are. You’re not sure what you see when you look in the mirror. The kind, clever blue eyes of your mother. The hard line of your father’s brow when he’d reprimand you for sneaking too many cookies.

But your prettiness doesn’t feel like a good thing. The other children resent you for it. And it brings you a different kind of attention, a kind that has you cowering from your foster mom’s drunk boyfriend, a kind that has your crow swooping in and attempting to peck out his eyes. She almost manages it, but when he swings, taking hold of her, you jump into the fray, too. You would’ve killed him if your foster mother hadn’t intervened.

That’s right, your crow has followed you here, has followed you through it all. She’s in the tree outside of the window when your foster mother returns you to the group facility for being ‘cruel and violent.’

You didn’t do anything. At least, you didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do again, a hundred times over.

“We’re better off here, anyway,” you tell the crow sitting with you during lunch recess.

“Why do you talk to that thing?” a boy asks you nearby, trapping a soccer ball with his foot.

“She’s my friend.”

“Friends can’t be birds.”

Yes, they can, you think.

“She doesn’t understand you,” he feels the need to add, certain.

But she does. You know she does.

---

You’re adopted into a new home not long after that. It’s different than the others. They’re called ‘Danvers.’ Eliza and Jeremiah, your adoptive parents, they’re kind and intelligent. They encourage your natural abilities in science and math. You’re starting to get A’s for the first time in your life, and you’re less reluctant to speak in class.

You still feel like an impostor. It doesn’t seem like a reality that’s meant for you. You were meant for the bottom of the sea.

“You have a right to be here,” Eliza tells you, but that’s not how your new sister acts.

Your crow has somehow inferred the antagonism between you. One afternoon she swoops in to steal a large portion of Alex’s sandwich and drops it on your plate.

“Hey!” Alex shouts after her, but the crow merely glares at her with dark black eyes, wings ruffling on your side of the picnic table.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Alex looks between two of you, wary, parsing.

“How did you train it to do that, anyway?”

“…patience?” you improvise.

“You’re lying.”

The crow caws loudly, and Alex narrows her eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going inside.”

The crow watches her leave, and you soothe her ruffled feathers with a hand. The sheen of them always makes them seem oily, but they’re not at all. Her feathers are soft, and she preens a little under the touch. You gives her a nickel to play with. Maybe you’ll actually try to train her.

So, you make her puzzles. She seems somewhat competent in checkers. You read to her. Her favorite stories are fairy tales. Her favorite foods are unsalted peanuts, boiled eggs, shell and all. She likes apples too (you painstakingly removes the seeds, they’re bad for birds.) You feed her from the window. She sleeps in the tree there and follows you to school and back every single day. She watches you organize quarters for a state collection, nipping slightly at the plastic casing.

“I already gave you Iowa,” you tell her.

She clicks her beak back at you. Sometimes, she’ll steal your keys. You think she just likes things that you like, but you’re not sure. Alex says you’re projecting. Alex says you make up things that aren’t there, but honestly, Alex is a little mean.

Once on a fishing trip, the crow used bread to catch a fish, laying it before you all on the thick wood pier planks.

“That bird is smart,” Eliza comments, watching her chase away a hawk that seems a little too interested in the fish.

You’re proud. She’s fearless.

“Their brains are bigger than ours proportionally,” you reply with enthusiasm. You look to Alex. “See.”

“Her brain is bigger than yours,” Alex mumbles over her empty fishing line, and the crow dives down to nip at her.

“Hey!” Alex swats without making contact. The crow flies away again. “That crow doesn’t like me, I swear. She knows me.”

“Of course she does.”

“It’s meaner to me.”

“She’s a she, not an it,” you correct her.

“It’s not normal.”

“It’s perfectly normal for a crow,” you bicker with Alex. “They don't forget a face. They hold a grudge.”

“You sound like the Discovery Channel.”

“Well, it’s true. Did you know that they also mourn the dead? That they don’t migrate, staying in one place for most of their life?”

“So, you’re saying we’ll never get rid of it? Great.”

“She,” you correct her again testily. “And they can live to be 15 years old. So, yeah, you’re stuck.”

Alex quiets, and you’re thrilled to have won the argument.

But deep down inside, you’re willing to admit it’s a little weird, she’s a little weird. Crows are supposed to be social, and you’ve never seen her with any other crow. She only talks to you. She only follows you.

It would be crazy to think she wasn’t quite a crow, but something else, something more. Wouldn’t it? But you kind of do. You don’t admit it to anyone, but you do.

---

Graduation from high school is close, only days away. You’ve arranged everything for college, although not without a hulking amount of help from Eliza. She organized all of your scholarship forms, your applications, your dozens of essays. She kept you on track with projects and midterms and extracurriculars (you’re the captain of the Geology club, who knew!) And it’s all materialized into your acceptance at National City University. It’s only a couple of hours from Midvale, and you can’t wait for August.

Sometimes it’s crazy to think you’re going to college. A blonde, blue eyed girl who washed up on the beach one day like a sand dollar? You would’ve never put your money on her.

But here you are, walking a beach not that far from the one you arrived on, a big slate blue sky in front of you, wind whipping your hair. You think about the future; the new city, the potluck roommate, eighteen hours of classes in biomedical engineering.

“You’ll come with me to college, right?” you say to the crow perched on your shoulder, bobbing with every step you take.

The crow softly caws and nuzzles its head on your shoulder. It’s a rare form of her affection. Otherwise, her eyes are focused on the little crabs skittering in and out of the waves.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” you reach to bring the crow to your hand, her pointed claws clinging gracefully to two of your fingers. She looks back at you expectant and listening, canting her head to the side every now and again.

“We’ve never really talked about it,” you say as if it’s typical to apologize for conversations you haven’t had with your crow. “But you’ve always been there. You protected me.”

The crow flaps her wings a little. Is it pride? Joy?

“Thank you.”

You’re not sure what overtakes you then, but you do something you’ve never done before. Despite the fact that you’ve seen her roll around in ant piles, you lean forward and plant a little kiss on her feathered head.

Immediately, you know something has changed, that something is different. There’s a shimmer in the air in front of you, prismatic in color, and the crow flies away from you, landing, staggering in the sand. You chase after, but a crisp gust of wind blows sand into your eyes and you wobble, falling. When you scramble to your feet again, blinking and rubbing the grit out of your eyes, you don’t see your crow, but a girl with eyes as green as spring leaves, with hair as black as crow.

“You’re her,” you say as she sits up, looking confused, one armed draped across her middle.

“Yes,” the girl answers simply, shaping the word as if unfamiliar.

“You’re naked,” you announce.

“Yes.”

You strip your light jacket off, suddenly rushing to cover her. You rub her shoulders and she looks at you in that same, too intelligent way.

It is her.

You have no idea know what to say next. You just watched a bird transform into a human. It’s not real. You made it up. Maybe you passed out. You did eat a lot of cinnamon rolls right before this. You pinch yourself, but you don’t wake up. You’re still here on the windy beach, clutching a familiar creature in your arms.

In a panic, you fall back on the very first English you learned.

“I’m Kara,” you say. She sort of smiles as if that’s obvious. “What’s your name?”

She looks away, thinks hard. She has a strong jaw. Her skin is too white, like it’s never seen sun. Maybe not under the feathers? God, you think you’re going crazy.

“Lena.”

“Do you have parents, Lena?”

It’s a ridiculous question. She’s been with you for eleven years. But it’s a ridiculous situation.

“I—don’t remember. But I guess I do,” she says thoughtfully. Her voice has a raspy quality to it, not unlike her caw. “They probably think I’m dead.”

“What happened to you?”

She shakes her head again.

“I don’t remember,” then, “a curse, maybe. On my father. A woman came to our house that night. ‘A payment taken of your most prized possession’, she said. Something about an enemy loved.”

“A curse,” you repeat back. It makes sense. Even if nothing about this makes sense.

You shake your head, focusing on what’s important.

“Don’t worry,” you take her hand. Her palm is butter smooth. “Let’s go home.”

#supercorp #fanfic #supergirl au #crow au #i don't know #i literally don't #this was in my drafts for six months and i finally was like fuck it i'm finishing #i havent written 2nd POV in like one hundred years

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bear--maiden · 2 years

Text

Always - Chapter 1

Chapter Warning: S4, Swearing - That's it I think for this one.

----

Hi guys just wanted to say hi and hope you guys like this. This is my first attempt at Steve and nearly finished chapter 2 so if you guys like this let me know and I'll post more!

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Lana sat in her truck staring at the outside of Family Video with her hands seemingly stuck to the steering wheel. She had been sitting there for around ten minutes, every minute that went by secretly hoping that Steve would leave and go home but no, there he was, still on shift. She could see his stupidly perfect hair - despite the heat - through the window.

"Yeah sure Dustin I'll pick up the movies for tonight don't worry" Lana says sarcastically as she berates herself for the offer of picking up movies for her and Dustin's monthly movie night thinking that Steve would not be working as he never worked Fridays.

Dustin was like a little brother to her and she had a protective instinct towards him ever since she'd moved to Hawkins for her senior year, when she saw him and the others being bullied and stood in making the other boys run off and cry, and Dustin instantly developed a crush on the cool, older girl, luckily it went away, well almost. He loved her like a sister now and besides he had his Suzie to dote on now. But Dustin was so glad that Lana had moved to Hawkins.

Well, moved, more like...shipped away.

Her mother had gotten sick of her attitude and behavior and sent her to live with her Father Jim Hopper for her last year of high school hoping it would teach her a lesson.

It did.

She had hated him at first, after leaving her before she was even born, but that was her mother's fault. Hop had wanted to be in her life but her mother kept him away, eventually he gave up the fight and resorted to presents and cards for birthdays - which he never missed.. After a few rough months in which Lana did everything she could to escape Hawkins and go back to her home (including getting arrested several times by Callahan), the pair became inseparable, they were best friends. They stayed up late to talk and laugh as they looked out into the water by the cabin and she shared everything with him, he definitely made up for the lost years.

And now, he was gone.

El, who became her adopted sister, was with Joyce.

And Steve.

Well Steve is a long ass story.

Lana's palms had started to become sweaty from being stuck to the wheel, she looked at her watch and saw she only had limited time before she had to go pick the guys up from Hellfire. She looked at herself in the mirror fixing her dark brown hair, she could look worse she supposed, so she took a deep breath through her nose, held it and released sharply through her mouth "Fuck it". She unclipped her seat belt and opened the truck door, her black vans hitting the ground as she willed herself into the film store.

On opening the door she saw a blonde girl twirling her hair round her fingers at Steve as he showed her different movies, clearly not listening to a word he's saying. She internally rolls her eyes, wondering how many girls do this to him a day.

Looking to the counter she sees Robin giving her a knowing look and Lana makes her way over giving her a nice middle finger.

"I thought you wanted to avoid him like the plague?" Robin asked after quoting Lana.

"Yeah well it's Friday, why the hell is he here?"

Robin chuckles "He's covering a shift, what are you here for if not to rekindle a flame?"

"Trust me that flame is well and truly snuffed out and never should have been lit in the first place" She takes a breath trying to fade out the giggling from the girl talking to Steve "Anyways, I'm actually here to get movies for me and Dustin"

Steve walks over to Robin’s side of the counter folding a small piece of paper in his hand and placing it in his pocket before waving to the girl he was just speaking to as she leaves the shop blushing.

"Wow, finally a phone number"

"Robin shut up, i-i get plenty, in fact I have a date tonight so shove it" Steve states as he looks at Lana as she pretends to pick at a scratch on the counter top. "Hey Hopper, how's it going? Come to ruin someone else's life?" He asks bitterly, leaning his forearms on the counter.

"Fuck you Harrington I-i" Lana panics and in her angry state of mind says the first thing that comes to her brain "I-i have a date too"

"Oh really?" Steve bites back.

"Yeah I do"

Steve leans across the counter "Then how come Henderson told me you had a movie night tonight?" He raises his eyebrows in the way she hates, like he knows she is lying.

"I did, he uh, had to bail last minute cus of some reason with his Mom, y-you know how she is,so uh this guy had asked me earlier this week and I uh, obviously said no because of my previous uh , plans, but anyway I changed plans obviously so I uh, asked him, not that is any of your business" Lana lies terribly and tries to move subject as quickly as possible, whilst she notices Robin's confused and pained expression and Lana smiles at her secretly asking her to help with her eyes.

"Really then why are you here? At the movie store? If you're not getting movies?" Steve keeps pressing and Lana wants to reach across the counter and slap his stupid, pretty face.

Lana stutters and Robin quickly comes to her rescue "That's what her and her date are doing, watching movies"

Steve stands straight like a peacock and crosses his arms and Lana tries her hardest not to look at the toned and tan limbs "Okay, then who is this mystery guy?”

"It's.. uh.." Lana panics and thinks of the first guy that pops into her head "Eddie Munson"

"You're kidding me? That freak?" Steve was immediately annoyed knowing the two were very suited, her and Steve surprised a lot of people when they noticed their attraction to one another, but there was just something there that even they didn’t understand.

"Hey, he's not a freak"

"Uh, yeah he is, he's twenty years old and still at school" To be honest, her date could have been anyone and Steve would have a problem with them.

"Steve you barely even graduated you're hardly in any position to judge anybody" That may have been a little harsh but he got under her skin so easily.

"You know what--"

Robin breaks up the pair before Steve carries on saying whatever he was about to.

"Guys can we not do this I find it highly too dramatic for my simple, little mind" Robin moves round the counter to pull Lana's arm "Let me help you find some movies"

"Have fun with your date Lana. Hey, why don’t you rent Cujo? Give him an insight on what it’s like to be with you”

Lana pretends to double over laughing as Robin tries to yank her arm towards the aisles of films “Looks like your sense of humor finally came in, don’t worry your personality should soon follow” This is exactly what Lana wanted to avoid, the two could no longer be in the same room as each other without saying something about the other, normally initiated by Steve who just had to say anything to annoy her.

Robin yanked really hard pulling Lana away before Steve could react.

“Ow, that hurt”

“Yeah, well watching you two flirt hurts”

Lana stops in her tracks “Woah that was not flirting”

“Are you kidding me? You two are insufferable” Robin laughs “Steve hasn’t had any luck with the ladies in months and it’s because he cannot keep his mind off of you, he called a girl Lana just the other day just because she was asking about The Shining” Robin remembers Steve stuttering an apology and the girl leaving seconds later. Lana smiled, but only in her mind. The Shining was her favorite movie, her and Hopper would watch it together all the time. “And you, what’s with the lie? If you don’t care then why lie?” Lana turns to see Robin looking smug.

Lana shrugs “I dunno, i just don’t want him to think that i am lost without him and that i can’t have a life without him”

“Look, you two are the most complicated people i have ever met, can you please just admit you love and care about each other?” They hadn’t ever told each other that they love one another, but they knew, just from a look or a touch, neither wanting to ruin what they had. Lana and Steve were never even officially boyfriend and girlfriend, oh no they were much too complicated for that. Lana had commitment issues that stemmed from her childhood, so letting Steve in was hard and Steve feared of getting his heart broken again, only this time was worse. Much worse. Lana gave Robin a look and she sighed “Fine i’ll drop it. Now let’s find movies for your ‘date’” She says putting air quotes up and Lana smacks her on the arm.

—

Lana leans her arm out of the window with a cigarette hanging between her fingers whilst she reads, waiting in the car park for Hellfire to finish. The words are blurs in her eyes after her encounter with Steve earlier, he looked good, too good. Now, Steve was not her type, at all. Well ,Lana assumed she liked a rougher look, someone who was a bit like her, she was not girly, she liked her worn down shoes and her large flannels. But, there was something about Steve, the first time they met was when he was in the way of her locker playing googly eyes with Nancy Wheeler and she shifted them to the side, noticing a twinkle in Steve’s eye when she gave them a few choice words. Steve was handsome in a way that no person could deny, he could look at her a certain way and she would melt, not that she would admit but she was putty in his hands. She wasn't Steve's type either, she certainly wasn't Nancy and she didn't fall for the popular boy act, it was the 'real Steve' she fell for.

She thinks back to earlier and she could have sworn she saw some hair peeking out of his polo shirt before on his chest, now that was new and was very interesting. Lana was definitely not concentrating on her book because she did not notice the curly haired boy at the window “I thought you quit” Lana jumped and the cigarette fell out of her fingers and the book to her lap.

“Jesus fucking christ Dustin” Lana clutched her hand to her chest as her heart pounded “And as for that” Her eyes gazed to the cigarette burning on the ground “Well, i just don’t have an excuse for that” She had quit but the stress of "breaking up" with Steve and losing her dad was too much.

Dustin chuckles, making Lana’s heart warm and they share their secret handshake through the window, when Eddie shows up next to Dustin. “Hey man, good work today” They bro shake and Eddie turns to Lana “Hey Lana, nice to see you again. You should come play some time” The metalhead smiles pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the school. The slightly older boy had developed quite the crush on the girl that picked Dustin up wearing band t-shirts and smelt like coconuts,she was, unlike any girl that he had gone to school with.

“Yeah maybe i’ll pass, i see enough of this doofus as it is” She says pointing to Dustin who pretends to act hurt.

Eddie smiles “Yeah, well maybe i could teach you some time, just you and me”

Dustin looks between the two “Erm yeah sure, that’d be cool” Lana replies unsurely, she hadn’t thought of Eddie in that way before, obviously when she lied to Steve she had said his name but only because she thought of Hellfire. Eddie was good looking though, they had similar music taste and he was a cool guy so why the hell not, Steve was out dating so she should too.

“See ya later and uh, Dustin's right, you should really quit” He puts a cigarette in his mouth winking at Lana who has to admit it made her heart beat a bit faster, and hits Dustin on the shoulder, walking to his car and Dustin gives a look to Lana who shrugs. Mike and Lucas say goodbye to Eddie and come to the truck saying their hellos to Lana before squishing together inside the vehicle.

—

After dropping off Lucas and Mike home Lana drives to her and her dad's cabin which she had spent months fixing back up, she wanted to keep the memories of her dad alive, when Dustin speaks up. “So, you like Eddie?”

“Uh i mean yeah he’s cool but, i, uh i dunno” The brunette stutters unsure of what to say.

Dustin chuckles “He’s not Steve?”

Lana shakes her head smiling "Drop it before I drop you out of this truck Henderson"

Dustin couldn't help it, his two favourite people in the whole world totally loved each other and now they can't stand each other. "I just miss hanging out with both of you together, what even happened?"

The details of what happened were far too much for Dustin to even comprehend, hell they were too much for her. "Listen D, Steve and I just grew apart, and I know you're like gonna be taller than me soon so you might think you're older but it's just something you'll understand when you go through stuff"

Dustin thinks of Suzie "I don't wanna go through that"

"Trust me I don't want you to either, you're too pure. Besides, Suzie is a keeper. Gheez if you guys can make it long distance you can do anything" This makes Dustin smile and Lana feels a sense of pride.

"Oh by the way and no questions allowed"

"Okay?"

Lana coughs "If Steve seems to mention or ask about tonight. Your erm, mom needed help with something, so, I instead went on a uh, date with Eddie"

"Lana what the–"

"Uh I said no questions!"

#steve harrington #steve x oc #stranger things #dustin henderson #fluff #angst #steve fic #steve fanfic #steveharrington #fanfic

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Note

Hi hi! Happy birthday week!!! 🥳🥳🥳 I hope it's been a good one for you and i hope the rest of your year is even better!!!🎉🎉🎉

For the celebration, can you ship me with a girl and a boy from stranger things? I'm 21, bisexual, and genderqueer. I'm 5'6.75 (yes i will fight for that .75 in with my life) and plus-sized, I have really short hair (im growing it out after having it buzzed a few months ago) that's three different colors atm because i bleached it so many times but was never able to catch up the colors so now it's black at the top, dark brown, and then a really dirty blonde at the ends. I loveeee to bake and read. My favorite genre is fantasy and adventure, Eragon in particular has such a special place in my heart. I don't really have a set genre of music that I listen to, it's usually just what I like regardless of genre (i highly highly recommend Ben&Ben tho, they're a Filipino band with amazing music). I can play the guitar and a little bit of piano. I'm a 3rd year biology student majoring in zoology but i will be going into medicine. I'm a pretty chill person and I can get really talkative with people I'm close to but if I don't really know you the only options are awkward silence or awkward rambling which i usually try to resolve (read as: make worse) by making a stupid joke or telling a weird fact. I am generally level-headed in serious situations and I'm almost always able to see the two sides of a situation objectively.

hmmm I think I’d ship you with Robin and Eddie!! <33

- hope

#the answer to your nightmare #miscellaneous nightmares #hope hooray

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honesthammie · 3 years

Text

Te amo

I am working on a few of the other prompts and a part 2 to prompt 4 the soulmate au I just recently got another puppy and I still have uni work to do so I'm a bit behind schedule with these and I'm so sorry. Hopefully this little kinda songfic makes up for it.

13th doctor x female reader

Warnings: swearing as usual, fluffy, sad thoughts, twist the original songs meaning, long as fuck.

Probably terrible as its my first songfic

I don't know much Spanish so some of the examples later on are Google translated and I know it can be wrong so I do apologise for any mistranslations

This is based off Rhiannas song Te Amo but I'm switching it up a little. I dont why 13th doctor came into my head when I was listening to it but it gave me this lil oneshot idea so enjoy! The picture is not mine but the rainbow effect added is done by me! Same for the picture later on.

I've been travelling with this amazing alien for a whole year now. The adventures are always amazing if she's there! The others sometimes complain and say its boring, especially on a junk planet but to see her face light up with excitement makes my day and it well worth the dirt we cover ourselves on by the time we are done. And when she finds something that she thought was useful and it turns out, it's not her scrunch is amazing.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm in love with this alien. I know, weird, a human and an alien together? But I can't help it! I'm completely besotted with her. If she even looks in my direction, my legs go to jelly and I get butterflies. I know, cheesy. But thats exactly how I feel around her. I barely want to touch her because I nearly fainted the last few times. And I fear she may pick up on how I'm distancing myself from her. I don't want to break her heart and leave, the thought of her look kills me as is so I'm trying to get her to kick me off.

It doesn't seem to be working though. I've been distancing myself since I found out about how I feel, which is now 6 months ago and she's trying to get me to be as close as I was with her.

I'll tell her. On one of our amazing adventures but I can't do it straight forward, it's making me sick with anxiety just thinking about it. I'll fancy it up, make her work it out. Whenever we are next to each other and the moment is right, I'll tell her in another language!

I finally get out of bed after I finished writing in my diary. I slip some comfy clothes on and head out to the TARDIS library and hope no one is there, especially her. I'll be distracted and right now, I need to concentrate. I wonder the warm halls, grateful that the TARDIS had considered my preferences. I think the TARDIS likes me more than the others because I talk to her and show her gratefulness for taking us somewhere amazing and I chat to her regularly and I try to involve her in my conversations. The others find it weird, except for the Doctor, she just smiles and joins in with me. Im still learning how to translate her but I think I've sort of got it.

I reach my hand forward and grab the aged bronze doorknob and open to the giant room. There were so many floors that an elevator had to be used to access some of them as the Doctor said "walking would literally take weeks to reach some floors". Thankfully the TARDIS organises them to make them easier to find. I looked forward and saw an interactive map in front of me. My hands touched the screen and many subjects and categories came up. Anything ranging from kiddie tales to straight up smut, I have a feeling either River or Missy are to blame for that addition.

I've never met them but the TARDIS showed me videos from her database and brought books to my attention about them. They both seem very dirty minded people so I'm not surprised those are there. I wonder if the Doctor has ever stumbled upon this section or is it for none Doctor eyes only? If she does know about them, has she ever read one? No, don't go there you stupid brain! She probably doesn't know!

I quickly stop that train of thought and catch my breath. I've never thought about those kinds of things about anyone before. Stupid Timelord, making me go all weird and think dirty things. Now my face is all red, I really hope I'm alone in here. I quickly focus back to the task at hand, finding a new language to learn. The TARDIS seemed to know where to go and blue arrows appeared, guiding me to the right section in what could be a maze.

As I walking, I felt excitement rise within me. What if she felt the same way? What if she was impressed by how far I wanted to go just to say those 3 words? Would her hazel honey eyes sparkle with delight? Would she scronch her nose in amazement?

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the language learning section and there were many alien languages but the TARDIS seemed to have a better idea of what would be perfect for me as a white hardback book fell off the 4th shelf onto the wooden floor. I picked it up and noticed how smooth the cover was and how old yet unused it looked. The white was a little off, almost a dull cream from ageing which made the gold writing harder to read. The title was simple:

Spanish basics and need to knows.

I did always find Spanish in school fun to learn, more than French or German anyway and I don't wanna stereotype this into a typical French is the language of romance. I never really found it romantic sounding compared to Spanish.

I picked up the book and quickly flicked through to the right page and took a note on my phone as to what the translation was and put the worn book away. I quietly thanked the TARDIS and rushed out of the library and back into my room where I could practice without getting caught.

A few weeks have passed since I picked up the new words and practiced them until I was confident and had the TARDIS' approval that I was saying it right. Today the Doctor wanted to take us to this party in the 18th century and we all decided to dress for the part once we landed.

Yaz was wearing a beautiful black and red ballroom gown, accented with little bows around the bottom and lace cuffs. She had her black hair curled into a ponytail. It was simple and cute, much like her style normally. Graham and Ryan wore similar suits but Graham wore green accents and Ryan wore yellow accents.

I let the TARDIS pick my dress. She picked a black and dark blue ballroom gown with blue roses on the bottom. It had black lace underneath and blue lace as the cuffs. The gown also seemed to glitter slightly in the light making me sparkle very subtly. I put my comfy boots on as you couldn't see my shoes as I walked anyway so why did it matter? With all the running we do, I'm not risking my ankles with heels, thank you very much. I had my (h/c) hair in (fave style). It suited my dress perfectly.

I nearly choked on oxygen when I saw how hot the Doctor looked in her suit. It took me a few moments to realise we match. We both blushed at the realisation. Of course the TARDIS makes us match! No wonder why she was more than eager to help me pick an outfit! Stupid sentient ship, shipping us already!

I quickly cleared my throat and complimented everyone on how amazing they looked but I just couldn't take my eyes off the Doctor for long. She was like a magnet for my eyes. Someone help before she realises!

"Don't we all look brilliant? Perfect for the party! 18th century Yorkshire to be exact! What a great century for you guys. Now then, this party is for Nobles and higher, as per usual in these times. Ryan, I suggest you keep in mind about any racist comments that may come out. But as long as you say your Graham's personal butler, you should be welcomed with little resistance. And Yaz, I want you to be (y/n)'s personal maid. That does mean you'll have to follow your so called "masters" around and do anything they ask unfortunately and Graham, (y/n), please act like the others around you and use them. Unfortunately this is the only way all 5 of us can join the party. You'll be fine as long as you bite your tongues. Now the Noble Edward Collins is the host so be sure to thank him for inviting you, even though you technically weren't. And try not to get too drunk, I know what you humans are like! Now follow me." The Doctor explained. I was going to tell the Doctor today, but I guess, I'll have to wait.

The Doctor opened the doors and we were in a cupboard under some gorgeous marble stairs. As we walked towards the party I noticed some family portraits along the walls. They were a very beautiful looking family. The mother had long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The father was buff, long brown hair and daring brown eyes. There were two children, a girl and a boy. The girl had long brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, whilst the son had blonde hair and brown eyes. They also had a brown greyhound dog laying by the sons feet. The son must be the host, Edward. He looked not much older than 10 in the last painting but the daughter was no where to be found in the portrait and theu all looked mournful. Is she dead and is that the picture capturing the moment of grief? Why would anyone want that? It's so strange, even for this time period.

The Doctor held me and Yaz close, stopping us in our tracks. My heart was racing at the simple touch. But as soon as the touch was there, it was gone. "I hope its okay with you (y/n) but you're going to have to be married to someone."

My heart stopped for a moment and I nearly choked on air. "What? Why?"

"Because women like yourself would have been married as young as 13 or 14. Now your only choices are me and Graham. You can't choose Ryan as he's supposed to be a butler and you can't choose Yaz as she's your maid. The choice is yours, I just need to know wether or not I should refer to you as my darling wife or not?"

What. The. Fuck.

Why did her even calling me that l, turn me on? Obviously, I'm going to choose her but I'm going to have to perfect my reasoning here.

"As much as I love Graham, it's going to be awkward if I have to kiss him or anything because he's like my grandad! I guess you'll do Timelord. Come on then husband, we don't want to be late to the dancefloor!" I spoke clearly hoping she didn't notice how excited I actually was to have even a hint of a relationship with her. It may be fake but ill take anything when it comes to her.

We arrived at the welcome committee and handed our cards over, aka the psychic paper. We were going as Mr and Mrs (last name). The Doctor was holding my hand this entire time and it's driving me insane. I don't know if she can feel my racing pulse under her fingers but if she can I hope she puts it down to excitement! We walked down the most grandest staircase you would ever lay your eyes on.

First we walked around, greeting everyone as they came up to us or if she dragged me to someone she knew, but not personally. She was cute when she was fangirling over these people. Yaz found it annoying as she just wanted to party but I couldn't help it. The way her eyes shimmer with recognition was more beautiful than any galaxy she could ever take us. Sometimes her eyes flickered with admiration and it did make me have jealousy for just a moment before I remembered, I'm staying with her and they aren't .

As the party moved on we met the host Edward. He looked a lot different than in his paintings. He was around 20 years old now and his blonde hair was below his shoulders. He looked a lot like his father with his muscley build. And he was very charismatic which I did not like as he poured all his charm into the Doctor. Does everyone here know that he's gay or does he see through the Doctors disguise? Either way, it was rubbing me the wrong way. I quickly excused myself with Yaz and walked into the bathroom.

"I did not like him. I do not like this Edward guy. Something about him rubs me completely wrong. He's handsome but something is telling me he knows the Doctor isn't a man."

"I felt the same way. He knows something we don't. Before we go out there again, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Yaz asked. My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. She knows. The jig is up with Yaz. "How do you feel about her, honestly? One minute you 2 are inseparable, then you distance yourself and now you are a nervous wreck around her! I won't judge but I just want to make sure my theory is correct."

Shit. I guess I really was obvious. Does she know?

"If your theory is about me falling hopelessly in love with the Doctor then you'd be correct. I can't help it. I'm going to tell her how I feel without being completely stupid. I just need a right moment to say it." I spoke with a heavy sigh. Hopefully, Yaz can help create that moment thay I need. She nods her head and opens the door. We walk back to the Doctor and notice Edward has gone to other guests and she was talking to Graham. I looked around and saw Ryan flirting with a pretty lady near the food table. Why am I not surprised?

A few hours had passed and the Doctor seemed bored with standing and talking so I made a plan in my head. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dancefloor as the next song came on. I didn't quite know how to dance properly but I knew the basics if it. She has to lead and I simply follow suit. It took a few moments but I got the hang of it with the Doctors help. Soon we were dancing so gracefully underneath the most beautiful candelabra that lit up her face perfectly.

Her hair swayed to our perfect dance ever so gently. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and her lips were in a permanent smile. She even laughed a couple of times. Then as the music slowed down to a pace that was perfect, I grabbed her waist and looked her. My heart was going crazy and my legs were about to buckle but I had rehearsed my lines. I can do this.

"Hey Doc. Its been an amazing time with you but I can't continue this without being honest with you. But everytime I get close, I back down in fear. So I'm going to let you figure it out. Doctora te amo. Entiendo que si no sientes lo mismo y me iré si quieres. (Doctor i love you. i understand if you don't feel the same way and i'll leave if you want.)" I spoke with as much passion and intention as I could. I looked into her eyes and saw her confused and trying to work out what I said. I would find it cute if my heart was beating right out of my chest. "Well, I've had a great time but I'm fucking knackered. I'm calling it night. I'll be heading to the TARDIS if you need me."

"I'll come with ya. I'm knackered as well and we both need each other to undo the corsets and mine is starting to hurt a little bit. How we used to do this for a full day, everyday, is beyond my understanding. As beautiful as we look, I don't think its worth the pain this will bring in the morning." Yaz spoke with a slight mumble as proof of her mental state and finishing with a yawn. I chuckled at her state and walked back to the TARDIS with a small amount of chat along the way.

She is right though. These corsets really do hurt you after a while, I'm glad I chose not to wear heels or else I'll be fucked for in the morning. I would literally scream. I think the Doctor had the right idea in wearing a suit, no pain. I do feel bad for leaving her but I just need some space after basically admitting everything that's been built up within me for too damn long. Maybe I should tell Yaz how it went and maybe she can help determine if the Doctor is happy or not.

We walked back into the wardrobe room and I helped Yaz out of her corset. She immediately sighed in relief. She finished getting herself into comfy clothes and started to untie my ribbon.

"So did you tell her?"

"Sort of. I basically told her everything but in Spanish. I just hope it doesn't change anything, except in a positive way, of course! If she wants me gone, I've told her that it's fine and I understand. She's very socially awkward and as cute as I find it, it may not help me in this situation. Do you have any clues on how she may react once she figures it out?"

Yaz stopped untying my corset for a moment and placed 1 finger upon her chin in thought. Her eyes were almost shut and seemed almost completely black in the light. After what seemed like forever, she took her finger off her chin and beamed a toothy smile. Her eyes sparkled as she remembered something and seemed to gleam slightly menacingly. A smirk replaced her smile soon after.

"There's a few times she's shown affection towards you. And I mean romantic affection. She always chooses to hold your hand over anyone else's if given the choice. She always steps I'm front of you when an enemy threatens to kill us all or hurt us in anyway. When you go wandering around on your own, she's terrified thats she's lost you forever to an enemy we don't even know of!" Yaz starts explaining carefully as if she's worried on how to word it.

"Those are just friendly affec-"

"I wasn't done. I was warming up." Yaz interrupts me as I was about to go into a self deprecating speech on how I'm just a friend to everyone and never a lover. "She always looks to see your face on adventures because she secretly loves your reactions, bad or good. When the Master revealed himself, she looked straight at you for support on how she should react. When she came back from the Kasavin, she ran straight to you and made sure you were ok first before any of us. When we were in the Tsungra medical ship, the first person she asked for was you! Whilst she was unconscious on board the ship, she kept mumbling your name, over and over again. When she saw how gorgeous you looked today, I thought she'd take you right there on the spot! She fucking loves you (y/n)! You're just so unbelievably blind to it all!"

Yaz was almost red with rage. Did she really do all that, for me? The TARDIS mustve read my mind and seemed to hum positively in reply. If everything Yaz said is true then she'll be so happy about it and maybe we can be a thing! But then again, maybe losing so many in a similar position as me will turn her away. Maybe her soul is awry and she's asking why right now.

Once I had gotten changed I went to sleep almost straight away, I suppose all that dancing and social ques having tired me out more than I thought.

I woke up to a soft knock on my door. I rubbed my (e/c) eyes and told them I'd be a few minutes as I've only just woken up. It wasn't until I finished brushing my (h/c) hair that I remembered what happened yesterday. All the panic rushed within me at once and I nearly threw up. I took several deep breaths and opened the door.

"GRAHAM THANK FUCK ITS YOU!" I almost shouted at him. He looked a little bewildered for a moment before he seemed to remember what brought him here in the first place.

"Hello Love, I'm here because Doc wanted to speak with you privately in the library. She says that the TARDIS will guide you to her location. She seemed a little off after you and Yaz left. Did something happen? Is everything ok?" Graham asked cautiously. He must be so confused.

"Sort of. I'll explain more when I get back but what do you mean by "a little off"?"

"Well she seemed lost in all sense of the word. She kept muttering "Te Amo" all the time. She was all over the place aswell. She got me and Ryan back here not long after you guys. Something about not trusting Ryan to not get alcohol poisoning without her around. She hasn't really left the library since if I'm honest. She's been in there for 12 hours. I only know she wants you because she whattsapped me on my phone. Whatever is going on, please sort it out, she's starting to really worry me. She hasn't been the same since that Master guy came around." Graham spoke clearly, albeit confused. I nodded my head and walked in the opposite direction to him and hoped the TARDIS would take me there quicker than normal. I want to treat this like a plaster, rip it off in one go.

Sooner than I realised, I grabbed the all too familiar door knob of the library. I took a deep breath and walked in. A blue line appeared towards the interactive map. I awakened the console and I saw a black screen with a few words on it. It looked like a message with how it was presented.

Hello (y/n)! Don't walk until you calm. Breath deeply and try not to panic. I promise you, all will work out in the end. I see more than you realise and I know my thief better than anyone whoever stepped foot into my being. I know of her main problem about the situation. If she loves you, drink this. It won't hurt, she'll know what it is.

The TARDIS

I should have been surprised by this new knowledge that she could speak to me, in a way, but I've seen so much and I am so tender hooks so I didn't take much notice of it. I quickly sat down and tried to control my breathing. After about 5 or so minutes, I felt calm enough to finally meet up with her and hear what she has to say.

I followed the blue line carefully until I spotted her in a comfy room. She mustve gotten changed at some point as she was wearing her usual rainbow outfit, minus the jacket. She was sat on a deep purple sofa, legs curled into her body. Her shoes were on the carpeted floor underneath her, seemingly forgotten for the moment. There were many books surrounding us from many cultures and spieces. One wall had a cozy wood burning fireplace crackling within the silence that surrounded us.

Her face was scrunched within deep thought. Her eyes sparkling with an emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on; hope, sorrow or excitement? Her lips had a small smirk gracing them and her teeth had bitten a small part of it. Her hands were holding a book in a way where I couldn't quite see what it was.

I didn't want to disturb her as she looked so ethereal with the warm glow of the fire highlighting her in the perfect way. Unfortunately, it's plaster time and I wanted this sorted sooner rather than later. I took a deep breath took in the picture for memory.

"Hey, Graham said you wanted to talk to me? Is everything ok?" I asked gently and as softly as I could so she was carefully brought out of her little world. I didn't want to scare her. She raised her eyes from her book for a moment and bookmarked the page she was at with a little TARDIS paperclip. She placed the book on the table at the side of her and patted the seat next to her.

As I sat down my nerves were through the roof. She gave nothing away as she stared at me for a minute, as if assessing something about me.

"Why are you so nervous? Calm down. You are right, It is to do with last night. You left pretty abruptly after basically confessing your feelings to me. I was so confused, not just about what you said but about myself and what I wanted to do about you." The Doctor spoke monotonously. Did she mean get rid of me? "I had to first of all, find out what you said, well done on learning a new language by the way, one even I'm not fluent at. I'm guessing the old girl had something to do with that idea. Not that, you aren't smart enough but you don't know what languages I do or don't know."

The Tardis seemed to chuckled at the accusation and I simply nodded my head. "I wanted to buy myself time and to impress you."

"You impressed me a long time ago Miss (l/n). That is just a cherry on top. After I figured out what you said, no thanks to my old friend here, I went through a lot of thinking. I've not been in many relationships and you know my history regarding the ones I have been in. You know, River and Missy? And I have such a bad past with it ending in nothing but tears for me. I always lose those I care for deeply." She spoke with tears spilling from her gorgeous eyes. I grabbed her face gently and wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape their home.

"That was when you were a man. You're a woman now, everything is so different. Relationships can be heartbreaking. I know what you're main problem is and the TARDIS has a solution to that. I just need you to tell me the truth. How do you feel about me? Do you want me to stay or not?" I stated holding the small shot glassed amount of liquid in my hand. The liquid was golden and sparkled slightly in the light. There were specks of orange and silver within it and it was as hot as a nice cup of (hot drink). Her eyes sparkled with hope and shock. Her lips were smiling wide. And she seemed to giggle at the sight of it. She held it for a moment as if examining it like a rare artefact, maybe it was. Either way, I trust her judgement and if she's happy about it, then so am I. Once she had analysed the drink, she practically leapt into my arms and pushed me down on my back. She smelled of custard creams and the TARDIS which was odd but completely her and I couldn't imagine her smelling any other way.

"That does solve our problem! What she has just given you is the rarest liquid in the universe seeing as only one thing in the entirety of space can produce it. That drink is known as the nectar of the chosen ones. It's rare as the race that used to make them has practically gone extinct. There's only 3 left in the known universe and you're living in one. That drink is the blood of the TARDIS. It grants you immortality if you drink it. It is said to resemble your favourite beverage no matter who you are. However, it only lasts 100 years and you must drink it every century or else your body clock will kick in and you will age and be as mortal as you are now." She speaks with a warning as we sit up holding holds.

"I have no problem with that. I would sacrifice everything if it meant I got to call you mine. Just please tell me and I'll drink it." I told her with adoration in my eyes.

She held me close and planted a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. It was short but it sent more fireworks than you can imagine through my body. I knew I had found her. She grabbed my waist and whispered next to my ear:

"Te Amo"

#13th doctor #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #female reader

31 notes · View notes

itgetsdarksometimes35 · 4 years

Text

For Freedom

Warnings: This chapter: none; the series: non-con, dub-con, depression, forced marriage, angst, forced pregnancy, 18+

Word count: 4,237

Pairings: Dark!Bucky Barnes / Reader

Summary: Reader is the youngest girl in her family. After being sold to Bucky Barnes, and forced to have his child, she and her sisters look for a way to escape.

~ indicates time change

- indicates a POV change

A/N: Hey you guys! I know I planned on this being the ending, but I thin this will be a small series. The next part will be the ending for sure, though. Hope you enjoy, next thing out will be Love In True Form, and then I’ll get to work on challenges. Then after that, I may have a new series for you all...

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It took months to save up enough money. You only needed enough to get two one-way tickets to Germany, but you were scared to take out too much in fears of James finding out. In that time, your oldest sister, Lucille, had twin boys. She had 5 sons altogether now, and you couldn’t wait to see her again. You hadn’t spoken to her since she was married and taken away years ago; Anne seemed to be the person who was doing all the communicating for you all. The second oldest, Vienna, had 3 daughters before she finally had her son. Her husband refused to give up until he had an “heir.” Anne had only 3 children, two boys and a girl. All the names to your nieces and nephews were a mystery, along with their faces and ages. You could guess Lucille’s twins’ ages were less than a year, but you could never be sure. Anne knew you had your son, but she didn’t know his name. She never asked, and she told you not to tell her. You weren’t sure if your other sisters knew, but it would only be a matter of time before they did.

Bucky had turned 1 years old a month prior to you both leaving. James threw a small party at a local amusement park that he had rented out for the entire day. His friends and family were the only in attendance, as usual, and the older kids enjoyed the rides while Bucky smiled at all his guests and messed his face with icing from his safari cake. James had been so happy to plan the party; balloon animals, a small petting zoo, and face painting areas all decorated the park. You couldn’t deny the way he beamed at Bucky as he screamed in affection at the baby goat drinking from the bottle or the way he giggled at the stuffed rabbit James’ friend, Natasha, had gifted him. James wasn’t loving with you, but you were thankful it didn’t carry over to Bucky. You wished yours and James’ situation was different. Maybe you’d love him in different lights.

When James thought you were buying groceries one day, you went out to get you and Bucky’s passport and buy your tickets. The passports would be ready and shipped to your house in 5 weeks, you paid an extra fee to get the expedition processing, and our flight would be the following week.

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

“See ya tonight, bud.” James caressed Bucky’s head while speaking to the pouting toddler. Bucky was always upset to see his daddy leave for work, and overjoyed when he came back. Your heart clenched. Were you doing the right thing? Then James turned to you and you shook the thought away. Of course you were.

“Have a good day, dear. We’ll miss you,” You chirped as you kissed James on the cheek. He turned his mouth up in a small smile before kissing you on the lips.

“Can’t wait to get back.” He winked at you and your stomach turned at his crud intentions. You were nothing but a walking toy for him, something to cook him food and bear his children. You faked a smile before dipping into the house while James drove off.

You shut the door and quickly walked upstairs, your cab would be here in an hour. Plenty of time to pack. You set Bucky in his playpen and he looked at you as you frantically moved around yours and James’ shared room trying to throw useful items into the suitcase you brought to the house the day you moved in.

“Da-da,” Bucky cooed from the pen as he picked up a block to start stacking.

“Da-da went to work, baby. Now you and mommy are going to go on a trip,” You turned to your son and smiled at him, “Are you excited?” You talked in your baby voice and your son smiled back at you. His 3 teeth on full display for you.

Your suitcase was filled with as many clothes as you saw fit. Everyone had specific items to bring, and your job was the clothes. Anne and Lucille would bring baby supplies, diapers, sippy cups, toys, etc; Vienna shared your job. The plan was to pack light, anything other than what you absolutely needed had to be left--including photos, and then drain your husband’s bank account for money. Finding out James’ banking information was the hardest thing for you to do, he kept it all locked in a safe in a room that was always locked. After snooping on him one night after he thought you were asleep, you were surprised to see the combination was the day of your marriage.

As you were leaving the bedroom, you saw Bucky’s baby book. It wasn’t big, and you could fit it in your purse. There were millions of photos on the walls, but none of them were personal to you. They were high tech and flashy photos James had spent too much money on. None of them looked natural. Then again, you had never felt natural with him. But that book held photos you had captured with an old polaroid you found in the basement. The film was just as old, but there was enough to last you years. You grabbed it and stuffed it into your purse as the Taxi started honking. You picked Bucky up from his playpen and left. You would just have to deal with Anne’s complaining when you got to Germany.

The taxi dropped you off at the airport 45 minutes before you were supposed to board. You rolled your suitcase over to the bank that was next door, and entered with Bucky on your hip. James listed you as an account holder in the case of an emergency. You were positive he hadn’t seen anything wrong with this, you’d still need to know his information, and he probably thought he had broken you beyond the point of willing yourself to run. Little did he know.

“Good morning, I’d like to withdraw some funds from my husband’s account,” You said to the older woman with a blonde bob and bright red lipstick. She smiled and set the glasses hanging around her neck on her nose before turning to the screen ahead of her.

“Alright, name please.” You told her and she typed a few times. “And his?” She looked at you, and you noticed a bit of lipstick in her teeth.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” The woman nodded and typed away.

“Da-da,” Bucky yelled and you looked down at him with a smile.

“That’s right, honey, that’s daddy’s name.” Bucky smiled up at you before grabbing at your hair to play with.

“Oh, he’s a cutie,” The older woman exclaimed, “Can he have a lollipop?” She reached into a brown bowel on the counter separating the two of you before pulling out a blue sucker.

“I don’t see why not. Thank you.” You took the blue lollipop before turning to Bucky who was eyeing the candy with intensity. “What do you say?”

“Tank to!” You unwrapped the lollipop before handing it to Bucky. He grabbed it with his chunky hand before greedily sucking on it, already getting a blue sticky streak on his mouth.

You turned your attention back to the blonde, and she asked you for your name and bank information. You gave it to her as she continued to type away at her computer. “Alright, can you tell me the amount you’d like to withdraw today?”

You cleared your throat before answering, “All of it.”

The woman’s eyes got big. “Ma’am, there’s 2 million dollars in here. Can you give a reason?”

“Yes ma’am.” You adjusted Bucky on your hip as you tried to remember your lie. “My husband, James, was recently in a horrible accident at his job. I understand the hospital can take the money from the account, but they’ve given me the option to give it to them in person as well. I was on my way to catch a flight to him, and decided this was a route I’d like to take. Our insurance wouldn’t inflate because they wouldn’t have to pay anything, too, and now that we have this little one,” You lifted your hip that carried Bucky a bit higher, “I want our insurance as good as possible. We never know, you know?”

The blonde looked as if she were about to cry. “Oh, you poor thing! Yes, of course I understand completely. I have 2 daughters, and when their father got sick our insurance and healthcare went completely down the drain. I wish I could’ve had the money you have, I know it can be terrifying to have bad policies when raising children. Especially young ones.” You were nodding your head, trying to look pitiful. You felt bad for lying, especially to this woman. She looked so bad for you and was able to relate to your fake story. Your stomach flipped, and you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Thank you, I’m sorry about your husband. It’s a horrible situation that some of us are put in.”

The woman agreed and typed on the computer again. A register was opened and she counted out taped together stacks of money. She put them in a cream colored bag along with a receipt and handed it to you.

“I hope everything goes okay for you and your little one. Us moms have to stay strong and do what’s best.”

You held back tears at the woman’s words. “That we do.”

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You made your way back to the airport as Bucky babbled a song from a show you both watch together. The bank teller, who’s name you learned to be Camille, informed you that your husband would be emailed by the bank about the deposit due to legal protocol. You knew James checks his email religiously and that he got notifications on his phone. You knew that he was probably on a phone call with the bank right now, screaming into the phone. But you didn’t care.

By the time he figured out you’d left, you’d be in Germany. Or close to it. You planned on destroying your trail once you got there. Anne had planned it all out. She deleted her history and told you to destroy all your letters by burning them. She led her husband to believe you all had traveled to Greece with undeleted searches. It would throw all of them off for a bit, but eventually you knew they’d figure out you went to Germany. You all knew that you couldn’t stay together after a while, it’d be too risky. You knew at some point one of you might get caught, and the rest would have to save themselves. You were fugitives, trapped in your own homes, with men that were supposed to provide security as the guards. But, until then, you’d stick together as long as possible. You were stronger as a team during the weaker parts of the beginning.

As you boarded the plane you felt a wave of nausea hit you. You rushed to the plane bathroom with Bucky still in your arms. You threw the door open, and emptied your stomach into the toilet bowl.

“Uh oh,” Bucky said, making you laugh at his purity.

“It’s okay, honey, mommy’s just a little nervous,” You reassured your son. You flushed and washed your hands before stepping out of the cramped room to find your seat. The plane took off soon after that.

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

You were jerked awake as a flight attendant tapped your shoulder, her brown hair pulled tight into a low bun.

“Sorry to wake you, ma’am,” She had a smooth voice that you felt could put you right back to sleep, “But you’ve arrived at your destination.”

“Okay, thank you.” She smiled at you before standing up straight to move to the back of the plane to wake up other passengers. Bucky was asleep in your arms, and you planned to keep him that way. He had been good throughout the entire flight, but you weren’t surprised. He was such an easy baby, you couldn’t have been blessed with a better one. Especially not in your circumstances.

You got off the plane and went in search of your suitcase in the bag return. You quickly found it before you headed out of the crowded airport. Bucky was quick to wake up after hearing the commotion of the early Wednesday morning traffic. Taxi drivers were yelling in German and English to the people exiting the airport, offering them a ride for a “price they couldn’t get elsewhere.” You would’ve taken the offer, but knew that you had to wait for the bus. Anne had said it’d be easier to hide that way. The taxi driver would ask for a direct address while the bus would drop you off at another station. Miles from your true destination. Plus the bus driver was less likely to remember you.

Your stomach growled as Bucky bounced in your lap. You had eaten on the plane, but had vomited nearly everything up. Your stomach wasn’t agreeing with anything today, but you knew it was just the guilt and nerves you felt. Everything would go back to normal once you were with your sisters, and plus they would have something good for you to have at the house.

The bus smelled and was cramped with loud people on their way to work. They spoke words you couldn’t comprehend loudly in your ear, and Bucky sat amazed at them. When your stop came, you eagerly grabbed your suitcase, bag, and son and all but jumped off the bus, glad to be rid of it for now. You followed a path Anne described in great detail until you came to houses with numbers. You dragged your tired body along them until you found the number that had played in your head for the past few days. Number 39. Your new home

You climbed the three steps up to the brown, wooden door, and grasped the iron knuckle. You pulled it up and down several times emitting loud thuds to echo in the small community of homes. Bucky grasped the front of your chest and stuck his face into it to represent his hunger.

“I know, baby, mommy will feed you soon.”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest as you waited for an answer. You counted 23 seconds before you considered your possible mistake. Did you go down the wrong street? Was 39 the house number or was it the bus number you were supposed to take? Was there any way to contact your sisters? Could you somehow convince James that you had been kidnapped in hopes he’d believe you? Just then the door creaked open. Your worries came to a halt as you saw Vienna standing in the doorway. She had, of course, aged a bit since the last time you saw her. Her hair was shorter and a little bit dull in color and she was skinnier than the chubby teenager you were used to, but there was no denying that was her.

“Oh my God, Vienna?” Her droopy tired eyes held tears as she took you in. Her lip trembled and she whispered your name. She opened the door wider as she held out her arms to you. “It’s been so long!”

You held her tighter to you with the arm that didn’t hold Bucky. She pulled away from you as tears escaped from her eyes. Your own were starting to conjugate in yours. Vienna stepped aside so you could step into the small house. She took a peek outside before shutting and locking the door behind you.

“Where’s everyone else,” You asked, setting your bags down at last.

Vienna didn’t have to answer as you heard your name being called behind you. You turned and adjusted Bucky into your other arm as you see Lucille stepping out of a room. Her back is a bit hunched over and one of her eyes seemed to lazily shut now. Gray hair was sprinkled across her scalp, and wrinkles were setting under her eyes. She was only 36.

“Look at you, you’ve grown so much,” She exclaimed, stepping closer to you. You were only 1 when she was married off at 16. She was the youngest one wed, but she was also the prettiest. Your father had no problem finding a man to sell her to. She was the only one auctioned off before 18. Vienna left at 19 and Anne left at 22. None of you were as strong as Anne, she had held on the longest. You had left at 18, too.

You hugged her tightly. You never got to know her, but you still loved her deeply. You hated the cards you all had been dealt for keeping you apart for so long. You let go as Vienna stepped closer to you both. She rubber Bucky’s small back.

“And who is this little guy?” She smiled down at him as he gave a 3 tooth grin back.

You sniffed before handing Bucky to your sister. “This is Bucky. My one and only.” Vienna mimicked the name before bouncing him on her hip a bit.

“Well, Bucky, I think it’s time for you to meet your aunts and cousins.”

Lucille took your hand as Vienna carried Bucky into a room filled with kids and a crib with two babies sleeping. They all were watching a TV, but turned to you as you walked in.

“Kids, come meet your 4th aunt,” Vienna said as she cooed at Bucky. 3 girls and a boy walked over to you and Lucille. “That’s Jade,” Vienna pointed to the girl with dutch braids, “Josephine,” The one with big curls and floral dress, “June,” The one with a ponytail and a sports jersey, “and Jared,” The only boy. They all waved to you, all looking a bit uncomfortable. You didn’t blame them, they had traveled from God knows where to a weird house, and now they were meeting people they had never met before. Probably never even heard of. “And this is your other cousin, Bucky.” Josephine, she looked to be the oldest-- probably 13, smiled at the child.

“Oh, he’s so cute! Can I hold him?” She looked to her mom for confirmation before looking at you. Her big eyes soft, just like her mother’s.

“Yeah, of course. He’s hungry, do you want to feed him?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yes!” You chuckled at her enthusiasm, and she gave a shy smile once realizing how excited she sounded.

“He can eat crushed up fruit, do you guys have any?” Your eyes searched Vienna and Lucille.

“In the kitchen. I can go do it for you,” The girl replied, scooping up your son before moving through a door that led into, what you assumed to be, a kitchen.

“We left just in time,” Vienna said, “Her father had already found a man to marry her. She’s sweet, and I know she’d make a great mom one day, but she’s also so smart. She has a life to live before she should even think about a baby,” She sighed, “But of course, women in our situation don’t hold any other value.”

Vienna’s children had gone back to watching the TV, and Lucille called her children up.

“Boys, come here please.” 3 boys walked over to you. “This is my oldest, Tennessee,” The boy with dusty hair nodded to you, he looked about 16, “Then Anthony,” the one with curly hair and glasses, “And Kyle,” He had freckles and a dimple on his chin. Lucille pointed to the crib. “Over there are Michael and Ian, they’re 3 months old. Didn’t think I had it in me, but I guess it’s not over until the big change, huh?” You smiled at her as she squeezed your hand.

“It’s nice to meet everyone,” You say and they nod at you, taking their seat on the floor and couch yet again. There were still 3 kids that were taking steady glances at you, and you were about to ask about them when you heard your name yet again. You turn to the left to see Anne walking down the stairs.

“Anne!” You ran over to embrace your sister. You and her had by far had the strongest relationship, being closer in age and spending the most time together. You felt yourself crying once again. Anne broke the hug and held you at arms length, looking you over.

“Wow,” She breathed out as tears flowed freely. She looked exactly the same as she did 7 years prior. You giggled at her and she joined you. A little girl, no older than two, ran to hug her legs. “This little stinker,” Anne said lifting the girl up, “Is my youngest Brooke.” She kissed the girl’s cheek before waving the last 2 boys over. “That’s George,” The oldest one with shoulder length hair, “And Evan.” He looked exactly like your father. Had the same lifted left eyebrow and everything. Anne looked like the man she hated the most, and you knew she’d never be rid of the man who she blamed all her sorrows on. Especially not now that her son looked like him, but you knew she’d never neglect her child.

Josephine was walking out of the kitchen while wiping Bucky’s hands. You grabbed your sister’s hand and led her over to your son.

“And this is Bucky.”

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After the tear filled reunion, you found yourself at a small dinner table with your sisters. They were all huddled around it as your nieces and nephews sat in front of the tv and had dinner. They giggled at the silent screen that flashed cartoons at them. Bucky lay asleep in Anne’s arms as she bounced him.

“Alright,” Anne whispered loud enough for just you all to hear, “So, does everyone know the plan?” You all nodded. Anne had planned this all out. Every time something was needed outside of the house, somebody different each time would leave to retrieve it. It would go in rotation from oldest to youngest. You would carry a burner phone with you and would only use it if there was an emergency. The phone would have one number on it, the house phone, that another sister would be right by until the other one returned back safely.

After dinner, you helped Vienna clean up. You both had insisted Anne and Lucille get some rest, saying they had gotten there the earliest and were tired. Anne took Bucky to the room you, her, Bucky, Brooke, and June would sleep in. The house only had 3 bedrooms, and 5 people would have to bunk in the small bedrooms with only one king size bed together. It would be a squeeze, but it was all definitely better than the Hell you all had escaped.

While cleaning, you found yourself not being able to focus on the story Vienna was telling you. Your stomach was turning, fighting the peas and chicken you had just ate, and your head was suddenly hurting. You were sweating too. Were you having a panic attack?

“You okay, sis?” Before you could answer, you were vomiting up your dinner into the sink. Vienna soothingly rubbed your back as you finished off the remnants. You turned on the faucet to wash away the mush.

“I’m s-sorry. I guess I’m a little scared still?” Vienna looked at you and gave a knowing smile before resting her hand on your shoulder.

“How far along are you?”

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The day had been a shitty one. James was in the middle of an important business pitch with Sam Wilson, a promising company from Louisiana that he wanted to partner with, when his assistant rushed in. He tried to order her out, but when he heard “money” and “gone” he had to apologize and excuse himself. After seeing the bank’s email, and hearing the voicemail they left his assistant after she called them, he rescheduled his meeting with Sam, explaining vaguely what was happening.

James believed someone had stolen your information in order to rob him blind. He didn’t think you would do that, what reason would you have? Name anything on this Earth and James would have it in your hands the very next day. He was clutching the steering wheel with a vice-like grip that was turning his knuckles white. When James got home, he looked on terrified at how it was left. He called your name out while he ran around looking for you and Bucky. Once he found it empty, he started dialing 911. You both were missing.

James was tapping his foot waiting for the operator when he saw it. The picture album that you begged him for when you first found out you were pregnant. It was gone.

The metal hand clutching the phone crushed right as he heard the female voice on the other side greet James. You and Bucky weren’t kidnapped, you had run away.

James went downstairs to call his friends, Steve and Natasha. He was going to need their help tracking down his bratty wife. She was smart, he’d give her that, but she’d have to try a lot harder if she wanted to get away from an ex super soldier.

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@jtargaryen18 @coconutqueen21 @collette04 @stayhazey @nsfwsebbie @official-and-unstable-satan

#non con #dub con #dark!fic #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!mcu #dark!marvel

414 notes · View notes

raiseyourcups · 4 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter One

Pairings: Din Djarin x Original Character (eventually, maybe) Warnings: None for this chapter Word count: 2.3k Tags: Threatening remarks, very vague mention of sexual remarks Also on A03 Masterlist

The Mandalorian sat silently as he waited for Greef Karga to pull out the pucks they both knew he had. The silence surrounding them was somehow deafening even with the rest of the cantina bustling. Karga let out an annoyed huff as he placed several pucks onto the table. “I don’t have anything interesting, just bail jumpers and a...trafficker.”

“I’ll take them all.” The Mandalorian didn’t care to question what made Karga worried about giving him a puck for a trafficker. A bounty was a bounty. He reached forward to pull the pucks towards him when a hand slammed down onto one of the pucks before the Mandalorian could even touch it. His hand immediately went to his blaster, ready to shoot the person that was trying to take his bounties.

“Traffickers and slavers are mine, Karga and you know that.” A feminine voice spoke from beside the Mandalorian causing him to tense up. He didn’t know how someone had managed to sneak up on him and he didn’t like it. Karga winced, his gaze on the table, before he looked back up. He hadn’t heard the cantina door open or else he would have made sure it wasn’t her that walked in.

“Aili! I didn’t think you would be back so soon otherwise I would have saved it for you,” Karga plastered a smile on his face as he looked up at Aili. Both the Mandalorian and Aili could see how forced it was and both were annoyed by it. The only difference was that only one of them was visibly showing it.

“Cut the shit, Karga. You just didn’t want to say no to your golden boy here,” Aili all but growled out as she nodded her head in the Mandalorian’s direction. Her hand involuntarily gripped the puck tighter in her rising anger.

“The puck is mine. Move your hand." The Mandalorian took the chance to glance over the person trying to take one of his pucks. She wasn't someone who looked like they would be a bounty hunter. She looked too...he hated to use the word delicate but he would be surprised if she even had any scars to prove her abilities. She was a lot shorter than him, standing almost as tall as him as he sat. His eyes narrowed when he saw the blood red cuirass underneath her cloak. That looked like...

Aili glared down at the Mandalorian, “We can take this outside and fight for it but just so you know, I’ll kick your ass and the puck will be mine anyway. So save both of us the time and trouble.”

He let out a scoff that was mostly hidden by his voice modulator. At the sound Aili raised an eyebrow but made no move towards her own blaster, a mistake that he would take advantage of if they did end up fighting over the puck. “Mando, I would take her offer to walk away. She took down three of my guys for looking at her the wrong way,” Karga said. He really didn’t want to clean up any more messes and he didn’t want to run the risk of losing either of his best hunters. The others in the Guild couldn’t catch nearly as many bounties as the two before him.

“I took them down for what they were saying about their female bounties." Aili didn't elaborate nor would she have if either of them asked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she meant. The Mandalorian couldn’t find it in himself to fault her for that, he probably would have done the same thing if he had been there. Taking advantage of the fact that the Mandalorian was distracted, Aili picked up the puck and turned to leave the cantina. "I'll be back in a few days, try not to give away any more of my pucks."

Aili left the cantina before either Karga or the Mandalorian could say anything to her. She still had to gather supplies before she left the planet and another errand that needed to be done as well. Haggling with the different vendors took less time than usual but Aili wasn’t about to complain. The less time she wasted doing that, the sooner she could get out of there.

She was getting ready to walk to her next stop when she saw the Mandalorian leave the cantina. With a muttered curse she turned on her heel to speak to a random vendor and subtly watched as he walked in the direction she had been planning to go. He paused by a curtain, glancing around the market to see if anyone was watching. His gaze seemed to linger on Aili longer than it did on anyone else and she tried to appear nonchalant as she bartered with the vendor. It looked like she was going to have to wait for him to leave now. She paid for whatever she had grabbed and made her way to her ship. He would probably be down there for a few hours which gave her plenty of time to put away her supplies and make it to where she usually hid before he came out.

Aili stood in the shadows waiting for the Mandalorian to come out of the entrance. She was almost glad that her training had made the hours pass by easily. Almost. She still hated the training she had gone through with a burning passion. A quiet shuffle brought her out of her memories and she pressed herself further into the wall behind her, just in case. The Mandalorian walked past her hiding spot without stopping but she still waited a few minutes before she moved.

She didn’t go in the same way he had, that entrance always had a guard stationed at the bottom of the stairs. She went around the building, glancing around to make sure no one had followed her before she jumped down the storm drain. Her feet hit the ground as soft as they could but Aili still paused for a second to see if anyone had heard her. She continued on her way quickly.

The path she followed was familiar to her now and she knew when to hide behind something to stay undetected. There weren’t that many Mandalorians on patrol at the moment but that didn’t mean she let her guard down. She had been told that she didn’t need to sneak around but it was a habit now and it was better this way. So long as there was an unknown price on her head, she wouldn’t let anyone know about the location of the Mandalorian covert. She could hear the sounds of fighting and knew the children were probably getting trained. The lack of guards on patrol made more sense now. Training took precedence over patrol every time.

If the Armorer was surprised to see her, she didn’t make it obvious. She simply tilted her head in greeting and waited for Aili to take her usual seat before taking her own seat. “I did not expect to see you so soon, your ade are still in training.”

Aili held back a sigh knowing that it was useless to argue with the Armorer’s choice of words. She took out her extra pouch of credits, sliding it towards the other woman. The Armorer made no move to take the bag, waiting for Aili to speak.

“I had a few easy bounties, paid more than enough to have extra for the other foundlings.” Aili knew the Armorer would use most of the credits for her supposed ade but she had made sure to add more credits than usual. She didn’t know exactly how many foundlings were in the covert but she knew it couldn’t be easy to keep them all fed with only a single bounty hunter in their tribe. They were part of the same Guild and she knew that pickings were getting slimmer with every solar cycle. She stayed seated for a few more moments before standing, giving the Armorer one more nod and then she turned on her heel to go.

She probably should have been paying attention to the quiet that had taken over the covert. Training was finished and the foundlings would be playing around now. But she had let her guard down knowing that she was safe down in the sewers.

“Ori’vod!” Several familiar voices called out. Aili spun around just in time to catch Jaesa who jumped into her arms. Shaeli was the next to wrap her arms around her waist followed by Sula. Madsin was kind enough to settle for standing in front of them, a small smile on her face. Aili let Jaesa stay in her arms for a few more seconds before placing her back onto the ground.

“We should head to our room before the others come out,” Madsin said knowing that Aili didn’t want others to know that someone not part of their covert knew their location. Some of them were very traditional which could lead to trouble. The five of them hurried to the room that the four girls shared. Shaeli and Jaesa jumped onto their bed, large smiles on their faces as they bounced in excitement. It had been a while since Aili had been able to come down to visit them, bounties keeping her off planet more often. Once the curtain that acted as their door was tied shut Aili took the chance to look the four girls over.

Madsin had turned 16 a few months ago and she already towered over all of them at 5’8” but she usually didn’t mention it. At some point after Aili’s last visit she had cut her hair short, the dark brown waves brushing against the top of her shoulders. Sula had shot up too, almost as tall as AIli now but still a few inches shorter. She was still letting her blonde hair grow, it was now past her shoulders but someone had given her bangs that she had pinned to the side. Shaeli’s dark, almost black, hair was the longest and pulled into two long braids that hung over her shoulders. Jaesa’s light brown hair was the curliest and always hard to tame but someone, probably Sula, had pinned it out of her face.

“Do you wanna see what we practiced today?” Shaeli asked, bouncing even more in excitement. Her and Jaesa had finally been allowed to join the training. Before they had only been given verbal instructions even though they had already learned some things in their old home.

“Be careful,” Aili said before gesturing for the two youngest to go ahead and show her what they had learned that day. Madsin and Sula climbed onto their beds so they were out of the way. Aili watched as Shaeli and Jaesa showed off the moves they had learned in training that day, a small smile on her face. There were matching smiles on Madsin and Sula’s faces. They were the only ones who really remembered the training that they had gone through. They were all glad that the youngest ones were getting the chance to learn from people that wouldn’t purposely hurt them in the guise of teaching them.

Aili spent more time with them than she meant to but she kept making excuses to herself to extend her visit. There were too many Mandalorians wandering around now, she felt guilty for not spending more time with them, she didn’t want to run into their bounty hunter. If she were being honest with herself they were all lies, she never really wanted to leave them behind but she couldn’t take them with her and she couldn’t become a Mandalorian. Eventually though she had to leave, she had a bounty to catch and they had to sleep.

She tucked Shaeli and Jaesa into the bed they shared while Madsin and Sula laid down on their own beds. Thankfully the training earlier and their little demonstration had tired the youngest out and they fell asleep without fighting it. Aili let a small smile cross her face again as she brushed the curls away from Jaesa’s face. She sat on the edge of the bed for a few more seconds before letting out a sigh and getting up. Sula had already fallen asleep, or she was pretending so she didn’t have to say goodbye, but Madsin was sitting up against the wall.

“You know the Armorer would let you stay if you asked,” Madsin said, looking at Aili with a single eyebrow raised. She understood why her sister wouldn’t swear the Creed but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t stay with them anyway. Sure there were some overly traditional members but the Armorer was open-minded. “No one would bother you if they knew you had her permission.”

Aili knew that. Had known that for a few years now and yet she couldn’t do it. She didn’t know if it was the freedom of being on her own ship or not wanting to run the risk of becoming more attached. Or maybe she had lost the ability to settle down somewhere between shooting a blaster for the first time and her first time killing someone. With one last tight smile to Madsin, Aili left their room with a heavy feeling in her chest.

The Armorer was still at her forge when Aili started to creep past and she turned from the flame to look at her. For a moment Aili thought the woman was going to say something to her but she just watched as she walked away. She could still feel the other woman’s gaze on her even when she pulled herself out of the storm drain.

Night had fallen which made it easy for her to leave the alley without worrying about someone seeing her and she hurried to where her ship was waiting for her. Leaving Nevarro kept getting harder but she had a job to do and would keep doing it until they no longer needed her. With one last long sigh Aili got into her ship and prepared to hunt her quarry.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #my writing

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annewritesfic · 3 years

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Happy Endings Don’t Exist

y’all i’m so attached to this au-

anyways! based on chapter 58 of cress by marissa meyer!

tw: discussion of blood, violence, chess has a pretty gorey nightmare in the first section (you can skip the first few paragraphs and pick up at “Chess opened her eyes with a gasp” to miss it), blades, pain medication, mention of attempted murder/murder, hallucinations

word count: 2275

In Chess's dreams, she was being chased by a wolf.

She was running through a field of crops with thick mud that sucked at her shoes, fog soaking her jacket and leggings, her lungs burning and her eyes stinging and her heart thundering. Dry leaves crunched underfoot, quickly being swallowed by the mud, and something in the back of her head dimly registered that she was being chased through the sugar beet fields on the Benoit farm back home. Even as she thought it, something began to glow in the distance - the lights of a farmhouse. Her house. The house she’d grown up in, the house that had always been safe and warm. If she could just make it to the farmhouse, then everything would be okay.

But no matter how hard and fast Chess ran, the farmhouse didn’t get closer. It almost seemed that for every step she took, the farmhouse was three steps farther away. She might’ve been running for hours or days or months or years, but the farmhouse got no closer. Eventually, the fog closed in and swallowed the farmhouse, the warm glow blinking out of existence.

She tripped, landing on her hands and knees with a shout of pain, mud sticking to her clothes and caking her braid. The damp wetness soaked into her bones, making them ache from the cold. She looked up, and just a few feet away was the wolf, crouched low to the ground, eyes flashing with hunger and anger. Her hands desperately searched for a weapon on the ground, something, anything, as the wolf got closer, and closer, and closer…

There. Something smooth and hard under her fingers. It was surprisingly easy to yank from the mud. She barely had time to look at it, to register the blade glistening in the moonlight under the layer of mud, the sanded wooden handle - an axe - before the wolf leaped in the air, jaws unhinged, sharp teeth reflecting in the axe blade. Chess lifted the axe reflectively, bracing herself, just moments before the wolf would’ve landed on her chest and ripped her to shreds.

The axe cut clean through the wolf, slicing it in two pieces from snout to tail. Its blood splashed all over Chess’s face and chest, and she heard twin thumps as the two halves fell on either side of her head. A choking sob fought its way up her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, sure she was going to throw up.

Then the two halves of the wolf began to move, shifting beside her into two human-like shapes, each wearing half of the pelt. The fog began to clear as two hands reached towards her, and Chess stifled a cry - her grandmother and Cairo, welcoming her home.

Chess opened her eyes with a gasp.

Instead of her grandmother’s old military jacket and Cairo’s shining eyes, all she saw were steel bars. The air was filled with the scent of ferns and moss. The chatter of birds was so overwhelming she almost covered her ears.

A soft yip came from somewhere to the side, sounding concerned - the white wolf. Chess rolled over to look at him - on the other side of the pathway, the wolf sat, watching her. He tilted his head a little bit, and it struck her how much he almost seemed like the neighbors’ dogs back home.

Home…

It wasn’t the first time she thought it, but Chess was still shocked by the near-physical pain in her chest, the longing for the rolling fields and blue skies and familiar faces. She wanted to go home.

“He likes you,” said a voice.

Chess inhaled sharply and sat up, eyes searching wildly for the source of the voice. A girl about her age was sitting in her cage, hands folded in her lap, watching her curiously, close enough to touch. Chess tried to move away, but pain shot through her hand, and she fell back to the ground with a hiss of pain. Her hand was wrapped in bandages, but her pinky was the worst of it - during her trial, Levana had forced her hand to pick up a hatchet and use it on the pinky finger of her other hand, taking it off at the second knuckle. The pain had been bad enough that she’d wished to pass out, although she hadn’t. But while that was the worst of her pain now, it wasn’t all of it - there were scratches and cuts and bruises all over her entire body, some from the scuffle on the satellite and some from that awful Lunar boy she’d stayed with for several days and most of the aches from sleeping on hard floors for more nights than she could count.

The strange girl didn’t react to Chess’s fear. She sat quietly against the wall, her back straight, looking interested and curious. She clearly wasn’t another prisoner - she wore a pale pink dress that looked out of place against the dark regolith Chess’s cage was carved from. Her honey-brown hair tumbled around her shoulders in healthy, shiny curls, half of it tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were a pale blue, sparkling with excitement, and Chess realized that her left eye had three scars below it, cutting in straight, parallel lines down her cheek - almost like perpetual tear tracks.

She was the most beautiful person Chess had ever seen.

And it was that beauty that made Chess realize she was wearing another glamour - another trick.

“Ryu and I were wondering if that was a very good dream or a very bad one?” the girl asked in a sweet voice. “You were mumbling to yourself quite a lot.”

Chess pushed away the lingering memory of the dream, the image of Cairo and her grandmother smiling at her. “Who the hell are you? And-and who’s Ryu?”

The girl smiled. “Ryu is the wolf, silly!” She turned to look at the wolf across the path. “Haven’t you been neighbors for four months now? Ryu, why haven’t you introduced yourself?”

The wolf blinked big yellow eyes at her.

The girl looked back at Chess and leaned forward, like she was sharing a big secret. “And I am your new best friend. But you mustn't tell anyone, because all the guards think that I am your master and you are my pet - they don’t know that my pets are my dearest friends of all! We will fool all of them, you and I.”

Chess struggled to comprehend what the girl was saying. None of it made sense, or answered Chess’s question.

The girl reached for a basket beside her that Chess hadn’t noticed before. It seemed like a picnic basket, lined with some soft, silvery material. “I thought that today, we could perhaps play doctor and patient! I’ll be the doctor, of course. You seem in need of some care.”

Chess sat up and pressed herself against the opposite wall. “You’re not a doctor.”

“I know. That’s why it’s pretend.” The girl smiled wider. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“No, actually, I’m really not.” Chess’s fingers pressed against the rough stone floor. “I’ve been mentally and physically tortured, I’m starving, I’m thirsty, I’m locked up in a cage in a goddamn zoo-”

“Menagerie.”

“-and I’m hurting in a thousand different places. And now some crazy girl comes in here and wants to play make-believe? Like we’re best friends or some shit?” Chess scoffed. “I’m good. Go away.”

The girl sighed and leaned her chin on her hand, resting her elbow on her knee. “You shouldn’t call me crazy. The guards don’t like that. Even though it’s true.”

Neither of them broke the silence for a moment.

“I know it’s true. You want to know how I know?” The girl leaned forward again. “The palace walls have been bleeding for years, but I am the only one who sees.”

More silence.

“No one believes me, no matter how many times I say it,” the girl continued. “Sometimes I can’t help but step in it, and then I track bloody footprints everywhere, and I worry that perhaps a wolf soldier will smell it and come for me. But if the blood was real, don’t you think the palace maids would clean it up?”

Chess tried and failed to think of an answer.

The girl pulled a small box wrapped in ribbon. “These are for you. Doctor’s orders are to take one pill twice a day.” She handed Chess the box with a wink. “It isn’t real medicine, of course. It’s just candy. Sour apple petites - they’re my favorite.”

“I’m not eating one of those.”

“Why not? It’s a gift.” The girl opened the box and held it out to Chess - four small, round red candies, shiny and smooth. Chess didn’t move, and after a moment, the girl set the open box down on the floor between them.

“What do you want from me?” Chess asked.

“I want to be friends.”

“A friendship based on lies?” Chess laughed sharply, humorlessly. “Of course you don’t mind that. You’re Lunar. Lying is all you know how to do.”

The girl looked at her lap. “I’ve only ever had two friends - two human friends. One became a pile of girl-shaped ashes when we were very little, and the other has gone missing. I don’t know if he’ll ever return.” She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I asked the stars to send me a sign that he was all right, and the next day was a trial like any other trial, except standing before me was an Earthen girl who’d seen him.”

“Can you make sense? Please?”

The girl leaned forward, closer than she had before, close enough that Chess could almost feel her breath across her face. “Is he all right? Sybil said he was still alive, that he probably was supposed to be piloting that ship, but she didn’t say whether he’d been injured. Do you think he’s safe?”

“Who?”

The girl smiled again, almost wistfully. “Clark Winslett. Sybil’s guard. The man with the blond hair and the kind eyes and the smile that holds the sun. Is he all right?”

Chess blinked, baffled. She didn’t remember much from the fight on the Rampion, and what few memories she did have were blurry. But while her focus had been mostly on the thaumaturge, she did faintly remember a blond guard.

But the smile that holds the sun? Bullshit.

“I remember two people that tried to kill us,” she muttered.

“And he was one of them?” the girl pressed, seemingly unconcerned with the killing part.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The girl smiled gleefully. “Did he look okay?”

“He looked like he was trying to kill me,” Chess said. “But I bet my friends killed him first. That’s our typical procedure for people who work for your queen.”

The girl’s smile vanished. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. And he deserved it.”

The girl began to shake, almost hyperventilating. The wolf - Ryu - pawed at the bars of his enclosure, whimpering. Chess tamped down her guilt and told herself she wouldn’t call for the guard’s help.

The girl got her breathing under control and sat up, her hand resting on her basket. “I see. Well, I-I should go.” She moved as if to stand, but then stopped. “I wasn’t lying about the bleeding walls. Soon, the palace will be so soaked with blood that Artemisia Lake will be so red, even Earthens will see it.”

“I don’t care,” Chess said. “And I’m not going to feel sorry for you. Your glamours and your mind control - you people have built your entire civilization around those lies, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

The girl crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Chess, but said nothing for almost a minute. Chess lifted her chin and looked the girl in the eye, refusing to be afraid.

“I haven’t used my glamour since I was twelve years old,” the girl said at last. “That’s why I have these visions. Why I’m going mad.”

Chess didn’t show her surprise as the steel bars of the cage opened and the girl ducked out, taking her basket but leaving the candy. “Your Highness,” said the guard as he closed and relocked the cage door.

Chess listened to the footprints retreat down the path, staring at the candies, her heart thundering in her ears.

Your Highness.

Princess Annleigh.

The queen’s stepdaughter.

Annleigh was rumored to be more beautiful than Levana herself - which was why the queen had given her those scars. Even Earth knew about her, about her unspeakable beauty, about her scars… though Chess had never heard about the girl going mad.

The candies lay in front of her still, tempting her. Chess had no reason to trust her, but she’d finished her one small meal hours ago, and she wouldn’t be fed until the next day. Her stomach began to ache, and her head spun, and while she was proud of how long she made it, eventually she reached for the box and lifted one of the candies from the shreds of paper it was nestled in. It was smooth as glass between her teeth and cracked easily, the warm, melty center sweet and sour on her tongue. Nothing, nothing, had ever tasted so good.

But it was nothing compared to the sensation that expanded through her chest, down to her legs and into her fingers. A feeling of warmth, of comfort, that took her pain away with it.

Chess managed a smile up at the glass ceiling, at the stars beyond it. Perhaps the princess wasn’t so cruel after all.

#we are the tigers #chess watt #annleigh o'daniel #blood tw #violence tw #nightmare tw #drugs tw #murder tw #ask to tag #clarkleigh #the lunar chronicles

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queenk00k · 4 years

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but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 3)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 2K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

the one where JJ throws caution to the wind (but when was he ever cautious anyway?)

JJ has woken up in pretty strange locations before. The porch steps of the Chateau, the hull of the HMS Pogue, the Boneyard. Nothing was stranger than waking up on a couch in a Kook’s bedroom, who he’d really only spoken to twice. The couch was surprisingly soft, and JJ finds that he actually had one of the best sleeps he’s had in, well, he can’t quite remember how long.

That doesn’t erase how completely fucking weird it is that he not only went home with a Kook but spent the whole night there.

JJ sits up and is quietly thankful Scarlett appears to have been awake for a while; she’s dressed and perched on the end of her bed in a similar position to the night before. She’s also biting her fingernails, chipping away the black nail polish with her teeth. This brings JJ some comfort – she’s clearly feeling as unsettled as he is.

He clears his throat and Scarlett turns to look at him, smiling cautiously. “Hey,” she says. “You feeling okay?”

JJ nods and stands up. “Yeah, yeah I’m good thanks.”

“Sleep alright?”

“Mmmhmm.”

An awkward pause.

“Listen,” JJ says as he moves towards the door. “I really appreciate what you did for me and all but I gotta go. Honestly, I don’t understand why you let me stay on your couch-”

Scarlett scoffs. “You really think that low of me? You crashed your motorbike in the middle of the night and looked another blow from death. What was I going to do? Leave you on the side of the road?”

JJ is taken aback; he didn’t expect her to answer like that.

“You’re a Kook, I’m a Pogue…you know how it is.” JJ shrugs.

Scarlett rolls her deep brown eyes. “That shit is so stupid. We’re not all that bad.”

JJ opens his mouth to reply something along the lines of “well, in all of my experiences-” but the sound of tires screeching on gravel outside diverts his attention.

Scarlett’s eyes widen and she grabs JJ’s arm tightly. He clenches his jaw and forces himself not to wince; she grabbed one of his darker bruises. He gently removes his arm from her grip and Scarlett looks at him apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just my parents are home. You gotta go, now! Go out the window, quick quick,” Scarlett says as she frantically ushers JJ to the window. JJ’s startled by the sudden change in pace but honestly, he’s pretty thankful for an excuse to get out of there. He’s never felt comfortable around Kooks.

You can hardly blame him.

Scarlett helps JJ push the window up far enough for him to climb through (his arm is feeling pretty busted from the events of the previous night) and he doesn’t hesitate in sticking a leg through to climb out onto the roof.

“Wait, wait,” Scarlett says. “Is that it? You’re just gonna leave?”

JJ looks at her quizzically. “I mean, yeah. What were you hoping for? A goodbye kiss?” He taunts.

Scarlett makes a face at him. JJ can’t tell if it’s disgust or disappointment.

“No. Can I at least give you this?” She reaches into her bedside drawer and pulls out a wad of cash; JJ estimates it to be at least $200.

“And why would you give me that?”

“You seem like you need it,” Scarlett replies, shrugging.

Wrong thing to say.

JJ narrows his eyes and replies, “I’m not your charity case.”

Without giving Scarlett a chance to reply (JJ has an old habit of needing the last word), he scoots out of the window and down the gabled roof of her stupid fucking mansion.

He thinks he’d be content with never seeing her again.

JJ eventually manages to drag himself to his bike and take off towards the Chateau slowly, his bones aching (but not before kicking down the realtor’s sign – if the Camerons have more to worry about then he figured they won’t care if Rose’s frozen smile was kicked in). He’s being more careful on the ride over this time, not willing to repeat the spill from the night before. JJ is lost deep in thought on the way back to the Chateau and before he knows it, he’s riding up the driveway, the bike’s tires kicking up dirt as he skids to a stop.

JJ hates that for a second, he expects John B to emerge on the patio, smiling and holding out a Coors Light, like he’d done so many other times before.

JJ clears his throat and shakes his head, willing the thought of his friend to dissipate. He steps off his bike, wincing, and makes his way up to the house. JJ has every intention of making it all the way inside, but he stops at the steps, lump forming in his throat, and sits down.

Eyes brimming with tears that are close to spilling over, JJ sighs and puts his head in his hands, taking off his cap and throwing it into the dirt.

Where the hell are Pope and Kiara? JJ thinks. It’s been well over a day and a half since he stormed out of the Heyward backyard and gee, fuck him for assuming his friends might come looking for him or something drastic like that.

JJ pulls his outdated iPhone 6 (a hand-me-down from Kiara when hers got updated – pity it didn’t come with her unlimited data plan) with its smashed screen and broken home button.

No texts, no missed calls.

JJ presses the lock-button, so he doesn’t have to look at the Pogues’ smiling faces in his wallpaper, and tries to reason with himself.

Pope told you he was going to be busy with his interview, you shouldn’t be mad at him. That’s fair enough, he warned you.

Nah dude fuck that, he lied to you! He was sneaking off and banging Kiara.

Speaking of Kie, why doesn’t she want to see me? I thought better of her, I thought we were supposed to be best friends.

Her parents have her on lockdown-

When has that stopped her before?

JJ grunts in frustration and picks his hat back up off the ground, jamming it onto his head over his sweaty blonde hair. He clearly wasn’t going to solve anything sitting here.

JJ’s new habit seems to be wandering around the island like a lost boy, as he finds himself walking along the beach, kicking up sand with the toes of his work boots.

He’s not sure what his plan is – maybe he’ll run into Kie or Pope or fuck, literally anyone he knows. What JJ does know is that there’s no chance he’ll run into any Kooks on this side of the island, so at least he won’t have to deal with their pompous asses.

Or so he thinks.

JJ makes it halfway down the stretch of beach before he suddenly hears a sweet, but hoarse voice behind him.

“And here I was thinking I’d never see you again.”

JJ whips his head around and fails to suppress his groan at seeing Scarlett in front of him, dressed this time in a red crop-top and cut-off denim shorts. He resists the urge to run his eyes over her – he’s only human after all, and a teenage boy at that.

“Are you stalking me now?” He asks bitterly but makes no attempt to walk away from her.

Scarlett crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You wish, Maybank.”

“What are you doing here then?”

Scarlett sighs and sits down on a sand dune, motioning JJ to sit down next to her. He briefly considers telling her she’s dreaming but hey, once again she’s giving him attention and being nice and honestly that’s all he needs right now. Some company that’s not going to make him feel shittier about his life. So, he relents and sits down beside her in the warm sand.

Scarlett leans back on one elbow and moves her sunglasses to the top of her head as she replies, “less chance of running into Kooks here.”

“But they’re your-

“-my people?” Scarlett scoffs. “Hardly. Only thing I have in common with them is our family money, everything else is completely at odds.”

JJ smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It feels nice.

“I’ve heard this story before,” he says. “I’m not much of a reader but “rich girl who’s actually bad ass” sounds pretty familiar.”

Scarlett waves her hand. “Yeah yeah, it’s all true! I even have a dark back story – I’d make a great main character.”

“Let me guess, you’re adopted, and your real family was murdered by some unknown killer.”

“My younger sister died in a car accident, and I was never the favourite child. My parents shipped me off to boarding school, so they didn’t have to deal with me,” Scarlett replies, looking directly at JJ.

It seems an inappropriate time for him to be distracted by how beautiful Scarlett’s dark brown eyes look in the sun.

And yet.

JJ’s eyes widen. “Wait, you’re serious? Fuuuuck, I am so sorry…I had no idea,” he says, grimacing. He’s annoyed at himself – he was just trying to banter, but it’s all fun and games until someone drops a bomb like that.

Scarlett smiles and touches his arm delicately. JJ first notices how cool her hand is, despite the humid day, and then notices she has a fresh coat of dark red polish on her nails.

He tenses, not used to someone being so blatantly touchy like this, least of all a Kook. Scarlett notices and moves her hand back onto the sand, looking at him like she’s about to ask him what the problem is but clearly decides against it.

“It’s fine, honestly. Happened a long time ago and they leave me to my own devices a lot, which makes it easier to do whatever I want.”

JJ nods in understanding. “I get that.”

There’s a comfortable pause before Scarlett abruptly stands up, dusting the sand off her denim shorts. JJ looks at her questioningly but stands up too.

“Enough of this emotional shit,” Scarlett says. “I wanted to talk to you to a) apologise for my behaviour this morning-”

“-it’s fine-”

“-and b) invite you out tonight.”

“Out?” JJ asks.

Scarlett nods. “I think we’re both in need of some fun and some company. Why don’t you come to mine tonight? My parents are out again, and they’ve got a pretty sweet liquor cabinet.”

JJ can’t believe he’s saying this, but he says, “I’ll think about it.”

Scarlett shrugs. “Close enough. See you tonight, or not,” she says and blows him a kiss before turning and walking away down the beach.

JJ stands there stunned for a moment (definitely because of the sheer absurdity of the situation and not because he checked out her ass as she walked away) and thinks over his options.

He’s not sure he wants to willingly wander back into Kook territory for the second night in a row, never mind go into one of their houses.

Although, he thinks to himself. Where’s the harm in spending time with Scarlett for the time being until Pope and Kie come around? Because they will, right?

Besides, Scarlett’s pretty nice, pretty hot and she’s willing to hang out with him and give him free booze. What could go wrong?

JJ’s made up his mind and, perhaps against his better judgement (which was truly shaky to begin with), he finds himself on the roof of Scarlett’s mansion again that night, tapping on her bedroom window.

He starts to worry he got the wrong room or, even worse, the wrong house, when she doesn’t answer straight away but all of a sudden the curtains are pulled back and Scarlett’s excited face appears on the other side of the glass.

She yanks open the window rather haphazardly (JJ suspects she’s gotten into her parents’ grog early), the cool glow of the moonlight making her teeth an iridescent white as she grins widely up at JJ.

“So glad you could make it, Maybank. Let’s get this party started.”

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

A Wife’s Duty [2] h.s.

[Warnings] a f’d up fanfic based on the handmaid’s tale, commander x wife, harry styles x named oc, noncon spanking, abuse, verbal abuse

In which Harry establishes her place in his home.

check out my my #masterlist for part one!

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Part of her felt violated. Like Harry had reached into the darkest part of her mind. Of her soul. She thought she’d feel clean and rejuvenated with the Lord’s spirit after consummating her marriage with her husband. Instead, she felt dirty. Dirty for letting someone touch her in that way and dirty for feeling so much pleasure from it.

The next morning, Harry was not lying beside her. She debated continuing to lie in bed but the sun was already up and she didn’t yet know what would be expected of her here. She didn’t want to make a bad impression by rising too late.

She found clothes waiting for her on the dresser, most likely laid out by Imogene. She carried them to the bathroom and as she glanced at herself, she noticed how disheveled she was. Her hair was a wild mess, her nightgown was riding all the way up, and bruises decorated her waist and thighs. Her neck was bright red and, as she lifted her gown, she noticed her neck was too.

He might as well have given her tattoos.

She frowned at herself. Had he really held her that hard? She wondered if she had left any marks on him.

Last night, Harry was an animal and she was the sacrificial lamb that was thrown into his cave. The moment was only awkward on her end and it made her wonder how many times he had done something like that with another girl. He had her first kiss and virginity. What did she have from him?

Ember showered and dressed in a cream-colored knee-length skirt and a pastel blue sweater. She wondered if it is a turtle neck was a coincidence. Either way, she was grateful because she didn’t feel like parading around her new home like a common whore. No matter how Harry treated her.

In a pair of beige flats, she headed down the stairs, once again staring at that beautiful chandelier.

The aroma of cooking breakfast filled the air and she followed it to where Harry showed her husband was in the dining room. At the head of the table sat her husband, eyes focused on the newspaper in front of him. There was a placement sad beside him so she assumed it was for her but, still, she stood in the entrance waiting for him to acknowledge her.

It seemed he was already done with his breakfast, toast crumbs sitting on his plate and his coffee cup empty. He looked over his newspaper and his eyes raked over the girl in front of him. His wife. Newly deflowered, “Are you not hungry?” He asked, expectantly.

She blushed. Gosh, it seemed like she couldn’t make any of the right moves with him. She walked over to the seat beside him and pulled out the chair before sitting down, “I’m sorry for being late,” She folded her napkin neatly on her lap.

“I’m just early,” He spoke concisely as Imogen appeared to say good morning and to refill Harry’s cup of coffee. Ember smiled at the older woman and, despite how she felt like a new person from yesterday, the woman returned her warm smile.

There was lots of food spread over the table, more than both of them could probably eat. She hoped it wasn’t going to waste. Still, she filled her plate and began to fill the hole in her stomach.

“Alec is out back,” Imogene spoke to Harry who didn’t even lift his head from his newspaper, “It seems our new little filly is a bit of a handful. But she seems playful.”

“Tell him I’ll be out in a moment,” Imogene only nodded.

Swallowing a piece of bacon, Ember looked to Harry, “A filly?”

“Yes,” He looked up to see she was still confused and sighed, “A baby horse. A girl.”

Ember’s eyes seemed to widen a bit, “You have a baby horse?”

He began to fold his newspaper, “I have several horses. But you, Ember, have a baby horse,” She almost choked on her food.

“I-I what?”

“A wedding present from my uncle. She was born three weeks ago,” Ember blinked, eyes wide. She smiled but part of her was scared of smiling. Smiling meant she was okay with this. Smiling meant she was accepting a future here, “I’m assuming you’re happy about it.”

Ember nodded, “Yes, of course. No one’s ever gotten me . . . anything before. Let alone a horse. I cannot wait to meet your uncle, he seems like a kind man.”

Harry didn’t comment on that and she couldn’t read his eyes for a sign of anything. He was really good at hiding things.

“Who is Alec?” Ember asked next.

Harry frowned before taking a sip of his coffee, “He tends to the land and the animals. You can meet him after breakfast. If you finish anytime soon,” With that, she stopped talking and finished the rest of her plate.

Ember named her Blue. She wasn’t blue. She was blonde actually but she liked the name and neither Harry nor Alec protested it. She stood behind a tall white fence, watching Alec, as he played with the filly. She was still very wild, running away when she called him and biting at him when he got too close.

Alec was handsome with reddish-brown hair, freckles that decorated his nose and a nice smile. He seemed like someone she might’ve been friends with if she hadn’t been shipped off to Haynes Girls Reformatory at such an early age. There were no boys there, she almost felt weird when Alec was so nice to her.

Alec led the baby horse closer to us, “Here, you can pet her, Ember. I’ll put my hand down to show her it’s okay and then you can touch the same spot, okay?” She nodded eagerly.

A quick glance at Harry showed he was hesitant but Ember was too excited to care. She reached over the fence to place a hand on the filly, right where Alec’s had been, and gave her a soft pat, “See, she likes you, you’ll be riding her in no time.”

“I can ride her?” She looked at Alec with a childlike wonder.

“When she’s much older and trained. And after you’re trained too Ember,” Harry interjected. Her smile fell a little bit but she just continued to pet the horse.

I didn’t seem like Harry wanted to stick around for much longer after that. He escorted her back to the house, she waved goodbye to Alec, and he went off to do whatever the Commander's did. She thought she should be more curious about what he does but, honestly, it was the last thing on her mind.

She didn’t understand how the man could go from making her claim she was his to being cold and distant. She was more curious about the man beneath the mask of the Commander.

She found a small library on the second floor, each wall covered in a giant oak bookcase and a comfortable seating area by the window. She simply picked a book, a classic one that would make her look smart in front of whatever posh people Harry associated with. She unleashed the tight bun her hair was in and relaxed. A hundred pages later and she was dozing off.

She awoke to a car pulling in front of the home. Harry was back from the meeting with the guy on the phone from yesterday, she assumed. She was about to begin another hundred pages when a thunderous boom roared through the house, the slamming of a door.

Ember sat up from her spot, shutting her book slowly, before going to peak out the door. She can hear that downstairs Harry was yelling about something and Imogene was trying to calm him. He spoke some cursed words and Ember wondered how he could speak that way in front of such a nice woman.

Ember left the room, tiptoeing downstairs so she could see what was going on.

“What do they want from me, huh? To roll over like a dog! I sit on committees, I run campaigns, I go to their charity fundraisers, hell, I even got fucking married. And the comments keep coming. They won’t ever stop!”

“Harry, please, if you don’t go along with them-”

“I know, I know. Political suicide. It’s not what my mother would have wanted, I know. I fucking know-”

Ember rounded the corner into the kitchen, “You shouldn’t speak to her that way,” The words left Ember’s lips before she could stop them. His eyes narrowed her and even Imogene seemed to freeze.

“What did you say?” Harry seemed to snarl, taking a step closer to her.

“I-I mean … I-I wanted to help. I understand that you’re angry, Harry-”

“Commander,” he interrupted with venom in his tone, “I’m your Commander. You will address me as such. You will not help because you know nothing. You will not even take a single breath unless I approve it. And you’ll return to your room without another word, Ember.” He wasn’t shouting anymore though she felt a pounding in her ears. What was she to do? He looked like he was going to explode at any moment.

Her eyes began to well up with tears and she turned to walk away. She covered her mouth, trying to hold in a sob, as she hurried up the stairs.

Imogene was not the one who gave her the information that she was being summoned to Harry’s study. It was a younger servant, one who had a scar over her left eyes that told me that it was missing. She wondered who had been able to hurt a young girl in that way.

His study was opposite the library and two giant dark wood doors separated it from the rest of the house. Ember knocked with a trembling hand and she heard him murmur to come inside.

Ember slipped inside, her head so low that she couldn’t even take in the vast room. She felt her eyes on him and she shook even more.

He sighed, “You think I’m a monster, don’t you?” It wasn’t really phrased as a question.

“No, Commander,” she lied.

“Imogene thinks I am. Half of one at least. She’s understanding of my moods. She raised me so she’s accustomed to it. My intention was not to disrespect her and she knows that “Ember was quiet. Maybe that kind smile she received from Imogene meant more than she originally thought. The woman probably knew there were bruises beneath my sweater, “If there’s one thing you need to know about me, Ember, is that I do care. A lot. Imogene and Alec were all I had. And now that you’re here, I assume we will get to that place too.”

He was pacing in front of her and her eyes were now on his black shoes, “I also care about my family and, this is the life they wanted for me, so I will respect that. I care about having a favorable view in the eyes of my constituents and fellow commanders. To do that I need to have control in my city but also in my own home. You have duties as my wife and one of them is to not overstep me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ember whispered, the words barely audible.

“You will be,” He spoke as he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, before dragging her over to a leather couch. He sat down before rustling her small body over his knee. He held her upper body down with his elbow as he lifted her skirt and lowered her panties, “You’ll make it worse if you squirm.”

Only five seconds later she had gone rigid as she realized she didn’t want things to get worse.

His palm ran over her bare bottom as he said, “I could’ve used my belt,” she flinched, “And I could’ve made Imogene and Alec watch since their members of this household. Consider yourself lucky that I’m giving you a chance.”

She whimpered and he only hit her bottom hard, “Say thank you.”

“Thank you!” She rushed out before quickly adding, “Thank you, Commander.”

“I’ll only give you ten if you can be a good girl and thank me for each one.”

She nodded quickly before saying, “I’ll be good, Commander.”

And then it really began.

One. “Thank you, Commander.”

...

Three. “Thank you, Commander.”

...

Seven. “T-Thank y-you, Commander.”

...

Ten. “Thank you, Commander! Please, please, please, stop!”

He sighed, lifting her underwear, before pulling the sobbing girl into his chest. She had nowhere to go, no other source of comfort so she held him tightly.

She was convinced that he would have little problems from her seeing as she could barely handle ten from his hand. Threatening the belt would be very effective.

He let the girl soak his white t-shirt with her tears as he ran a soothing hand down her back and fingers through her hair, “You’re mine, Ember, through good and bad behavior. In the end, I’m still going to be here,” Ember simply closed her eyes and welcomed the silence.

My request are open! Part 3 of this series is already posted!

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