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littlefreya · 3 years ago

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August’s Box of Mystery

Summary: He left you all alone in his great castle by the sea and requested that you shan't touch yourself... can you keep your loyalty?

Prompted by @gotnofucks: “How do you feel August would react to knowing his girl uses sex toys when he is away? Would he feel jealous? Angry? Turned on?More importantly, what does he do? 👀”

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (No description of ethnicity or body type)

Words: 3k

Warning: 18+, smut + romance and fluff in the end. Female masturbation with a sex toy, voyeurism, sex-tape, cockwarming, mildly rough unprotected sex, breeding, breeding as punishment if to be exact, slight denial, MaleDom, creampie, a lot of it. Read the warnings properly, please.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts it and claiming it as your own.

A/N: I am anxious about this one and hope you’ll enjoy, i’ve been rather influenced by Angela Carter writings. Many thanks to @the-soot-sprite @wondersofdreaming for feedback and @agniavateira for her review. Added notes and credits in the end!

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

August’s Box of Mystery

Outside the bedroom window, the waves roared in a tempest's rage. Torrent after torrent, the sea unleashed brutal tentacles onto the salty iron rocks in a keen, vindictive urge to dismantle them to nought.

It was your own unruly longing that the ocean sensed: forlorn and listless, lying on your bed, the blue mist cloaking your heart.

August's sea-fort was a gilded cage. He had given you everything: diamonds brighter than the moon, sheets made of the softest golden silk, and even a ring to bind you to his unbreakable siege.

His only demand was that you will always wait for him, not only by flesh but soul as well. Despite his dark ambitions, trust and loyalty were qualities August valued beyond anything else.

But soon, you grew tired of watching the reflection of the tides refract upon the naked ceiling. A woman with fire for blood, you were forever tormented by your sultry nature and daydreams of that would make the devil blush.

Frustration gnawed at your bawls until—enough! You shot up from your bed—a storm of silky linen whirling around you like Venus emerging from spume on shore; and just as the goddess of love and beauty, you too yearned to be penetrated. Nibbling your nails, you glanced at the open door, your mind seeing beyond thick walls into his office where he kept a chest filled with illicit delights.

Every now and then—when August's muse struck—he would bring one of his toys to the bedroom, but you weren’t allowed to play on your own.

Body.

Soul.

‘Certainly, August won’t be able to tell if I would be careful?’ You hoped and followed the oceanic breeze hymning from the corridors.

Sand stuck to your bare feet, the wooden planks gently wept beneath your stride. Tipping on your toes, you snuck into his cavernous study, the key stolen from his nightstand already seized between shaky fingers. Though August was absent, your heart thrummed with ire upon setting foot onto the furry rug, as if he was to appear behind you at any given moment.

It was a room that reeked of debaucheries of all kinds: "borrowed" works of art depicting naked nymphs adorned the cherry-wood shelves, divine entities hung onto the wainscoting, and trophies he kept from his victims were encased in a fancy vitrine. Even the slate-blue view felt different from this spot; the rocky piers seemed like a pathway to a marine graveyard.

You paid no mind. You knew who you married and gained nothing but ethereal bliss whenever August fucked you against the window for the shark and whales to see.

Like a girl crawling into the rabbit’s hole, you took half a twirl. There, below the large monitor plastered to the wall, stood the locked chest. Black and gold roses ornamented its exterior and a trident crest was engraved on the lock. Only a fool would overlook such blatant temptation, and though you were no foolish girl, you were feeble at the face of seduction.

Falling to your knees, you made haste to unlock the chest, your heart drumming in your ears with the notion that you defied the words of your strenuous lover. But the same muscle that pumped you with fear, pounded wickedness into your blood.

If only you were blessed with a shred of your husband’s patience.

All the toys inside were placed in order, sanitised, and appropriately boxed in such fashion that you knew August would notice if something was misplaced. The man had the capability of finding an eyelash on the carpet. Still, unrelenting desire strung the cunning finger you ran over the loot, carefully picking one of the familiar vibrators he used on you before.

'Here?'

Standing at the centre of his tidy office you contemplated, suddenly aware of how the room leaked of his entity; scented notes of old leather binding and his woodsy cologne threatened to adhere to your skin, making this mischief taste like a crime. It was best to keep all disobedient whims in an isolated location, you assumed and allowed your eyes to further drift and glide upon the large monitor and the antique desk where August kept the remote. An abrupt wicked idea swam into your mind, reminding you of his private collection.

Catalogued alphabetically, he kept them on his streaming device.

'It should make things quick...' you convinced yourself whilst nibbling on your bottom lip. How worse could it be, anyway? You already rummaged through his chest. Taking a gander at his not-so-secret directory was puny in comparison.

With your lungs in fists, you slipped your panties to your ankles and settled on the cosy leather chair in front of his desk. Ignoring the red flag waved by your anxiety, you reached for the remote and clicked the button.

August made no effort to hide his recordings, simply naming the directory as "Films," as if it contained ordinary Hollywood blockbusters. Impatient, you scrolled down the list, trying to keep the jealousy from simmering in your bawls. August wedded you in this fort, but he never captured you on film like he did his girls. All lovers from the past, of course, but still it almost irked you; yet you brushed these concerns away and picked a file with the name you liked most and pressed “play”.

The ocean's lament was instantly swallowed by guttural howls and grunts that took every empty space within the chamber. Before your flaring eyes appeared the most forbidden of spectacles— your husband taking a different woman. It was odd to hear the familiar timbre of his groans laced with the voice of another. It was even stranger to sense the unmistakable spark of desire jittering in your cove.

Poseidon himself could not compete with the glory of the man, naked and drenched, all muscles and might. Furious, he took her on her knees, his fingers cradling her skull, pushing her head to the pillows while restraining her wrists above the small of her back. She wasn't you and still you clenched, aroused by the sight of the sweat glistening the fur of his torso and by the lack of mercy in the violent motion that ended with the dutiful grind of his sac against her swollen lips.

You hadn't even realised how shamefully you dripped upon the oxen leather of the seat, your thoughts focused on the odd mixture of envy and lust that penetrated your blood.

Desperate to unleash the monstrosity building within your core, you spread your legs over the desk and pressed the toy between your slippery petals. A shuddering whine rode your breath at the brush of the buzzing device, the pleasure so unimaginable it nearly drowned your senses. Gasping, you fought to maintain a hooded gaze upon your lover and his ‘whore,’ and imagined that the rosy silicon phallus that entered your anticipating hole was his swollen cock.

Your walls quickly clenched around the toy in true longing while the window trembled under the muffled rumbling of thunder. Perhaps your passions thickened the clouds. Or maybe it was the immoral streak of ecstasy laced by danger. Whichever it was, it urged you faster toward imminent bliss.

The other woman’s moans entwined with yours while your wayward hand mimicked the rhythm of bodies slamming together in the same frantic chaos that swept you.

Sweat-riddled, your ankles lost way across the smooth surface of the desk, leaving oily markings in a frenzy as climax drew close.

‘Almost…’

‘So close…’

‘August!’

"Enjoying yourself, my little princess?"

Lightning painted the room bright purple, announcing the thunder that tore through the ocean. It wasn’t half as frightening as the low timbre of his voice, which cruelly withheld your ecstasy. The fervour in your veins turned glacial; one moment you ascended to the heavens and the next, got rejected at its golden gates. All the while the growls of his reflection on the monitor echoed through the chamber along with the buzzing toy still buried inside you.

It granted no pleasure now, but further stretched the guilt.

Calm and forebodingly stoic, August reached a curious hand between your quaking thighs, seizing the toy and flicking the switch off. Unable to lift your gaze to meet his severe face, you struggled to swallow and kept your eyes glued to the monitor. Yet, there was no escape from his reflection—the “real” him present in the room peered back at you through the glassy screen. Standing behind you, he etched his fingers around the headrest of the chair and tutted.

“Do you like watching me with others, sweetling? Did this video make you wet?” he asked curiously.

Before any words formed on your quivering lips, his hand fell to your mound. An intrigued “hmm,” flowed from his throat as he found you overflowing with arousal. Like a whore, you couldn’t help but squirm into his touch, your body still enraged of being denied pleasure, and so was the sky that now threatened to turn the ocean upside down.

You nearly gasped at the heavy patter of rain that began to hit the window.

“I…”

“Disobeyed me,” he completed the sentence, his voice mellow and pleasant though the caress of his breath on your face burned.

“...missed you.”

Your attempt to pacify him did not go unnoticed. Lips stretching to a slanted grin, he dared to replace the toy with two fingers that drove inside your gaping hole—sensing how you wrapped and suckled around his long digits like a carnivore plant.

“Such a sweet gesture,” he retorted, “and still, my love, my dear wife who I’ve given everything to, has defied me like a lawless brat…unable to wait for her husband to return from his very important meetings.” His dainty fingers pumped crudely deeper, not to please you but remind you who you belonged to.

Writhing in your seat, you fluttered your eyes shut. “Where were you?”

Ignoring your question, he leaned down, his lips mere inches from your ear and whispered, “I think it’s time I’ll tame my bratty woman for good, don’t you?”

You shuddered to think what punishment he had in mind, your heart sinking to a dark pit at the deadly kiss he offered next to your ear; but then, he took your wrist and in a surprising tenderness guided you from the chair to bend over the desk.

Predictably, the movie had run its course and started again from the beginning, her promiscuous moans and the pounding of their flesh stealing your attention for a split second.

Having you at a disadvantage, August drew an invisible line from your spine to the curve of your behind, his fingers mimicking lines drawn on soaked sand. “All this sea salt in the air around us and your skin is still so tender,” he murmured lovingly and secured a hand around your nape, holding your head forward.

It excited you to watch them before and now with his groin hot and hard against your bare crease you were nothing but craving his cock.

“Is this going to hurt? Will you spank me? Treat me like that whore on your film?” you asked naively, smoothing your sweaty palms across the antique wood with dark anticipation.

“No, my beautiful angel.” his belt clicked and dangled like a set of heavy keys of a warden toying with his captive, “You are not my whore, but my wife. Which is why I’m going to put my child in your reckless womb to end your wicked ways once and for all.”

A gasp of shock left your throat, dazed by his threat you turned to protest. But the air drowned in your chest and your entire body stiffened as August’s ‘leviathan’ split your succulent flesh. Vulgarly you were penetrated, his size stuffing you so deeply, you felt the aching pressure in the pit of your belly.

August stilled for a moment, lingering at the sensation of your hot cove fitting around him in both a strenuous protest and the pathetic defeat in which your body seized the beast, milking it in an attempt to rope him into your womb forever.

“Oh, my sweet wife, I will stretch your little cunt to sheath me that not even these toys will please you. You see, everything here belongs to me, even your defiant womb. And I will leave a piece in me there to teach you a lesson.”

“I don’t think I am ready!” You whined, but the thought of being bred and carrying his child made your cunt unwittingly twitch. Your canal sucked him even deeper if it was even possible.

August sensed your convulsion and growled, his hips pressed unfathomably tight against your rear, making your cheeks ache from the press of his bones. It was torture with the film playing right in front of you; falling into a lucid delirium, your mind replaced her with yourself, yet your August refused to move, withholding your pleasure, owning it, owning you.

His cock anchored hot and thick inside you, its throb as powerful as the thunder hammering the ocean.

You wanted to cry.

“August, please! I need you! I missed you!”

With a harsh pull, he drew back and bludgeoned your crease, his might so vulgar the tip of your toes levitated from the ground. Again, and then again… he grunted at the choke of your flesh around him. Paying you no courtesy, he shook and pounded you almost terrifyingly as meticulously as he did this woman.

His fingers burnt around your waist, so harshly you thought you’d never be able to sense anything but his grip under your skin.

“Oh!” fat tears rolled down your cheeks, your breath a wheeze. Piteously you crumbled onto the desk. Thunders, cries, sounds of rutting flesh, and grunts surrounded you in this cavern of sin; you didn’t know which were yours and which were from the recording. All you knew was that he never took you so zealously before, you were at the brink of either rapture or falling to the abyss.

“You’re too deep! Too rough!” you wailed, unable to adjust to his pace but truthfully you didn’t want him to slow down. Currents of bliss submerged your loins the rougher he fucked you. The hot tingle in your core stormed with every collision of his cock with your cervix.

August reached from your neck to your jaw then and held your face to the screen.

“You wanted to watch her while touching yourself. Do you want to be her?” he growled and increased the pace, splitting through your body the way Dagon ripped open the waves.

Even if you had words, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“You can never be her my darling,” August said and removed his hand from your hip. There was a quick drag of his drawer behind you and a rummaging sound. “Here, I’ll make us a short film; memorise this moment when you conceive me an heir.”

Struck by his words, you turned to stare. The sight of him behind you, inside you, was far more worthy than any film: sweat trickled down his messy curls and arduously strained face, his cerulean shirt damp and his mouth open as his fingers clutched the camera that was directed to the point where you were joint.

Unrelenting, your orgasm flooded through every muscle like a wave of destruction that wrecked every organ within you until you felt nothing but bliss. You felt August’s heart beating in yours.

There it was. Euphoria.

You drowned in it. The maelstrom inside you swallowed and sank his ship as well. With a loud shout of surprise, he broke apart and erupted inside you, his creamy gift ploughing your womb until it overflowed and dripped down your quaking thighs.

The rumbling from outside eased now, the clouded sky groaned with a release, their tears melding into the ocean never to be seen again.

August remained inside you, his breath thick, his hips gingerly grinding into yours to make sure his seed will take.

“There you go, my special girl.” his voice came huskily. “Now you will never be alone, unlike these women I can’t even remember.”

Your hand instinctively snapped to your lower belly, soothingly caressing it in a reverie. You felt battered, full, and disgustingly and arousingly dirty as he swam inside you.

Yet the thought that he impregnated you made your heart flutter.

Was there a more eternal symbolism of love than a legacy?

“August…” you whispered. Beneath you, the desk slightly shook, little tremors vibrated against the delicate pads of your fingers. Turning your head back, you offered him an enamoured glance and reached a hand in plea to lace fingers with his.

His storm-kissed eyes softened and he broke into a sigh at the sight of his wife at her best submissive behaviour. The greatest of all delights was to refine a crude rock into a fine delicate diamond. Proudly, he took your hand in his, entangling your fingers together, yet he kept the video-camera aimed at your joint bodies.

“Don’t move,” he breathed behind you and carefully pulled out his shaft from your flooded hole. A velvety chuckle played on his tongue, impressed by the wet plop and thickness of the cream that leaked off your entrance. Your cheeks burnt as you realised what he has done; your lips parted open to complain but then, with his cock already fully rigid and thick, he plugged you once more, shoving his seed back inside you.

“What are you doing?”

“Waste not, my angel,” he tutted and remained still, brushing his knuckles up and down the curve of your rump.

“Oh, how long?” you whined, uncertain if you are capable of staying this way with him throbbing between your taut walls.

“Until the sky clear up?...” he suggested, voice haunted by lingering satisfaction.

The waves of your previous orgasm were yet to ebb, and now stronger tides began to emerge. Frustration grew within once again and sadly, August’s will had the mettle of an anchor.

“At least tell me where you were!” you yelped.

August scoffed, and wrapped his hands around your waist, only slightly guiding you back into his hips. “No, no, my love. Every marriage needs a little bit of mystery, as you’ve already learned. But now do me a favour,” he uttered and placed the remote next to your hand.

“Play us another one? We might be here a while.”

Credits: Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Themes Inspired by Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber. Leviathan inspired by @sillyrabbit81!!

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or Mission Impossible.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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whiteqnn · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sean invites one of his good friends - Y/N - to play with him and the group. She has a lot of fun with them, but at the same time is too oblivious, too nice, and too pure to notice that one particular Among Us player has taken a liking to her the moment he heard her voice...

Notes: Hello everyone! This is the very first time I’m publishing something bigger in here, I’m honestly still figuring out how Tumblr works, even though I’ve had this account for quite some time now 😅. That being said, please don’t expect anything super impressive. I tried my best though just so you know. 🥺

A/N- It didn’t turn out as I expected, but I really hope at least some of you find it enjoyable :(

Y/C/N - your channel name

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

PURE [1]

“Did you guys find anybody?” Felix asked, as the number of players still showed just 7 of them. They could just start now, but the game would be way more fun with a full lobby.

“Yeah, Lily’s joining. I just texted her the code, so she should be here at any moment.” Sykkuno replied after receiving a text message from the said girl. “Oh, and Corpse also said he’d be joining soon.”

“Great. Anyone else?”

“I think Jack was also bringing someone, right?” Dave asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I have one coming, she’ll join us in a few” the asked man replied at the same moment Lily’s character appeared in the lobby.

“Who you’re bringing Jack?”

“Y/N” he said, causing Felix to gasp in shock and yell into his mic:

“How the fuck did you manage to convince her? I’ve been bugging her about this game for the past week and she always had some excuse!”

“What can I say, my charm is irresistible” Jack replied nonchalantly, causing everyone in the lobby to laugh at his fake deep voice.

The number of participants changed to 9, as a little black astronaut with horns on his helmet appeared in the lobby.

“Corpse, you’re here!” Rae’s character ran up to the man, circling him excitedly.

“Hey man!”

“What’s up, Corpse?”

“Hello everyone” his deep voice sounded out “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“All good man, we’re still waiting for one person.” Felix reassured him “Sean, why is she not here yet? Are you sure you’ve sent her the right code?”

“Of course I am!” he all but shouted at Felix “And about that, she just texted me to give her a few more minutes and that we should start without her.”

“We can just wait, right?” Lily offered, earning a few hums of approval from the others.

“I think it might take a little longer than a few minutes, she has some problems with her microphone.”

“Who are you guys talking about?” Corpse asked, completely unaware of who Jack was referring to.

“Wait, Jack, you mean Y/N from Y/C/N?” Sykkuno asked suddenly, only then realizing why this name sounded familiar

“Yeah, the one and only” Jack replied, a smile evident in his voice.

“Oh my god, I love her videos!” Rae exclaimed at that “She’s so funny and sweet!”

“Yeah! Her new video is so freaking cute, I wish she’d upload more often.” Poki agreed.

“Right?” Jack said, clearly very proud of his friend. “But don’t let that sweet demeanor fool you guys cause she’s one of the best players I’ve encountered in this game.”

“That’s true, she’s a secret big brain genius” Toast confirmed, making Pewdiepie gasp once again.

“wHAT??YOU TWO PLAYED WITH HER?!” Felix’s offended voice boomed through everyone’s headphones “HOW DARE YOU. HOW COULD YOU NOT INVITE ME?!”

“That’s for not inviting me to your latest Cringe episode!” Jack was quick to respond, making others in the lobby laugh at their mini fight.

“Oh, so that’s where I recognized her from!” Sykkuno nearly shouted when he finally put two and two together. “I can’t wait to meet her, she seems like a really nice person.”

“She is! When she got impostor for the first time she refused to kill me” Toast explained, earning himself a couple of Aww’s from his friends. “So we just ran around the emergency button until I called the meeting and voted her off.”

“Yeah, only to be her first victim in the next game.” Jack all but giggled, clearly very amused at the memory of Y/N going into a full berserk mode. No one except for him and Toast knew how good she really was at this game...

“She’s basically the wolf in sheep’s skin” Felix concluded with a chuckle “Very soft wolf, however.”

“She’s like the complete opposite of Corpse, both in voice and personality” Jack suddenly said, making Felix laugh wholeheartedly at something only two of them understood at the moment.

“I don’t know how should I take that” Corpse admitted with a chuckle. He remained silent for most of the conversation since he didn’t really know who the guys were talking about. But he would lie if he said he wasn’t intrigued by this girl at least in the slightest. Although he heard about her channel, he hasn’t seen any of her videos, so he didn’t really know what to expect. But hearing what gamers like Sean and Felix said about her, he knew he’s not gonna be disappointed once the girl joins them in the game.

“Imagine Corpse and Y/N talking.” Felix said suddenly with a seemingly very amused voice.

“Imagine Corpse and Y/N both being Impostors” Toast said, which resulted in many of them shouting over each other at how crazy that would be.

“Alright, now that you mention this I start fearing the moment two of them meet” Jack confessed with loud laughter following the sentence. Corpse chuckled deeply under his breath, at the same time glancing at the questions his audience was asking him in his stream. He could hardly read any, as there were quite a lot of people asking, so all he saw was just a bunch of comments moving at the speed of light in his chat. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was slightly nervous, seeing the growing number of people watching his stream. It was still a rather new thing to him, and he feared he'd say something inappropriate, or just make a complete idiot out of himself.

"At least no one can see me..." he mumbled under his breath after muting his microphone.

"Oh! Y/N just texted me! She's joining the call right now!"

"Fuck yeah!" Felix shouted excitedly "Just so you know Jack, I won't forget that you two played without me."

"Uh-oh. Is that a threat? Are you threatening me now?"

"It's a warning" Felix replied, receiving a series of gasps from other players. "If I get impostor, you're the first one on my list."

"Okay, everyone heard that! You know who to vote off when I'm dead!"

"It's so cool to play with someone new, I wonder if she's as good as you guys depict her" Sykkuno spoke up, but before anyone could answer his question, a new character popped up in the lobby.

***

"Hi everyone! I’m sorry I left you just like that, but this stream would be completely useless without me being able to answer your questions. Fortunately it wasn’t anything serious, I just had to readjust my mic and go through the settings to find what was wrong. Took some time, but here I am now!” Y/N chirped into her microphone, smiling apologetically at her webcam. At the moments like this, she really appreciated how supportive her audience was. No one was hating on her when she had to get off the stream for a couple of minutes, and everyone was just so understanding that it made her heart melt. Perhaps her audience wasn’t very big, but it felt almost like a second family to her.

“Anyway, as you already know from my twitter, today I’ll be playing Among Us with my friends and their friends! I can’t wait if I’m being honest, last time I played this game was so much fun, and there was only a few of us.” she admitted with a genuine smile on her face. “Let’s just text Sean now so we can get into the lobby...”

Y/N: Ready to play with you guys ^^

Jackaboy: Great! You got that mic fixed already?

Y/N: Yes, everything is fine. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.

Jackaboy: It’s all good kiddo, no worries. I’ll call you and send you the code in a sec.

Y/N: Perfect, thank you Sean :)

Jackaboy: Btw, everyone can’t wait to meet you ;-)Y/N stared at the screen for a moment, only now, seconds before joining the group, realizing how nervous she felt. From Sean’s tweets she saw earlier, she figured that the lobby was right now full of many famous streamers, those she wouldn’t even compare herself to. It’s not that she thought of herself very low, but... being among such youtube celebrities like them made her panic a little bit. She didn’t want to look like a complete fool amongst them.

Playing or recording with Sean and Felix was something else because she knew those guys for years (and yet still sometimes found herself thinking how lucky she got to be able to call them her friends). She felt good in their company, not worrying about choosing the right words. But amongst the rest of the players, she knew only Toast and talked with Rae maybe once in her life...

What if the rest won’t like her?

Y/N cleared her throat, realizing that she was still staring at her phone like hypnotized and her audience was already asking her what’s going on. She quickly typed in the code Sean had texted her and readjusted her headphones, before joining the discord chat.

“THERE SHE IS” screamed Sean, making her grin from ear to ear, hearing how excited he was “Little wonderchild!”

“I think you meant little TRAITOR” Felix corrected him with a scoff. A silence settled in the lobby as everyone was waiting for Y/N to speak up.

“Um... hello everyone..” she said softly, almost inaudibly, a sudden wave of shyness taking over her. “I’m Y/N”

“Oh, you were right about that Corpse thing!” replied another, also very soft and very sweet voice, and Y/N saw the image of someone named Lily pop up. “It’s like the exact opposite!”

“See? Told ya. Everyone, meet Y/N/N, the little angel from Y/C/N.”

“Hey Y/N!”

“Hi there!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“H-Hi, so great to meet you, Y/N!” a very friendly sounding voice said, and a little lime astronaut with the name Sykkuno above it started running around her. “Can’t wait to play with you!”

“That’s so nice, thank you” she replied with a wide smile on her face, moving around his character as well. “I can’t wait to play with you too, actually with all you guys. It’s so great to be here with you.”

“Jack I swear she’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever heard. Where the hell did you find her?!” Poki all but yelled at the man, making Y/N giggle to herself and in-process loosen up a little bit. They all seemed like someone she’d happily be friends with.

“Or rather, where do you get one?” someone else commented, making them all burst into laughter, Y/N included.

“Guys, what did I say about that sweet demeanor...” Jack said after calming down from his fit “Don’t put your guard down just because she sounds like that!”

“Wait- what did you tell them about me?” Y/N asked confused, the tone of her voice making him laugh even more “Jack!”

“Don’t worry, only the good stuff” a very deep, low voice spoke up, leaving her taken aback for a moment. Her eyes widened slightly and she glanced at the name of that person, reading out CORPSE. Now that’s something she didn’t expect...

“Corpse, mind your manners! You didn’t even introduce yourself!”

“Oh, shit- yeah, sorry. Um, I’m Corpse, it’s very nice to meet you Y/N” he replied right after, making her lip corners curl up into a smile.

“Nice to meet you too Corpse, you have a really pleasant voice.” she spoke sweetly, completely unaware of the chaos that was taking place in her stream chat. She didn’t even think of it the way her audience did, she just simply spoke up her mind, and being an incredibly nice person - turned it into a compliment.

“Oh- wow. I mean, thank you so much. I love your voice too, it’s really sweet” he replied, nervously chuckling at the end, before muting his mic. It was, however, enough for Felix and Sean to start teasing him, as the two immediately screamed:

“SIIIMP!!!”

“It’s the voice Felix, I told you he’d fall into her trap!”

“Wait- he was just being nice, guys! Stop making fun of him” Y/N immediately defended the man, trying to speak up over the hysterical laughter of the other players.

“Oh my god, but what if they both get impostors and they both pull the voice cards on us?!” Rae managed to yell through all the noise, making Y/N even more confused.

“Wait, what? What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, that’s how I feel all the time around them.” Sykkuno seemed to be the only one who heard her question, as the rest continued their gabbing without giving her as much as a glance.

“Alright, let’s start the game maybe. I might have a few old scores to settle” Toast cleared his throat theatrically, his astronaut coming face to face with Y/N’s.

“Oh, you mean me? I thought I already apologized!” she replied frantically. “You gave me no choice Toast, I didn’t even want to kill you in the first place...”

“BUT YOU DID. IN THE VERY FIRST ROUND”

“I’m sorry!”

“Alright, enough! Toast, just don’t kill her right away, okay? Let her run around the map, fearing for her life for a moment.” Y/N gasped upon hearing Jack’s words, clearly sensing the smirk behind his voice.

“Wha- Jack?! Since when are you against me?!”

“Don’t worry Y/N, I won’t let them hurt you. You haven’t played with us yet, I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, thank you so much Sykkuno! I’ll protect you too!”

“Great. Another one simping...” was Felix’s last words, before the game began.

Y/N sighed in relief upon seeing the word crewmate forming on her screen, but at the same time feared Toast’s inevitable revenge. She thought they'd already buried the hatchet, but it seemed that he was desperate to make her pay for the last time they played together.

“Aw, Sykkuno was serious” she mumbled with a smile, when his lime astronaut started circling her white one, so she would follow him. “Okay, let’s do some tasks.”

They both made their way towards the medbay, Sykkuno patiently waiting nearby as she did the scan, then Y/N waiting for him to do the same. The moment his little character stepped towards her, a meeting was called by none other than Felix.

“What happened?” Rae asked.

“I called the meeting because I’m afraid of Jack” he responded, causing everyone to laugh. “Seriously though! Dude’s been following me around the whole time.”

“I was just making sure nobody kills you.”

“Yeah don’t go all Sykkuno on me!” Felix screamed, making the call erupt into even more laughter.

“Alright, are we skipping?”

“Yeah.”

“Guys, my life is in danger!” Felix wouldn’t give up. “Come on, show some support! Y/N? You played with him, you know his techniques!”

“Sorry Felix” Y/N giggled, clicking the skip button.

When the next round began, Sykkuno was quick to join Y/N on her way towards admin, where they both found Poki doing the upload. They did the card swipe and left her there, when the lights suddenly went off.

“Uh-oh. Let’s head the opposite direction, Sykkuno” the girl murmured, dancing around his character and heading towards Comms instead of going to Electrical. It was the easiest way to die, after all.

Once they entered the room and waited for someone to fix the lights, Y/N could see another figure appear in the same location. She couldn’t recognize whose character it was, but upon seeing the horns on the helmet she smiled to herself.

“Hey there, Corpse” she said, walking up to the black astronaut, who was standing still in the same place as if he was just watching her and Sykkuno run around Comms instead of doing their tasks.

They stood like that for a couple of seconds until Corpse turned around and ran away, and that’s when the first body was reported.

“Oh no, Jack!”

“Poor guy. He’s gonna haunt us now.”

“Where’s the body?”

“Navigation” replied Rae, who was the one to find Sean’s green astronauts’ body “Didn’t see anyone around, but I’m pretty sure someone just vented right in front of my eyes...”

“Any suspicions?” Toast asked.

“Um, not really sure, it was the exact same moment the lights went off. I was doing tasks with Jack and then he just died. I only saw the vent close, nothing or no one else.”

“Okay, where are you guys right now?”

“I’m in admin with Dave, we only passed Poki when we got there.” Lily’s voice sounded out, quickly being joined by Poki’s explanation.

“Yeah, I was finishing the upload when you guys came in, Y/N and Sykkuno saw it”

“Did you see her?” Toast asked, addressing his question towards the white and lime astronauts.

“Yes, we were doing the card swipe before going to Comms. Corpse joined us for a moment and then left.”

“Yeah, I was on my way to fix the lights when I stumbled upon them in Comms, the body was reported the exact moment I left.”

“Can someone confirm this? I mean, did someone see you besides the two of them?” Toast continued his questioning.

“I think I only saw Felix in Medbay.”

“Hmm, so no one really knows where you were this whole time. You could easily lure Jack into Navigation and kill him there. Is that what you did, Corpse?”

“Woah, that’s some serious accusation” Corpse replied in his usual, low and calm voice. “Where were you Toast? You seem the only one who still doesn’t have an alibi”

“Neither does Felix.” Y/N spoke innocently, and the mentioned man quickly started his explanation.

“Okay, I was with Jack at the beginning but he clearly can’t confirm this since someone snapped his fucking neck. We’ve split up in O2 after doing our tasks and then he must’ve gone with Rae. I just wandered around the map, escaping from the death.”

“Hmm, so not only were you one of the last people to see him alive, but you also admit to not doing your tasks” Y/N said, trying her best to keep her voice steady and stop herself from laughing. She was sure Sykkuno was doing the same thing, they both refused to do any tasks after the lights went off, after all.

“Yeah, but does that already makes me an Imposter? I’m just scared for my life, that’s all.”

“Y/N has some good logic, but I’m not really sure it’s Pewds. I mean, I saw him in Medbay and he really seemed to be just jogging around.” Corpse said, his voice almost immediately doing its magic, as people more or less willingly agreed to skip this round as well.

“I think it’s Felix. I mean, I haven’t played with him yet, but I have this feeling that he’s just acting.” Y/N said to her chat after muting herself. She went towards Weapons to do another task, seeing Sykkuno’s little character follow her once again, but the doors were suddenly locked and his lime astronaut remained in Cafeteria. “Oh no, Sykkuno” she sighed with a pout on her face, deciding against waiting for him and risking getting her neck snapped. She finished her task in Weapons and moved towards another location, when suddenly Corpse appeared in front of her, coming right out of nowhere.

“Oh- Corpse, you scared me to death” Y/N breathed a laugh, watching as his character stood still for a couple of seconds, before circling around her white astronaut. Y/N nodded her head with a smile, even though he couldn’t see her, and followed him in Shields, where they found Poki’s dead body.

“The body is in Shields” Y/N replied right after reporting the body, only to gasp in shock when she realized more than one person was killed. Red crosses decorated not only Poki’s name but were also visible next to Dave and Lily.

“What the hell?!” Felix all but yelled into his mic, obviously shocked just like everyone else who was still alive.

“Now that’s... a lot of bodies” Sykkuno mumbled under his breath.

“Alright, who’s in Shields? Y/N, you said you found the body there, which one?”

“Poki’s, Corpse was there with me” her reply was followed by his short and low hum.

“Sykkuno, where are you? I didn’t see you anywhere since the last round.” Felix asked, clearly accusing the lime astronaut of being a murderer.

“I was... doing the wires in electrical, Toast was there for a moment as well.”

“Yeah but I was only searching for the body, so I saw you maybe for a second” Toast replied, building even more suspicions around Sykkuno.

“But- guys, you know I wouldn’t kill two people in one round, let alone four of them.”

“No one says you did that, I only mentioned that you were nowhere to be seen. You could’ve been sabotaging the map for the other Impostor” Felix said nonchalantly.

“Guys, I-”

“It’s him! It must be him!” Rae shouted through her mic.

“Sykkuno is 100% innocent, I can vouch for him” Y/N’s voice sounded out in everyone’s headphones “We were together since the start of the game and he didn’t kill me, even though he had quite a number of chances to do so.”

“Weren’t you with Corpse this time?” Felix asked suspiciously.

“I was! But at the beginning, I was with Sykkuno, until someone locked him in Cafeteria. That’s when we split up.”

“And you haven’t seen him ever since?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then I can assure you it was only a matter of time before he’d stab you in the back” Toast concluded, making Sykkuno gasp in confusion.

“Wha- No, I would never do that! Y/N is our guest, I was just making sure she was okay!”

“Sykkuno, simping won’t save your life right now”

“Wha- I- Guys!” he tried to stutter out some logical explanation “Y/N, don’t believe them!”

“I don’t, I know you’re innocent! C’mon guys, he wouldn’t do it!”

“Yeah yeah, let’s kick him out. Corpse, who are you voting?” Toast asked, and Y/N could see the I voted sign next to his character.

“I kinda feel like Felix tries to shift the blame onto Sykkuno. He didn’t even tell his location, and was already throwing accusations on someone else.” Corpse replied after a moment, making the smile widen on Y/N’s face. Someone was finally on her side!

“That’s because he can’t even explain himself!” Felix exclaimed, voting as well.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for whoever locked that door, Y/N would be dead as well!”

“No, I told you I-!”

“Guys, we have ten seconds to vote. Rae?”

“I think it’s him as well. He was acting suspiciously since we started this round. I vote Sykkuno”

“But..!”

“No, Sykkuno...” Y/N whispered with a pout on her lips, when she saw the number of people who voted for her lime friend.

Sykkuno was ejected.

“Alright, I’m pretty sure it’s Felix. I saw Rae multiple times and she didn’t kill me, Toast also doesn’t act very Impostor like, but maybe that’s just one of his strategies... Corpse is with me again, I don’t think that’s him, I mean, he followed me around last round, but still didn’t do anything, and even vouched for me and Sykkuno when we were both clearly chilling in comms. It can’t be him... right?”

Dead body reported.

“I just saw Corpse kill Toast, then vent!” Rae’s voice blared through Y/N’s headphones, as she looked in shock at the red cross next to Toast’s name. If not him, then..?

“What?” the accused man asked calmly “That’s a self-report, she’s trying to frame me. You guys can’t possibly believe her.”

“I believe her. I saw you enter the Electrical with Toast, then he’s suddenly dead” Felix said.

“That’s because she vented in there and killed him.”

“No! I swear, Y/N/N you have to believe me!” she directed her words towards the girl who remained silent during their discussion, processing her accusations over and over in her head. “I was fixing the wires, Toast was doing another task, and then boom! I see Corpse snapping his neck!”

“How could you see that if the lights were off?” Y/N suddenly asked, making Rae cut her own sentence off “No one went to fix them, they were off the entire round.”

Silence.

“It’s Rae, it must be her” Corpse couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly at how small was the mistake which completely blew Rae’s cover. “We’re voting Rae, right Y/N?”

“No! Guys, I mean, let me explain, I-!”

Rae was ejected.

“Now that was something I didn’t expect. I would’ve never thought it was her, I even suspected that Sykkuno might really have been the other Impostor, but now... It’s just me, Corpse, and Felix. I’m clear, clearly, so it must be one of them. And since Corpse protected me for the past few rounds, there’s no other option than...”

Her eyes suddenly widened when the realization hit her, and she quickly turned around to speed towards the emergency button. Fortunately, no one was around to stop her from calling the meeting.

“Felix.” Y/N started, trying to contain her excitement and sound seriously “Where were you when Sean was killed?”

Neither Corpse of Felix said a word, as it was probably the last question they expected her to ask. Felix cleared his throat, however, and finally replied:

“Y/N, that was literally the beginning of a game. How am I supposed to remember what I did then?”

“Well” she said nonchalantly “I, for example, clearly remember the things you said even when we were in the lobby.”

“What are you implying?”

“Wasn’t it you, who told everyone that Sean was your number one if you get Impostor?” she asked with a wicked smile on her face. Felix was dumbfounded, he obviously didn’t expect her to pull that card on him, hell, he didn’t even know how she knew about it since she wasn’t even in the call at the time.

“FELIX” Corpse suddenly broke the silence, simultaneously breaking the said man from his train of thoughts.

“Okay, first of all- YOU WEREN’T EVEN IN THE CALL WHEN I SAID THAT” he yelled through his mic, making both Y/N and Corpse laugh, as it only confirmed their suspicions.

“See? You only proved my point.”

“Oh, fuck’s sake- I was just joking okay?!” he tried to defend himself, but hearing how he couldn’t even contain his own laughter anymore, it was clear he already accepted the defeat. “It wasn’t serious, god damn it!”

“You know what to do, Y/N” Corpse’s voice asked through her headphones, and surely, she knew exactly what to do.

“C’mon Y/N, that’s not fair! At least let me explain myself!”

“Bye Felix” she said in an overly dramatic tone before Corpse voted as well.

Soon enough, the sign VICTORY could be seen on her screen, which made her squeak and joy. This game was really fun, even though she was so scared of being killed first.

“I knew it! I knew you would figure out it’s him! That son of a bitch who murdered me!” Jack basically yelled out, clearly very happy about the result.

“Y/N, seriously now, how did you know I’ve said that?” Felix asked without even hiding his surprised tone.

“Let’s just say I might’ve stolen some of your viewers, Felix” she admitted, winking at her webcam, a new wave of comments landing on her chat. “Thanks guys!”

“Okay, that is rude and not fair!”

“It helped me win, so I’ve got nothing else to say” Y/N grinned from ear to ear, before muting herself for a moment to finally answer some of the questions from her chat, while the rest took a quick break to eat something or go to the bathroom.

She was halfway through telling the story of how she met Sean when she noticed she got a message from a private discord chat.

CORPSE: That was really impressive :)

Y/N smiled to herself upon seeing his text and quickly typed out the answer.

Y/N: Thanks!! I wouldn’t have done that without you though, you stood up for me and Sykkuno and all

Y/N: Also, thanks for protecting me from being murdered ^^

CORPSE: No problem, I knew you were innocent right away.

CORPSE: Anyway, good game, Sean was right saying that you’re one of the best players

She couldn’t help the blush that arose on her cheeks, it was very sweet of him to say that, even though she didn’t actually do much except for exposing Felix.

Y/N: I wasn’t an Impostor though, so you didn’t really see much :)

She watched the three dots beside his name, that signaled he was still texting. The chat was completely forgotten, but people seemed to quickly notice that small, shy smile on her lips, and the pink tint decoring her cheeks.

CORPSE: Okay, now I’m intrigued...

Y/N: Maybe we’ll both be Impostors one day ^^

CORPSE: Can’t wait for that to happen.

Soon enough, they returned to the lobby to begin another game. Y/N glanced at her chat for a second, and the moment she returned her eyes to the game, her jaw basically dropped.

IMPOSTOR was written in bold letters in the middle of the red screen, right above her name.

Corpse’s little character was standing beside her.

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagines #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagines #youtubers x reader #fanfiction #writing #imagine

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neuxue · 2 years ago

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Non-binary Min? She's just a girl who doesn't like wearing dresses. I'm sure plenty of women can sympathize with such a thing. Also, why did we bother fighting for 40 years to say that "women aren't just stereotypes! Embrace other forms of femininity!" if we were just going to turn around and say "If you're not identical to the stereotypical female, you're actually a trans-male or non-binary"? Can't we just have non-feminine women and call them women? Without drastic surgeries or fake genders?

One of the beautiful things about fiction is that there doesn't have to be one right answer to everything. The same story can resonate very differently with different readers for different reasons. The same character can be relatable to different people in different ways. A single person can hold entirely contradictory interpretations simultaneously of a particular story or character or element therein, if both happen to be interesting or compelling to them for whatever reason.

No two people are going to have the exact same experience reading the same story, because they come to it each with their own contexts and lenses and interests. Even the same person isn't necessarily going to have the same experience reading the same story every time they read it, whether because a reread reveals different things than a first-time read or because they're reading it for fun rather than for a literature class assignment or because they're reading it as an adult rather than as a child or because they're focusing on a different character or, or, or.

And within that there's space for all different kinds of engagement with the text, from casual reading to in-depth analysis to adaptation to research to producing transformative works to... the list goes on. There will be variation even within any of those categories, and perhaps more so across them - and I think that's something to love about stories, that in this way they become more than the sum of their parts, that they can hold such a range of appeal, that they can serve as starting points for conversation or expansion of thought - or for pure enjoyment and entertainment, or any combination thereof.

All this to say: you can read Min in the way that most resonates with you, or in the way that makes the story most satisfying to you, and other readers can do the same. And those readings may turn out to be different, but they don't have to impinge on one another. What you find relatable or compelling about Min and what someone else find relatable or compelling about Min can be different - or can be the same elements of her character but for different reasons.

One person may find Min most relatable/compelling when read as a cis woman who dresses in a way not defined by her society as typically feminine. Another person may find Min most relatable/compelling when read as non-binary and exploring what form of gender expression feels most right. A third person... you get the idea.

Or maybe it's not about relatability at all. A reader can also look at Min and not necessarily see or want to see their own experience, but might still find it interesting to read her from different angles - and sometimes the same person will read her differently at different times, or might just straight-up read her as all-of-the-above-and-then-some, all at once. Sure, some of those readings might be contradictory, but she's a fictional character unconstrained by such petty notions as reality. The cat is both dead and alive, until you open the box and a dragon steps out.

All of those readings are possible, and how one person reads Min doesn't have to dictate how another person does. Even on things where there's an explicit canonical statement, that's what transformative works are for.

I'm not going to tell you you can't read Min as a cis woman who just dislikes wearing dresses. Nor am I going to tell someone else they can't read Min as a trans woman finding her own level of comfort with expressing femininity.

To then follow this ask into the realm of reality...

Just as people can read the same character in different ways, and those readings don't have to interfere with one another, people can express and define their gender and relationship to their gender in different ways, and that doesn't have to impact on your gender and expression thereof.

Fighting for women to be able to embrace non-stereotypical forms of femininity is a goal that works in concert with, not in opposition to, fighting for a broader understanding of gender, identity, and expression. I'm not going to say it's 'all about' any one thing, but one of the large areas of overlap is the entire idea that gender isn't a rigid set of stereotypes someone has to fit into.

The very question you posed, of "Can't we just have non-feminine women and call them women?" is surely predicated on this: the idea that 'femininity' and 'being a woman' are not necessarily one and the same. Following that through to a logical conclusion suggests that presentation/ appearance/ conformity to a particular standard or stereotype is not equivalent to gender, and thus permits this more inclusive perspective of both gender and presentation.

Breaking down that rigidity benefits everyone by not trying to force someone - whatever their gender - into a box that doesn't fit them.

#tl;dr: you can read min how you want and you can also describe your gender how you want #and other people can do the same #fish aren't real etc etc #asks #anon #I... have no idea how to tag this #cw transphobia

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dathen · 3 years ago

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Okay I have some complicated thoughts following Melanie’s arc that all build on top of each other and hinge HEAVILY on unreliable narrator interpretations so bear with me

In my relisten I’m at the beginning of s3, and it always shocks me a bit at how quickly she interprets Martin’s interaction with her as hostile. I’m going to skip over the “it’s understandable, Melanie’s had a hard time in her career” disclaimers since there’s plenty of meta on that already, and instead follow the effects of this tendency: not on others, this time, but on her

(This got absurdly long and covers so many episodes so I’m going to split it into separate pre- and post-bullet surgery posts)

Rewinding a bit, the last time she was at the Institute, she was starting to get along with Jon before he seemed confused about her comment on “the other Sasha.” It takes her a split second to interpret that confusion as him suddenly deciding to gaslight and mock her, gets angry and tells him there is something seriously wrong with him, and leaves before he can ask what she means. Given how tenuous their truce was and the fact she and Jon had mocked each other in the past, it’s an outburst that at least has some personal history behind it.

But only a couple episodes later, we learn that it’s not just Jon she responds to in this way. In TMA 84, she meets our Martin Blackwood! Customer service voice opposite-of-Jon politeness extraordinaire! And as soon as he gets confused about the two Sasha comment, she.......immediately assumes that HE is also trying to gaslight her. She insists that “I’m not doing this again” without giving him a chance to ask or explain, so they miss the opportunity to piece together the deal with the Not!Sasha. Her doing this with someone she just met shows a much broader pattern than her interactions with Jon.

That very episode, Elias offers Melanie a job, and she accepts despite Martin’s protests. Later, she accuses them all of them being an “old boy’s club” because she interpreted Martin’s warnings as sexism rather than trying to protect her. As the audience, we see the unreliable narrator of her perspective at work: we know that Jon and Martin were genuinely confused, and we know that Martin was trying to save her, and that all of these instances were her seeing it as people being out to get her.

Hop forward to the notorious gossip scene in TMA 106. Here, Melanie complains about Martin being hostile to her. My first assumption was that this was all offscreen, but after this parade of misinterpretation and comparing to her and Martin’s actual interactions, I have to wonder:

TMA 84, after Martin tells Melanie about the murder, and right before Elias interrupts:

Martin: Are you sure you’re alright?

Melanie: Yes! I just got… God, I’m kind of at the end, you know?

Martin: The end of what?

Melanie: Everything. Friends, clues, savings. Everything. Options. There’s nowhere left for me to go . I don’t know why, but… I just, I just felt that perhaps coming here might help. And talking things out with Jon. I mean, I mean he’s awful, but at least he listens, you know?

Martin: (soft) Yeah. ...I’m sorry. Um, is there anything that I could, like, maybe...do for you?

They get interrupted immediately after this, so this was the first impression Melanie was given. Then, when Elias offers the job, she...assumes Martin’s “I don’t think that’s a good idea” is from sexism, when he’d just been talking about murders and disappearances that caused that very job opening.

TMA 88

Melanie: Are you alright?

Martin: Yeah… Sorry, just a lot of change recently, y’know. You and John and Sasha and… everything’s gone a bit wrong. It’s the not knowing, you know? I mean, Jon’s still alive. Not sure why, but I’m sure of that. But Sasha, I…

Melanie: Yes, it’s… it’s probably, um…

Martin: Sorry, sorry, I’m... What do you need?

Next interaction! Oh this one HURTS. Martin takes her question literally, and starts telling her why she’s not alright, a reverse of their earlier exchange. But Melanie came by for a question and wasn’t prepared for an honest answer, so Martin quickly reels it in and asks what he can do for her once again.

Skipping forward a bit in that same scene:

Martin: Oh, you weren’t here when we took the place over from Gertrude! It’s been over a year just to get it like this. I mean, I think the database was on Jon’s list, but--

Melanie: So how do you track someone down?

Martin: Oh, oh well, y’know, we’ve a few contacts in various record offices around the place. Aside from that it’s just… just a bit of detective work, really. Tim used to do a great line in impersonating people to utility companies! Heh, the number of times he got them to give him ‘his own’ address--

Melanie: Right, right… Um, this one, the name is 'Jude Perry.’ Doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?

I LOVE THIS EXCHANGE. I TREASURE IT. Having bottled up his emotions, Martin is going in full Friendly Helpful Coworker mode. There are so many little details here signaling that he’s embracing her as part of the team, sharing anecdotes about Tim’s shenanigans and Jon’s old plans, looping her in as One of Them as he helps her get what she needs. This is the kind of approach you go to management trainings to get, to help new hires feel welcome and part of things. But alas, Melanie is in a hurry and wants to cut to the chase, so all this is lost on her.

TMA 98 - I won’t copy it all in here because it’s long, but this is an overwhelmingly positive interaction. She asks if he’s okay, but he bottles it up and says he’s fine. This time, she presses, and he admits it’s because of the statements. Martin ends up asking for help!! and Melanie agrees! She’s on the way to murder Elias, but she still gets credit for “I’ll ask him to cut you some slack.” Then she invites him to drinks!

And then.... TMA 106

Melanie: Anyway, Martin’s always been lovely to you.

Basira: Hmm. I don’t know, I mean, you should have seen him when I turned up last year. I think he thought I was trying to steal his precious Archivist.

Melanie: Ahhh. I got the exact same when Jon was hiding out, and came to me with his “source on the inside” stuff. Martin was not impressed.

WAIT WHAT

We just looked over all their interactions! They were all soft and lovely and welcoming!! But then we hear Melanie with “well unlike how he is to me, Martin is nice to you.” This was taken at face value for years, but when you line up all of the above, I feel there is a strong basis to say this is another case of Melanie’s first impressions + over-defensiveness gone wrong. Just like we saw her initial bickerings with Jon solidify into series-long hostility, her interpreting Martin’s confusion as gaslighting and warnings about the job as sexism seems to have doomed her opinion of him long-term. We hear Martin being kind and concerned and welcoming, then hear Melanie contrast it as bad treatment.

Recently, a mutual considered this even further to how she talked about losing all of her friends with the Ghost Hunt UK circles:

Melanie: Even back then, I could feel all my old friends starting to distance themselves from me. ... I stopped asking the others for help, and I kept my research to myself. I talked to them less and less. By the time I was arrested, I think a lot of them had already given up on me.

I have to wonder...did this sort of dynamic play out here, too? Did she assume that her friends’ concern was judgment or hostility? Were they giving up on her, or did she lash out and push them away? Either way, it’s easy to see parallels to s2 Jon in her description, here, with her withdrawing and diving alone into increasingly risky research without asking for help. And s2 Jon definitely shared Melanie’s tendency to see offers for help and support as hostile. (Aside: I interpret her and Georgie as not very close at this point, like a networking contact rather than a friend; Melanie comes to Jon for someone to talk to about her struggles above her, and Georgie seems to be unaware of all of Melanie’s encounters pre-s3)

And on that downer note I am ending part 1...but PART 2 IS GOING TO BE WAY HAPPIER THAN THIS. Here, we see Melanie with a lot of people who would have supported her if she let them: Martin, Jon, possibly the friends she said abandoned her. But in her effort to protect herself and not let history repeat for how she’d been hurt in the past, she ends up alone and spiraling.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #melanie king #tma meta #I had to stop myself from just rambling All Melanie Feelings in Every Direction to stay on track #but hoo boy writing this gave me a lot of feelings for the martin melanie friendship that could have been

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theenderwalker · 3 years ago

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re: DSMP "unsolved mysteries"

I've seen lots and lots of posts about the "unsolved mysteries" on the Dream SMP that focus on the TNT on top of the prison and the missing nukes. One of those I am very confident was implied canonically to be Ranboo, and the other I'm confident in my theory that it was him. Putting it under a read more bc its fuckin Long, but its worth the read! Word count: 2482

First: TNT at the prison.

This was implied to be Ranboo across a couple different streams, albiet subtly. I'm not surprised it went a little bit under the radar, but it's simply untrue to say we have no indication of who it could be.

This point doesn't hold true across everything of this nature, and if it did, it would be a dead giveaway, but I think it's relevant here for a couple reasons: Ranboo was online at the time of the explosions. Tommy tends to reflexively open the tab menu during his lore streams, almost as a nervous habit, so we saw multiple times that Ranboo was online, and would seen it have even if Tommy had chat turned off. Online at the time were Sam, Dream, Tommy, Foolish, and Ranboo. Foolish could not have been the culprit, as he was live at the time. In the case of this incident, it would have to be manually triggered by someone. Afterwards, when Tubbo was doing his "interrogations", his first bit of evidence was checking who was online when it happened. For these reasons, I feel this is a valid point for this incident.

That night, Ranboo was live on the SMP. This stream is notable for most people because it was when Ranboo did the odd code in his inventory, that read "He is in control" (or he is in control of me, if you count the to do list). Many people focused on this as a indication that Dream controlled Ranboo to set off the TNT, but this line of thinking was abandoned over time, especially as we saw the implication that the message was actually referring to the Enderwalk, talking about Ranboo stopping himself from doing anything to save Tommy from the prison during that week. However, other details in that stream also hinted it was Ranboo. Most notable to me was Ranboo reading chat or a dono asking him what he had done that day, and him answering that he had "probably gone mining," with some uncertainty. Later that same stream, he went down into his mines , found no ingots in the furnaces, and commented "maybe [he] didn't go mining", and that he wasn't sure what he had done that morning. This comes across to me as an indication that he had a blank spot in his memory that day--that he had been Enderwalking. He drew attention to this here, where he otherwise wouldn't, because it implies he was Enderwalking while he was visibly online, on Tommy's stream, where he would have been able to set off that TNT.

Ranboo was one of the only people on the server with a positive relationship with Dream, of any sort. It is true, especially at this time, that many people had negative opinons of Tommy, but Ranboo was the only one who didn't outright hate Dream... in his Enderwalk state. (with the sole exception of Punz, if you think the vault confrontation was staged, but that's definitely theory territory.) Dream has repeatedly stated that he finds Tommy "fun" and enjoys fucking with him. Tommy was locked in the prison after Ranboo could no longer visit, so assuming he has no supernatural means of communication with Dream (which is likely, as we have no real indication otherwise), he would have been acting without instruction. What better way to help Dream out than getting him his 'plaything' for at least a week?

Alternatively, you could frame it as a distraction or a break in/out attempt... which also doesn't make sense for anyone but Ranboo. Either way you frame it, Ranboo is the only person who makes sense without having to stretch their relationship with Dream into something it isn't.

Tubbo's investigation was the only real in character investigation into this incident we saw. He started out investigating people who were online, which is why I believe it's uniquely relevant to this incident. As I mentioned earlier, Foolish's alibi was that he was live. Ranboo's alibi was that he was mining. If you recall, the day Tommy was locked into the prison, Ranboo acknowledged that he did not know what he had done that afternoon, and that he distinctly had not been mining. This investigation didn't get much further than this because Tubbo refused to acknowledge that Ranboo could have done something like this. Because Ranboo has hidden his enderwalking so well, no one has any reason to believe he would do something to intentionally hurt one of his friends, or to help Dream.

Canonically, there isn't much evidence outside of Ranboo's comments to the audience because the characters absolutely cannot find out that it was Ranboo. He cannot be revealed as a traitor, narratively. Not yet, at least. So all of the evidence has to be directed towards the audience, which leads to it falling into subtext more often than not. The Enderwalk arc has the potential for an absolutely disastrous reveal at some point, where others discover exactly what he has done. It's unlikely that something like this will be confirmed explicitly until that point, but I believe the details I have explored above are foreshadowing, and will be explored again at this reveal. This point applies to the nuke, as well--perhaps even more so for reasons I will explore below.

Second: The missing nuke.

This one treads a little more into theory territory, but I think some of the subtextual implication is in this one too, it's just a bit further apart. Instead of being implied in streams the day of the incident and one week later, these implications are a little bit further out. I don't think I'm necessarily stretching by making these connections, though I can see why someone may think it's a stretch.

Ranboo was not online during this stream. This is why I think that's only conditionally applicable to the last point--Tubbo does not check tab habitually, and he had chat turned off intentionally. The tab list isn't necessarily canon to this stream. If we go by that, Jack Manifold is physically the only person who could have taken the nuke. The only other people online were Philza and Foolish, who were both live. Since this wasn't taken into consideration for the investigations, it's not relevant here.

Out of character, Jack took the nuke. Jack did not stream his perspective of this incident, he hung behind when Tubbo went ahead to start building the silo, and when the two came back together later, it was gone. This was intentionally done, as Jack usually streams his perspective for lore like this. If he had been the one to take the nuke, we likely would already know. His secret plans are not a secret from the audience, they are a secret from other characters--this leads me to think that in character, he did not take the nuke.

Very few people knew about the nukes, so we already start with a pretty small pool of suspects. One of these people was Ranboo. Even if Ranboo did seem to forget what Tubbo told him, the nuke would have been taken while he was Enderwalking--y'know, when he remembers everything, or at least remembers more.

The backbone of this theory, and the reason why I even began to consider it, is that Ranboo has a very solid and clear motivation to want the nuke. Ranboo has been helping Dream. The nukes were made specifically to be a deterrent/protection against Dream. If Ranboo takes one of the nukes, Dream now has access to that nuke, and the playing field has been re-balanced. Essentially, it's creating Mutually Assured Destruction between them. To take it one step further, only one of the nukes went missing. Tubbo was left with one nuke, and Ranboo and Dream have one nuke. Why not just take both? Well, leaving both parties with a nuke essentially ensures neither side will use it. It protects Dream, but it also helps to maintain (a semblance of) peace. Neither side can use their nuke without the other retaliating in kind. This leads to tensions, but prevents outright warfare from either side. It's not pretty, but it aligns with Ranboo's broader goals of keeping the peace.

So we've got the motivation, it makes sense. But that's not enough to make the claim on its own. What's the evidence?

This is a touch convoluted, so I get why it doesn't necessarily come up in relation to this as evidence often, but it's pretty solid to me. Especially compared to how vague most of Ranboo's subtext can get.

It's in the lessons! The highest number of lesson we were given was 94, though when Ranboo was repeating it outloud, he said 93. He later clarified saying 93 was intentional. This stream was on April 23rd. 93 days earlier, to the day, was January 20th--the day Dream was locked in the prison. 93 lessons for 93 days. If we take this to imply the lessons were daily, starting when Dream was locked in the prison, each lesson corresponds to a specific day. March 26th was the day the nuke went missing. 67 days from January 20th is March 27th, the day after the nuke disappeared without a trace. Neither Jack nor Tubbo had any real leads on the nuke. Lesson 67, the day after the nuke was stolen... "Leave no evidence of what you have helped with." This EXACT thing is why the nuke is so hard to pin down. There was no real evidence left. This lesson lining up so closely to the nuke's disappearance is not a coincidence. Further, at this point Ranboo no longer had contact with Dream. He had locked himself out of the prison and couldn't visit. If the lessons are daily, the things he writes down are things he's figured out for himself. The lesson being the day after the nuke was stolen makes sense, when framed like that. He stole the nuke, left no evidence, and wrote that down because it worked.

All of the hints/foreshadowing for the eventual reveal of where the nuke disappeared to has to be done in retrospect, and it has to be either from Ranboo, or from some other source that knows more than the characters. Which leads into my second bit of evidence: the Tubbo Texts. Across like, a week of streams (starting on April Fools Day), spooky half transparency cryptic text appeared on screen periodically, that c!Tubbo was unaware of. Those texts have never been explored in canon, it seems that none of the characters are aware of them or of their contents. So they are posed directly to the audience. The second one in particular stands out to me here:

"Quick, I don't have much time. Stay away from the North. A strange metal weapon washed up. It poisons the nature, the water. No it's not. That's it, we are leaving."

The 'strange metal weapon' seems to refer to the nuke, the poison being the radiation. Geographical direction is rarely paid any mind on the server, but north is distinctly the direction of Techno, Phil, and Ranboo's house. I think I remember Ranboo telling Sam he lives "up north" while trying to visit the prison. The arctic commune is the only notable northward location. The nuke disappeared, and reappeared in the north, in the direction of Ranboo's home. The rest of the texts refer to the north as well. We don't know where Ranboo's base of operations is in the Enderwalk, but we can assume he has at least one, and we can assume the nuke is hidden there, if he has taken it. If Ranboo has taken the nuke, it makes sense for it to be in the North.

Ranboo has proven he can take things without any evidence left behind. Remember his first beacon, that disappeared like, a day after he set it up? He never tracked it down, just replaced it. Within a couple days, he made a comment about his pickaxe durability being suspiciously low... maybe because he was using the stolen beacon to mine far from his home base so it wasn't noticeable that he had been mining. That's beside the point. I mean this to say, he knows how to take and hide things, he knows how to keep secrets, and he almost definitely has at least one secret base we've never seen onscreen.

So maybe Ranboo took the nuke, maybe he set off the TNT at the prison, that's cool, but why have they abandoned the plotlines? Why have we never gotten more explicit answers? Why won't they come back to it?

Ultimately, it seems a lot of these plans have been pushed back and delayed for one reason or another. Beyond that, an untimely reveal of either of these things to other characters would be a huge letdown. The arc seems to be building to a catastrophically large reveal, and each thing that gets revealed before then makes it much less impactful. Keeping it subtle towards the audience, while still offering some hints, stops a certain degree of the chat spoiling "metagaming" we see sometimes, that makes some streamers have to fully ignore their chats during lore streams.

This part is very much my own opinion, but I don't believe the missing nuke plotline will be resurfacing until after Dream is out of prison. Ranboo has no reason to reveal he has it until it will be put to use, either as a nuke or as a threat, and that won't happen til Dream is out of the prison and the nuke is in his hands instead.

The TNT on top of the prison will be an insanely gratifying reveal if it comes out with the rest of the enderwalk stuff. Any of this taken out of that context just kinda falls flat. So people know Ranboo set off the TNT, or know he has the nuke. How does that propel the plot? Ranboo won't do much of anything about it. People will distrust Ranboo, sure, but they won't know the depth of the issue, and that just makes the reveal frustrating. It will be revealed in time, I'm sure, but I think the enderwalk arc has to reach a climax first, or it's just disappointing.

I agree with the general frustration that these plotlines appear to be dropped or greatly delayed, but it's a symptom of a bigger pacing issue than solving either 'mystery' on its own will fix. And the answers aren't as obfuscated as they first may seem, it just takes a little digging!

#dsmp ranboo #dsmp dream #dsmp tommy #dsmp tubbo #enderwalk #endersmile #dsmp analysis #dsmp #proud of this one tbh #it gets a little more meta than just talking about what happens on screen yk?#rbs appreciated!!

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jawabear · 4 years ago

Text

(2) Rule Breaker (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: so here’s the part two of Rule Breaker. It’s a little bit longer than I originally planned and it is also 87% smut (that’s probably not an accurate figure but you get my point). I hope you enjoy it as much as the first part. This one is happier so...yay. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: fem!reader, smutty things, oral (fem receiving), fingering, *slight* arm kink, can you blame me, Bucky being cute, but also hot, Maybe Bucky is a little shy

Summary: Bucky has another name to add to his list of his amends

Part 1

It had been nearly a month.

Nearly a whole month had past and he hadn’t seen her once. She hadn’t called him or texted him. But he hadn’t called her either. He just assumed that she was done with him now after what he did. But he wasn’t done with her.

“So why don’t you call her?” Dr Raynor asked him as she tilted her head to the side a little.

“She won’t want to speak to me” he mumbled as he fiddled with the leather gloves covering his hands.

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because of the way she looked at me. She smiled but I could see the pain in her eyes. I told you I hurt her. I broke her heart. Why would she ever want to talk to me again?” Bucky question, Dr Raynor could hear slight anger in his voice, something she hadn’t heard in him before. But he was angry at himself, she could tell that.

“Because, if what you’ve told me about her is true, then she isn’t the type of person to cast someone aside after one mishap. Especially not you. You’ve told me she is a forgiving person, James. And she must care for you as much as you care for her, which I can tell is a lot”

“I don’t think she’ll forgive me” he said to himself.

“As a condition of your pardon, you have three rules to follow” Raynor continued “you broke rule number two. You admitted that to me. So now, you have to make amends”

Bucky didn’t say anything and just looked away. For once he actually agreed with her. He did need to make amends. He needed to fix his broken relationship. Fix her broken heart.

“But what if she doesn’t let me?” Bucky muttered under his breath. He was thinking out loud, but it was also a genuine question. What if she didn’t accept his apology? What if she had moved on? Found someone better than him.

“You won’t know until you try” Raynor shrugged. Bucky let out a dry laugh at the comment. Something he had heard since he was kid. “You either try and make amends, or I have you arrested for breaking the terms of your pardon”

“That’s a little extreme don’t you think doc?” He questioned.

“Maybe you need a little extreme to motivate you to do the right thing” he frowned slightly still not looking at her. “Now, I know I haven’t met her. But I have met you before, during and after being with her. And if I’m being honest, I much prefer the person you were during being with her. And I’m sure you do too”

Bucky could stop thinking about Dr Raynor’s words on his way home. There was truth in them that was terrifying to him. He knew she was right. He would have to apologise to her and make amends for breaking rule number two. But the same questions he had asked himself were still lingering in the back of his mind. What if she didn’t accept his apology, and what if she had moved on already?

It wouldn’t be difficult for her in finding another partner. She was perfect and could get anyone she wanted. But he selfishly wanted himself to be the only person she’s with. He felt a little sick at the thought of her being with someone else. They wouldn’t be able to make her happy the way he did. But perhaps at the same time, they wouldn’t break her heart the way he did.

There were too many thoughts in his head. So many that it got to a dangerous point where he felt his head was going to explode. The feelings inside him were ones he hadn’t felt since his HYDRA days. Things he hadn’t felt since being with her. The feelings of fear, anger, and sadness.

Bucky needed her.

He knew why he needed her. He knew why he wanted her. She made everything okay.

When he was with her, it felt as though he was back in Wakanda. Back in his calm. With her, the world wasn’t moving at a million miles a minuet. It moved as fast as he wanted it to move. With her, he felt like he was in control. He felt like he was truly free.

And he wanted that freedom back. He hated that his thoughts were clouded again like before. He hated that he felt so conflicted like before. He hated that he felt so out of control, so trapped, so alone just like before. Only she could make him better. Only she could make him free.

It was late now. It was dark out but the streets were just as busy as they were in the day light. Such is the way of people. Such is the way of the city that never sleeps. But aside from that, he was far more concerned with the fact that in all his clouded judgment his feet had brought him to place he longed to be. Not his own home, but hers.

He knew the road to her place probably better than he did his own. Her place was nicer than his, for starters, she had furniture. And more importantly, it was where she was.

But now Bucky began to feel panic more than anything. Panic that he was stood outside her door and she was most likely inside. He began to quickly weigh up his options. Either leave and try and forget all about her, or stay and hope for the best in apologising to her.

Knowing that trying to forget her and moving one would be utterly impossible for him, his only other option was to knock on her door and stage out his apology.

His metal hand knocked slowly three times on the wood of her door. And so he waited. While waiting, he mapped out a vague script of what he wanted to say to her. But there was so much he wanted to say to her that it was nearly impossible to try and shorten it down. Especially since at any second she could’ve opened the door.

But when her door opened, all his thoughts disappeared. His script was torn up and forgotten. All his earlier emotions of anger, fear and sadness had washed away. He was just happy to see her again. He was overwhelmed at seeing her again. Not just with happiness, but relief and guilt to go along side it too. It was quite a strange feeling. But what mattered more was that she was there in front of him.

“James?” She said quietly. She didn’t looked angry at seeing him. Or sad. She looked a little confused. And her confusion only increased at what he did next.

He didn’t really know what came over him. Perhaps it was the overwhelming emotions that cause him to do what he did. He surged forwards, taking her face in his gloved hands and pushing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss. He walked her backwards into her apartment, the door swinging shut and locking behind them.

Bucky didn’t know where here was walking her too. Just to the nearest stopping point he guessed. That was her kitchen table. The place where most their monumental moments happened. It was where they had their first date, where they shared their first kiss, where they shared their stories and when they both first said ‘I love you’. And now it would be the home of his desperate plea for her forgiveness.

He pulled his trembling lips from her but still held her face in his hands. He didn’t care about the tears falling down his face, and he didn’t care that he probably looked crazy, his emotions were building up inside him and his words tumbled from his lips.

“I know I...I have no right to be here. No right to be...kissing you after what I did. But (Y/N)...I want you to know how sorry I am. I’m so sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to. I was just...scared. So scared of being in a relationship. Scared of being with you. Being with someone so perfect. I don’t deserve you. But I love you” he sobbed as he began kissing her again “I love you so much. You are what I’m looking for. I only want you. I only need you”

He was expecting her to push him away which is why he was so desperate to kiss her for as long as he could, he was terrified that this would be the last chance he would ever get to be with her.

She did push him away but not forever. She smiled at him and took his face in her gentle hands, wiping away his fast flowing tears that didn’t cease no matter how hard he tried to conceal them. “You don’t need to apologise to me, Bucky” she whispered “even though it did hurt, I accepted your reasoning. I understand that for someone like you, being in a relationship is probably terrifying. I just wanted you to be happy which I why I let it go. But in a selfish way, I want you to be happy with me. Because I love you Bucky. And I’ll always be here to love you. I’ll always be here for you”

Bucky didn’t reply but instead forced his lips on hers again in a more passionate kiss than before. She smiled into the kiss and slipped her arms around his neck. He moved his around her waist and lifted her off the floor, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he carried her to her bedroom still knowing the exact path to take to get there.

He lay her in the centre of her bed, putting her down gently carful not to damage the precious being that she was. He pulled his lips off her and pressed a light kiss to her forehead “you do make me happy. Happier than anyone else has” his hands began to wander over her body and she sank into every touch. “Let me show you how happy you make me” Bucky’s voice was lower now and more rough. It sent a small shiver down her spine and she nodded her head making him chuckle a little.

Bucky’s fingers trialled up under her shirt making her shiver at the cool touch of his metal hand against her warm skin. As his fingers moved up her body, he took her shirt with them. Pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side now trailing kisses down her torso making love to every inch of her bare skin.

“I’m never letting you go again...” he whispered before dragging his tongue down the navel between her breasts, silently thanking what ever god there was above him for the fact she had decided not to wear a bra for whatever reason. “You’re going to be stuck with me forever” he smirked as he looked up at her.

Her hands rose to his cheeks and pulled his face back to hers, pushing her lips against his. “I don’t want to be anywhere else” she muttered against his lips before he shoved his tongue into her mouth.

He hummed against her lips as he licked all the inside of her mouth reclaiming what was his. Her fingers threaded themselves into his soft hair gently tugging on the strands as his tongue still continued its journey inside her wet cavern.

Cool fingers slid back up her sides and the black metal fingers began circling her nipple before pinching it and making her squeak “Bucky” she said breathlessly as he pulled back from her lips looking a little too proud of himself.

“I’ve still got it” he joked making her laugh before he kneaded her breast in his hand. Her head rolled backwards giving him prime access to her luscious neck that he loved so much. Bucky waisted no time in attaching his lips to her neck, sucking on that perfect spot while still gently squeezing at her breast. Her hands fell to his shoulders, gripping them lightly as she pressed her knees against his hips, trying in vain to suppress the wetness forming between her legs.

(Y/N) curled her fingers, rolling the fabric of his jacket in them making her groan a little. She wanted to feel him again. But not with this jacket on, not with his shirt on either. But she was far to content in the lush feeling of the way he so expertly made love to her neck. His tongue massaging her skin before sinking his teeth into it and them going back to rubbing his tongue over it. It was a pattern. A cycle. One that she desperately loved.

But right now, what she would love more than that, was to see that well built body of his. “Bucky” She hummed as she began pushing at his shoulders slightly, a signal for him to pull away. When he did, he looked down at her in concern, worried he had done something wrong.

“What is it?” He asked quickly. Her hands slipped down his front, unzipping his jacket as they went before she slid her fingers up under his shirt tracing the outline of his abs.

“I want to see you..” she whispered dangerously close to his lips. He let out what could only be described as a growl before shrugging off his jacket before sending it off in the same direction as he had her shirt. He sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head before flinging that too to the slowly growing pile of clothes.

When entering her bedroom, he hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. So the only light that could be seen was that from the hallway of her apartment and the light from the bustling city outside. Both made his body glow like a god. He was simply heavenly.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position. It was now her turn to show him some love. She peppered wet kisses all over his chest, paying more attention to his collar bones, knowing he loved it when she kissed him there. He let out a gasp of almost relief at getting to feel her lips on his body again. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he relished in the feeling of her lips and tongue everywhere on his torso and her hands everywhere else.

But as much as he love it, he had to stop her. He was the one who had to make it up to her. He was the one who had to make amends. Bucky brought his hands down onto her shoulders and pushed her away from him, looking down at her as she looked up at him.

Quite the sight she was. The patched of wet on her neck from his kisses shone in the dim but colourful light from the city. Her eyes were somehow both innocent and devious. And her lips were parted, letting out soft pants that fluttered against his skin.

“This is about you, doll” he whispered to her in a low voice as he carefully pushed her back down onto the bed “this is only about you” she didn’t answer him with words but just gave him a kind look which he took as a sign to continue.

And continue he did.

Once again, his mouth fell on her skin, moving further and further down her body. His fingers hooked into the waist band of her pyjama bottoms making sure to get her underwear as well before effortlessly pulling them down and tossing them to the pile. Now leaving her in all her naked glory. Bucky got to his knees again and looked down at her. She was the heavenly one to him. Glowing like a goddess. Shining like a queen. And she was all his. Bucky smiled at the thought before shuffling further down her bed and slowing himself between her thighs, now face to face with her glistening wetness.

“Oh baby” he whispered, more to himself really. He slipped his arms around her thighs to pulled her closer to him. His tongue slipped out past his lips and teased her clit making her whimper as her finger slid back into his hair. He did thins a couple more times before giving her what she wanted.

His tongue flattened between her folds making her moan and arch her back into the air. “Bucky..” she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her voice trailed off into desperate gasps, rolling her hips into his mouth. He didn’t try to stop her. He was just as desperate for her as she was for him.

His arms tightened around her thighs holding her closer to him, his face now literally buried between her legs eating her out like a starved man. But in some respects he was, he was one month starved of her. He was going to make up for that lost time.

Bucky’s mouth had now fully engulfed her mound making her writhe with pleasure under him, moaning his name and digging her nails into his scalp making his groan in response, the vibrations sent more pleasure coursing through her body. His tongue swirled round and round her clit.

She cried out his name when he sucked harshly on her sensitive bud, her hips bucking up against his mouth “fuck...Bucky..” she panted. But Bucky didn’t respond, he just carried on eating his month overdue meal.

It wasn’t long before she felt her climax approaching. This she didn’t need to vocalise. Bucky could always tell when she was close without her having to say a word. So he went harder making her mouth fall open and her hands go limp in his hair as pleasure consumed every inch of her being. He hummed along with her breathless moans and slowed his tongue, working her through her climax before removing his mouth from her and slipping his arms from her thighs.

“Was that good?” He asked. A rhetorical question. He knew the answer already.

“Yes...” was all she could say, her body still reeling from the intense pleasure.

He kissed his way back up her chest and ghosted his lips over her “do you want some more?” He whispered roughly making her body tingle. (Y/N) couldn’t answer him with words, nor any action. All she could do was whimper in agreement, but that was good enough for him.

Bucky’s fingers wandered back down her sides as he pushed his lips back onto hers in a deep and slightly sloppy kiss, his tongue wasting no time in intruding into her mouth, not that she was in any fit state to deny him access anyway. (Y/N) could feel the cool metal fingers dance along her slick folds and she instinctively spread her legs a little more.

“So you do want more?” He asked with a dark chuckle as he pulled back from her lips again. She looked up at him through her lashes and hazy eyes.

“Yes James...” she whispered knowing what it did to him when she said his name. It drove him crazy. This whole venture had caused great strain in his boxers, he was rock hard but he knew he could hold out for a little longer. He still didn’t feel he had made amends yet.

He sat back in his knees again and ran his hands along the curves of her body, bringing them both between her thighs and dragging both thumbs between her folds. The contrast of his warm flesh and his cold metal thumbs was simply divine. It was making her head spin as he continued to massage her pussy. It was so dizzying that she almost missed his question.

“Which one do you want?” He asked her. She knew it was in reference to which hand she wanted him to finger her with. Ideally she wanted both but she had always favoured his left. Something about that metal arm could work wonders that nothing or no one else could.

(Y/N) brought her hands to his shoulders and glided her right hand down his left arm. The look in her eyes was indication enough that his left was the one she wanted, although, he could’ve guessed that before he even asked. His flesh hand rested on her stomach to hold her hips in place as he sunk two cold fingers into her heated core.

She let out a strangled moan and reached out for his wrist as he began pumping his metal fingers in and out of her soaking pussy. Her eyes bore into the almost black metal of his vibranium arm. She hadn’t, in their month apart, forgotten how much she loved his metal arm, but her memory had failed to replicate just how amazing it made her feel. She became a whimpering and moan mess under his touch, incapable of saying anything other that splutters of his name.

Bucky looked down at his treasure with fond and almost proud eyes. Proud that he was able to bring such a strong willed, beautiful woman down to such a submissive being. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she became utterly at his mercy, she was completely speechless and practically breathless as well.

He didn’t go fast, but he didn’t go slow either. He always knew the perfect pace to set to drive her crazy. His fingers were still just as dizzying as before and she was rendered completely useless under his touch. But that was what he wanted. He wanted her to feel the best she possibly could. He wanted to make her feel the best she possibly could. And he almost was. Almost.

“Bucky...please..” she pleaded.

“Please what baby?” He asked, twisting and turning his fingers inside her making her face twist and turn with pleasure.

“I want...fuck...I want you...” she managed to say. Bucky hummed lightly to himself and eased his fingers out of her, placing her fingers on her clit and guiding them round in circles. She looked at him in confusion but he only smirked down at her.

“I don’t want your pleasure to end, doll” he told her before reaching over to the beside table knowing there would be condoms in there. He was right. He fished one out and took it between his teeth before momentarily climbing off the bed to rid himself of his bottoms layers of clothing.

She watched him with keen eyes as he undressed himself, her fingers still circling her clit as thoughts began to fill her mind of what was to come. With his clothes now gone, he ripped open the foil packet and slipped the item onto his solid length before climbing back onto the bed. He gave her a final look to make sure she was still okay. (Y/N) nodded her head a little, giving him the go ahead.

Her fingers stopped and there was a brief moment between them before he began pushing himself inside her making them both groan in pleasure and relief. “Fuck..” he hissed “I forgot how tight you are”

“Hmm...and I forgot how big you are..” she said, her fingers stroking over his v-line as he continued to sink himself into her.

He let out a long breath as he finally bottomed out in her. He felt weak but in a good way. Perhaps a better way to describe it would be relaxed. He fell onto his forearms either side of her head, his face right up close to hers. “I love you” he whispered.

“I love you” she whispered back with a soft smile. Her hands dropped from his hair falling flat on the pillow, he took it upon his to entangle his fingers with her, gripping her hand lightly as he began to slowly roll his hips along hers.

Out of all the things she loved about Bucky, this was near the top of the list. Not the sex as such. The fact that he always wanted to hold her hands as he fucked her. No matter what position it was, he always found a way to have at least on of her hands in his. She didn’t know why and she didn’t want to ask. She didn’t know if he was really even aware that he did it and she was afraid that if she asked then he would stop. But she guessed that perhaps it was a comfort thing, because it definitely brought comfort to her.

Her room was soon filled with the sound of skin on skin, whimpers, pants, moan and groans, and the sound of them whispering sweet nothing and words of praise to each other as his hips gradually began picking up their pace.

Bucky was in heaven. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to be inside her. To have her slick walls pull him in. She was utterly divine. Despite this though, he didn’t much like hearing the sounds he was making. So he buried his face in her neck again in an attempt to muffled his noises at least. It worked for the most part. She was making him feel so good that he couldn’t suppress his noises, but now the sounds of her were really the only ones he could hear.

And they were music to his ears. Sweet, sweet music as her fingernails dug into the back of his hand. He had now established his pace. Not too fast, not too slow. Not too hard but hard enough to ensure he hit that spot inside her perfectly every time. He wanted her to forget about everting else and just remember this. The here and now. And he though the best way to do that was to send white hot pleasure coursing through her veins, making her see stars and making his name the only thing she could say.

That was most certainly the case. It felt as though her body was on fire. His hips angled perfectly to hit that special spot every time. And his smell. That wonderful smell of his only heightened her pleasure. Filling her nose and making her dizzy. Everything about him was dizzying. But in the best possible way. She wouldn’t have it any different and she certainly wasn’t willing to let him go a second time and risk loosing him forever.

Bucky’s hips seemed to falter briefly as he let out a weak moan, his arms shaking a little too. He was close. And so was she. Both of them were squeezing each other’s hands as he drove his hips just that little bit faster and harder into her, his breath coming out in hot, fast pants against the wet skin of her neck. “(Y/N)...Oh fuck...(Y/N)” he moaned against her.

“B-Bucky...James...come with me” his body shook from hearing his name fall so sweetly off her lips. He managed to pull his head from her neck and slammed his lips down onto her, he always wanted to be kissing her if he could when they came. Just another one of the many things she adored about him.

His breath picked up even more and his fingers began to flex in hers before he rolled his forehead onto hers, their pants of pleasure mixing. He let out a somewhat strangled moan as he came, she followed closely behind him, her walls flexing around his throbbing length as she arched her back into his chest, he knees digging into his waist again.

He began to slow his hips, bringing them both down from their glorious highs. His lips found hers again in lighter kisses. “Fuck...” he whispered “god you’re so good..”

“Me?” She giggled “it’s you who’s the good one”

“Well..” he began between kisses “it takes two to tango I guess”

She all but burst out laughing at this “oh wow!” She said happily making him smile brightly “you are something else Mr Barnes. And I love you for it”

“I love you for a lot of things. That pretty laugh and beautiful smile for one” he told her. He released his hands from hers and slowly pulled out of her before getting off the bed and padding to the bathroom to discard his condom. Whilst he was doing that, (Y/N) sat up, her body still relishing in the pleasure, and leaned over the bed to fish out his shirt before searching for a clean pair of underwear to put on. She also pulled out his boxers knowing he slept in nothing else but them.

She laid them out on the bed before climbing under the sheets and waiting for him to come back. Thankfully it wasn’t long. He walked back into her room in all his naked glory. Her face burned as if she were a teenager seeing a naked body for the first time and not a person who had just been fucked so beautifully by said naked man.

Bucky spied his boxers and picked them up of the bed muttering a thanks as he slipped them on and slipped into bed next to her. Before she had a chance to attempt to snuggle into him, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her neck, holding her flush against him.

For a while, there was a silence between them. It was Bucky who finally broke it by taking in a long breath and letting it back out.

“(Y/N)” he said quietly to her as she slowly ran her fingers through his soft hair. She hummed in response “I really am sorry...for what I did. I don’t really know what I was thinking-“

“Bucky, don’t” she stopped him from continuing his pointless apology “I’ve already forgiven you and I was never angry with you in the first place. I told you already. I understand your reasoning. But I don’t want to hear you apologising any more. It’s in the past. Now, I just want to spend each day with you”

“You will because I don’t want to leave you and I don’t want you to leave me. I want a constant in my life that isn’t just regret or pain. I want happiness and love. And only the happiness and love that you give me”

“I don’t plan on ever letting you go that easy again Bucky. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me”

“Perfect”

15/04/21

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #tfatws #marvel #sebastian stan #angst #fluff #smut #fanfic

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inknopewetrust · 4 years ago

Text

In Another Universe Part 3 (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Summary: You are trying to normalize a world without Marcus, months after you snapped back to Earth. But in that other universe, an accident occurs in their mission to bring you back.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader (We Can Be Heroes/MCU Crossover)

Word Count: 2.08k

Warnings: Nothing, just some language.

A/N: So... it’s embarrassing how long this part took to be published. If you’ll except an apology, I’ll be the first to beg for forgiveness. On the other hand... here’s part 3! Part 4 will be the conclusion of this miniseries so thank you for reading thus far and stay tuned for that. Right now requests are CLOSED but I am going to open them again soon when I get through the ones I have waiting and I’ll be adding L&O:SVU characters to the list. :)

Pain is a difficult concept to understand.

There are infinite reasons to feel a certain kind of pain or to be in a specific kind of pain, but no one can truly understand it until it happens to them. Which in the case of you, is no one.

At some point during the last five months, you had made a move to Clint’s farm. James thought it would be better for you to not be in the city where your closest friends were gone and weren’t returning. It was the constant memories of Natasha holding your hand when things got rough or Tony obnoxiously slapping you on the shoulder in a message of congratulations.

There were so many memories that simply seeped through the walls, both physically and metaphorically, but it wasn’t as if a move was going to change that. All you wanted was to move, home, to Marcus and Missy and the life you had built in what James had called ‘Earth 2.’

Earth 2.

Earth 2 was the only Earth that mattered to you and his deflection of it being secondary to the one that only caused pain was hurtful. But it wasn’t like he was going to understand that. So, you took up the offer to move to Clint’s farm and the second you landed and walked off the jet, you regretted the decision.

Clint was surrounded by love. His wife, his daughter, his sons. They were everything and nothing to you at the same time. Clint had his own problems to deal with upon meeting a young woman who took up skills like his own and often left you with Laura and his children.

Laura kept you occupied with small projects as they were renovating the barn and their basement, but it was just as mundane as the topics of conversation she tried to engage in. But with even the slightest mention of Nat, or Steve, or Tony, or the world you left behind, you shut down.

It was intentional, but it wasn’t avoidable. Pain wasn’t avoidable when it was buried so deep.

But there were the occasional good days. Like today.

Laura had taken the boys to soccer practice and promised Lila a day out at the aquarium. She extended the offer to you but she never thought you would accept. When you did, she was pleasantly surprised and also promised she would pay for lunch too. It was rare that you would pass up the opportunity to snag a free lunch because you obliged and allowed her to plan the day.

‘Maybe a day out would be good.’ You thought to yourself as you readied everything to go. For the first time in months you put effort into your appearance. A bit of makeup, nicer clothes, and shoes that weren’t scuffed or covered in dirt from the non-existent basement floor.

And for what it was worth, the day was good. You allowed yourself to just enjoy, learn, and watch a mother interact with her daughter and in turn, the daughter made you feel like the aunt Clint had always told her you were. Lila saw the effort and wanted to make you feel as welcome and as loved as possible.

And as the cracks of a broken soul begin to slowly merge together–where time would surely heal it to properly function again, a wrench is thrown to stop it.

James Rhodes wasn’t sure how it exactly happened.

He had been standing against a lab table, watching Clint (the only other resident at the compound at the moment) work on his bow. The two were making small conversation about their day to day lives since everything had gone down just a few months ago. While Clint had just finished installing a replacement valve on the base of the basket that held his arrows. It hadn’t been turning properly and the only place that would have the parts was Tony’s former playground. Then an earthquake occurred... or what they could equate to an earthquake.

Neither of them had ever been a witness to one, but the ground shook violently, quickly, with little give. Parts fell off tables and the two men grabbed at whatever they could to remain steady. By the time they had steadied themselves, the movement stopped. It was followed then, only then, by a loud crashing noise about a floor below and glass breaking. Clint was the first to reach for his bow and James grabbed the closest gun he could find. Neither of them thought anything other than “my god, what Thanos level shit is it now.”

Like the sleuth heroes they were, they managed to silently exit the lab and descend the stairs without so much as a creek. The living space that was located on the third floor was relatively untouched but the sound had echoed from the room. As soon as they turned around from the steps, they realized their suspicions were correct but it didn’t look like a Thanos level threat.

Behind the couch, the broken lamp that had no bulb laid on the ground beside a man. A man dressed in black tactical gear and swords sheathed on his back. He had other small weapons on his clothes but none of them were drawn and from the reflection of the glass window, Clint could see a perplexed look on his seemingly worn face. Although he didn’t feel the man was particularly threatening, Clint drew up his bow and held it steady from his position before calling out to him.

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

Cheesy, he knew it was but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know where the hell this guy came from and he could easily be a sorcerer or God even though he looked like a regular Joe.

“Sir, I need you to show us your hands!” James was more assertive from behind Clint but didn’t move from his position. Ever since the accident years ago, James took a step back whenever he didn’t have his armor on.

The man had flinched a bit upon hearing their voices. He slowly raised his hands as asked and turned around to meet the eyes of two men who he had never met. Their weapons drawn on him but not unfamiliar to other situations he had been in before. This time, it was just more human.

“Who are you?” The one with short hair, a bow, asked him with a hesitant, gruff voice.

“Where am I?”

The man spoke their language—maybe not an alien.

“I asked you first who are you?”

“Where am I? Where is-“

“I do not want to have to shoot you, who are you?” James was aggravated, perhaps a little scared but he wouldn’t shoot unless the man made any aggressive moments toward them.

“M-Marcus. My name is Marcus.” Marcus’ voice was firm but scared. He didn’t know where he was. It was all an accident. One minute he was testing the machine and the next he was moving through a kaleidoscope of colors until he saw a blinding light and landed on a lamp in the middle of a futuristic looking living room.

There was a moment of realization in the bow-wielders face that gave Marcus a second of hope. Had this really worked? Was this your world?

“Alright Marcus, I am going to need you to tell me where you came from and how you got here.” The one with the gun in Marcus’ eyes began to move around the one with bow. He held out his hand calmly, signaling to Marcus that he wasn’t a threat but was protecting himself and his friend out of precaution. Marcus did not move his hands but nodded in agreement. What did he have to hide when he was now in an unfamiliar land with weapons pointed at his chest?

“I don’t know how I got here. I work for a team and we were trying to get someone back. I was working on it but something went wrong.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Our teammate.”

Clint knew it was him. This had to have been the man you talked about with him and James was getting that sense as well. He was exactly as you spoke, handsome with a slight carelessness to his appearance. He had a mustache and his name was literally Marcus. It couldn’t have been anyone else, though they had no idea how in the universe he found his way to the middle of the Avengers living room.

“Marcus, I am going to ask you a series of questions I need you to be honest with me.” Clint put down his bow this time and James looked at him with wide eyes but continued to hold his stance.

“Does your world look like this one?”

Marcus took a second to let his eyes drift out the windows around them. The world looked similar, almost an exact copy. He had remembered your startled realization that his world was just as similar to your own even though it wasn’t the same one. It was a strange concept that was hard to grapple with.

“Yes.”

“Do you have a daughter, Marcus?”

“What?” This absolutely terrified him. As much as he wanted to be hopeful to find you, a mention of his daughter in a new world was not what he wanted. Now the question if he even escaped his own world and found himself in a new one was wavering. These people couldn’t possibly know he had a daughter unless they were familiar with the Heroics.

“Do you have a daughter? I need you to answer this so I can-”

“Yes. Yes, I have a daughter.”

“Missy?”

Marcus nodded his head and Clint looked at James who lowered his gun now. This was that Marcus. This was your Marcus and he was here to find you.

“And what can you tell me about Y/n?”

His heart leapt out of his chest with a fury at the mention of your name.

“She’s my-my she’s-”

Clint nodded his head and officially dropped his bow before extending his hand for Marcus to shake.

“My name is Clint Barton, maybe she mentioned me, I don’t know. But she’s talked plenty about you.”

“She’s here?” It came out just above a whisper as he met Clint’s hand.

“Y/n is with my wife at our farm. I can take you to her.”

It was like that final stretch of battle you had described to him before. This was his endgame, his chance for peace with you and the friends you left behind for years are willing to help make that come true. Much to his word, Clint prepared a jet to set off to the farm and James kept Marcus from stirring alone in his thoughts. It wasn’t as if the reunion would be soured because the relationship ended, no, quite the opposite, but the idea that maybe you would rather stay with the people who you had always been around was an invasive thought. James had eased those thoughts with stories of your return and subsequent difficultly to adapt to this life. That wasn’t an easy thing to hear, but it meant that somewhere inside you, you believed that life was better with Missy and himself.

James reassured him that you were very much in love with him. You had told the two of them about your “other” life, about the team, Missy, Mrs. Moreno, and everyone else who made that other world home.

Home.

By the time James had gotten around to recalling the moment you had realized you loved Marcus, Clint had come back, gathered his own bags and motioned to the jet.

“Looks like he’s ready to go.” James said and gave Marcus a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“She deserves to be happy and I know with you she’ll have that. It’s what they would have wanted.”

“Thank you for your help. I don’t think I would have found her otherwise.” Marcus chuckled but couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. It was a contagious one because the two men couldn’t help but feel the love the radiated off the man. They were happy for you and if leaving this world for another meant you would finally be at peace, then that is what it meant.

“Go get her, Marcus.”

-------------------------

Tag list for series:

@pasckles @jupitersmooneuropa @agingerindenial @karnita-mexicana @mcueveryday @shadowolf993 @computeringturtle @roxypeanut

#marcus moreno #Marcus Moreno x OC #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #we can be heroes #Netflix We Can Be Heroes #We can be heroes x Reader #x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #netflix #x female reader

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gendercensus · 4 years ago

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when i completed the census i put my gender in as "f*g" (the f slur) and im pretty sure i put it in as censored just in case you didnt wanna like. see that. but when i use it its uncensored. will this affect the results?

Okay so I think the easiest way to explain this is with a gender word that is not controversial, so that I can show it uncensored without causing trouble!

Words get sorted by exact spelling. This is because there are some words where the asterisk is an important part of the word, such as “trans with an asterisk” (trans*).

Let’s say that a bunch of people typed nonbinary in the textboxes, but spelled it in various ways and sometimes censored it with an asterisk, and they also varied the place where they put the asterisk:

nonbinary - 67

non binary - 21

non-binary - 45

n*nbinary - 5

nonb*nary - 13

The above examples would all be counted separately in the spreadsheet, when really they should be counted as the same word and have a higher percentage, therefore a greater chance that it should be added to the checkbox list next year.

One of my jobs is to spot which of the more popular type-ins are being spelled in diverse ways, and find a way to count them together so that everything is on the checkbox list that should be. The first time this happened was when I noticed that “gender non-conforming” was being typed in a lot, including abbreviated to GNC, and I had to find a way to count them all without having to scroll through thousands of rows of spreadsheet to count them manually!

With the above bullet point list, I would write a formula (probably a query) to count the instances of each spelling variation and then add them all together. If it went over 1% of the type-ins, I would choose the most popular spelling for the checkbox list for next year. In this example the result would be “nonbinary - 151″.

Having said all that, I don’t do this for every word that has more than one spelling. I only do it for words that are consistently being entered in pretty high numbers, because if I did it for every word it would be prohibitively time-consuming and exhausting. This year there are already several thousand unique textbox identity words! And I’m keeping an eye on maybe 10 or so words that are being typed in quite a lot, but most of them are levelling out at about 0.5%, give or take. (Currently one is over 1% in the over-30s category and might be added to the checkbox list next year, but it’s close - anything could happen before 10th March!)

While I do appreciate people being thoughtful and censoring words in order to spare me discomfort, I think I would say that I have not yet found a word that needed censoring for me personally. Slurs and bad language don’t bother me at all, and censoring words in the survey can make them harder to count, spreadsheet-wise. If you normally spell it without an asterisk for yourself, there is no need to add an asterisk on my account. <3

(I have always been a bit baffled about the tendency for people to use symbols to censor words! I think the use of asterisks probably originated with people trying to sidestep rules against swearing, or trying to dodge language filters in automated systems. This relies on a word being easily human-readable while also technically not being the slur. (”Technically I didn’t swear, I typed f*ck!”) So since by design I can always tell which word people are communicating to me, putting asterisks doesn’t actually spare me any feelings. But perhaps that’s just me? Perhaps other people find the meaning of the word they’re reading gets softened when the writer swaps out some letters.)

Edit:

@draconic-dreams replied to say:

I personally find it illogical but it is a nice marker that the person using it is being considerate of the potential implications. On the internet where it's hard to tell through text what someone means it's as good a way as any of saying ‘in the non-agressive sense’

That’s a good point, thank you! :) And yeah, I can see that knowing someone was trying to be considerate would soften the emotional impact of a slur, too.

#meta #slurs

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lichfucker · 3 years ago

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i would love to hear about why all of the ted lasso characters would fail survivor but especially rebecca

hhh ALL of them... okay the vast majority of the players can be explained away with just "physical prowess enough to make them a threat in individual challenges but dumb as bricks and would not be able to strategize themselves out of a bad spot"

this is abt to get long lmao so I'm putting individual ppl under the cut

nate is the most obvious first boot I honestly feel bad about it. bumbling, socially awkward, has NO idea how to assert himself without being an asshole about it (in the rare instances when he does assert himself at all), and even if he's smart enough to be a great strategist (which he absolutely IS), he can't convey it well enough to convince his tribe to overlook his (probable) lack of challenge ability. most of the time, people don't want to draw harsh lines in the sand on the very first vote so they can pretend everyone's getting along and still friends, so nate would be a sort of freebie vote that it'd be easy to agree on.

beard is too much of a follower. what ted says to dr sharon abt him is, "that man has had many lives, many masters." he's very comfortable being led by people with stronger personalities, and even when he disagrees with their calls he will still execute them like a perfect little lackey. the thing about beard is that I think he'd go VERY far in a season of survivor! I think he could EASILY make it all the way to the end! but I just don't think he can WIN. he's genius-level intelligent and SO strategically savvy, but more than that he is fiercely loyal. he'll attach himself to the right person (or the wrong person, as it were), and even if he is whispering in that person's ear all the way through, he would be TOO content to let them take all the credit, he wouldn't push back against them if they disagree with his plans and make a lesser move instead (the whole beginning of 'beard after hours' is him berating himself for not standing up and making the hard calls even when he knew they'd be better), he wouldn't turn around and slit that person's throat at the end to further his own game, and he would make himself socially impenetrable to everyone else. nobody could get close to him, nobody could like or understand him, he'd probably be seen as good collateral if the opposition couldn't strike directly at whomever beard works with, and if he DOES make it to final tribal, I think he'd have a very difficult time convincing the jury that he deserves the credit and the limelight. he wants to win, I just don't think he believes he deserves to.

ted and roy actually would have the exact same problem, which is "physically and strategically competent, but so FUCKING ANNOYING to live with that they get booted for the sake of tribal quality of life." roy would isolate himself socially with his aggression, and ted...

ted is the antithesis of what a "good survivor player" ought to be, which I actually think could work to his advantage in a number of ways? like I think more typical players would find him incredibly unpredictable because he's sharp enough to see what the best moves are, but generous and self-sacrificing enough not to make them. like, there's a reason he's a coach and not a player. there's a reason he says that he doesn't measure success in wins and losses. if he could survive the first few votes, his social game would be AMAZING-- the entire first season of the show is about him wearing rebecca down through the sheer magnitude of his friendship! lesser survivor players would be so endeared to him that they couldn't fathom voting him off, but they're the ones who are getting picked off in his stead. moderately savvy survivor players would not trust a single word out of ted lasso's mouth; there's no fucking way a man can be this kind and this sincere, not on survivor, it's just not possible, he must be plotting something MASSIVE, we have to strike first before he gets his chance. and the truly brilliant survivor players would realize that he IS genuine, he IS sincere, he IS loyal and giving to his core, and that's DANGEROUS. you can't let someone like that make it to the end or they'll take your million dollars. best to shut it down at the jump.

and above all that, I just think that ted... ted would thrive in the pre-merge, in the tribal portion of the game, he's SO team-oriented, but post-merge, in the individual game... perhaps if he had a solid alliance he could also feel that way about, then it might suit his temperament, but ultimately I think he just. wouldn't want it badly enough. I just think the significant majority of people would be vastly more self-interested than ted would be, so they'd take the shot first.

higgins is an interesting midpoint between all three of nate, beard, and ted, in that he's a henchman through and through even when he disagrees with his boss, he's a pushover who'd be seen as a liability in physical challenges in the early game, and he's off-puttingly friendly and polite to the point that nobody would trust that he's being sincere even though he absolutely is. early boot, maybe second or third.

maybe it's just because I've got cook islands on the brain, but jamie (esp season 1 jamie but like. season 2 as well lmao) would play A LOT like early ozzy. an arrogant wonder-boy who's good at everything (did you know there's literally a survivor casting archetype called the "amazing ace"?), with a heart-wrenching underdog story (playing for richmond, that is), an absolute beast in challenges, a huge threat but always immune, he'd win his way to the end but ultimately be beaten out in final tribal by someone smart enough to have dragged him along as their meat shield the whole game.

and as for rebecca... g-d. this one I think hurts me the most because she has everything going for her, she doesn't have a single one of the problems I've listed for anyone else, but I do genuinely believe that rebecca still loses. she's strong and she's smart and she's assertive and she's ruthless and she's sociable and she's a great liar and she's ambitious and she's ADAPTIBLE (she immediately bounces back after not getting the sun to run the photo of ted and keeley and comes up with an alternate plan that will still serve her own endgame, and by g-d being able to roll with the punches and change course is the single most important thing a survivor player can do), but rebecca still loses.

even if we set aside the fact that survivor on the whole is not particularly kind to women over 40... season 1 rebecca, especially early season 1 rebecca, is spite-motivated to the point of self-destruction. she will set her sights on one target and she will be relentless in her effort to get that person out and it'll make her so myopic that she won't see her own end coming immediately afterwards. nobody on that tribe wants to be her next victim-- better get rid of her once she's proven what she's capable of.

she's also dreadfully insecure in the wake of her divorce and when her polished veneer cracks enough to let it show (how many days of being rained on do we think it'll take for her to slip? my guess is five), some people will see it as the vulnerability that finally allows them to connect with her on a human level, while others will see it as a threatening endgame storyline and an exploitable weakness.

there are some juries, particularly old-school juries, that wouldn't vote for her in the end purely based on the fact that a million dollars is just a drop in the bucket to a woman like rebecca mannion welton. that would be a real shame, and a disservice to the game she would have had to play just to make it that far.

what's more likely than that, though, in my opinion, is that rebecca... loses the drive to win. I think that somewhere along the way survivor stops being a game that she is playing, stops being a competition, and instead becomes a journey of personal growth through adversity. I think she, like ted, stops measuring her success in wins and losses. I think she proves herself more capable and resilient than she ever thought she could be, and that is worth more to her than the money or the title of sole survivor, and she stops fighting for it. and maybe the jury admires that, and gives it to her anyway, rewards her transformation. or maybe they don't. maybe they view it as a concession, a forfeit. but I'm not certain that that moment of revelation happens at the final tribal council. I think it happens just before. I think it happens after the final immunity challenge, and she tearfully and valiantly allows herself to be voted out just inches from the finish line. I think rebecca is the fallen angel of the season, and she goes off to the jury with her head held high, which is nice, and so very noble of her, and the fans would be DYING to have her play again but she wouldn't, because she'll have gotten everything she could have wanted out of her survivor experience, and she doesn't need the crown on top of it.

I think rebecca COULD win. she just WON'T.

#jockjamsandjellies #thanks jack #bluh bluh #honestly I'm a little tipsy and this hurt me to write #rebecca's arc in the show of her becoming a better person is literally an arc of her becoming a worse survivor player #and that's not to say that it's impossible for someone who's kind and honest and open-hearted to win survivor!!#bc plenty of those people have!#it's just that... I think she'd end up pulling a rafe in guatemala and valiantly falling on the sword right at the end for NO REASON #when victory was otherwise all but guaranteed!#also I didn't mention ted's panic attacks at all because I do not believe they would matter lmao I've seen multiple seasons #where people had panic attacks during challenges that they weren't even participating in #and then those people made it all the way to final tribal and one of them even won #survivor #ted lasso

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mylittlegemlins · 3 years ago

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Hello tumblr, during my childhood I was really obsessed with smurfs and since I found out that they released a reboot, which unfortunately I haven´t yet been able to see, I think I had some inspiration and ended up writing this.

I don't usually post this kind of blog about series unless I'm too immersed in it because I feel like it's too childish but to hell, blogging about-analyzing series for kids is my entertainment method and if I can't post about my likes on Tumblr I don't know why have an account.

So I present:

How to catch the Smurfs

This is the definitive tutorial on everything Gargamel ever did to catch the little blue critters.

It is based mainly on the animated series from the 80s and the 3 films that were produced between 2011-2017, I watched several episodes again to write this, but I still hope I don't forget some important information.

Following these steps:

1. Why catch the Smurfs?

During the comics, the series and the recent movies there were many reasons why Gargamel and other humans wanted to capture the Smurfs that change over time, among its main uses we have:

- They are ingredients for exotic dishes.

-Turn them into gold

- Ingredient for the Philosopher's Stone

- Use its essence to obtain magic

- Their tears serve as an ingredient for spells

-Their skin serves as a treatment to cure diseases

2. Points to consider:

This is a set of rules that fall between the lines when using a Smurf for any of the recipes mentioned above.

2.1 How many are needed:

In some episodes Gargamel was about to cook a single Smurf, so 1 is enough to eat them.

To turn them into gold you need at least half a kilo, about 6 smurfs.

2.2. They don't need to be alive

I didn't remenber any place where it said that Smurfs must be alive to use them in recipes.

2.3. Smurfette doesn't always count

She has to be a real smurf or else it won't work, during her first appearance before the papa smurf spell and the episode "smurfette unmade" where she reverts to her original form she is not a real smurf, so it wouldn't work unless that is in its blonde form.

2.4. Fake Smurfs:

The reason Gargamel can't just create another Smurf and use it in his recipes is because his creations are blue clay with a conscience, to turn them into real Smurfs you need the “true blue”spell

2.5. Artificial Smurfs:

Smurfette, Sassete, Kactus, Vicky and any other Smurf they come up with in the future, count as real Smurfs only after their transformation.

To clarify the points, these are the steps:

3.Locate them

The Smurfs are in a village protected by a magical force that makes it invisible or unreachable, it is only possible to find the village if a Smurf guides you to it, even after finding the exact location it will have disappeared if you try to return, so the best It is marks the surroundings of the village and look for them in the places that the Smurfs frequent.

It is possible to capture them when they leave the village, force them to guide you, enter the village using teleportation spells or hoaxes.

4.Traps

Catching smurfs is relatively easy, you can chase them with butterfly nets, catch them with your bare hands, using a cat or any other hunting animal, now that I think about it a hound would be very useful to track their scent.

Using some classic traps to hunt animals also works with Smurfs, traps with cages or hidden holes in the ground, or camouflage in a bush until a Smurf is close enough to catch it, you can't use traps like an obvious cage with food in it, they are too smart to fall for that.

It is more effective if they are placed in strategic places such as a field of smurfberries which is outside the village.

Small female creatures are also used as decoys, such as female smurfs, little mermaids and lymph to make a smurf fall in love and thus leave the village to a point where they can be captured.

5.Which Smurfs to capture

Personally I think there are Smurfs that are easier to catch, although Gargamel could not have a list of all with so many times that they have passed by his house, he should already recognize one or another Smurf and I remember that there is a episode where he knows some of his names.

The main cast, Smurfette, Hefty, Brainy, Clumsy, Greedy, Grouchy, Jokey and Handy as far as i can remember, they´re the ones that have been captured the most times and also the ones that have escaped the most, since they're easy to capture, it would be convenient to take advantage of this, but since they know how to get out, they should change the cages with them, put the cages in another place, move the objects that previously used to get out, and above all not to fall the same tricks again.

Papa smurf has been captured many times, he is the one who most leaves the village and if in one of his trips they capture him, maybe the others would not notice his absence, it is something difficult because he already knows how to escape and he can use spells against you, but if you manage to kill him the others would be lost without their leader, and with the disaster they would be easier to capture.

Lazy smurf takes naps during his work outside the village so it's a good chance to catch him, hopefully he might still be asleep while preparing the recipe and he won't try to escape.

According to his debut episode sickly smurf was never able to escape from Gargamel and Azrael; it is so easy that he catches him with his bare hands in 20 seconds.

Baby Smurf is more vulnerable for obvious reasons, the negative side is that there is always a Smurf looking after him, but if they manage to separate the baby it would be easy to cook , considering the life expectancy of the Smurfs is more than 500 years, it may remain a baby for the next 10 years so there is time to execute your plan.

Nat, Snapy, Sassete and Slouchy, the 4 children Smurfs that appear in season 5 are in almost the same circumstances as Baby Smurf.

In Wild Smurf's first appearance he kicked Gargamel in the face and easily made Azrael afraid of him so it might not be a good idea to mess with him.

I guess Smurfs like scaredy would never leave the village unless they forced it so the only times he gets caught is when they capture all 100 together.

6.Don't let them escape

In many occasions the Smurfs escape when they have already been captured by Gargamel, either from his hands, cages and in their closest attempts they escape from the pot.

These are the points to keep in mind:

6.1 Capture only one

If you capture a single Smurf than two or more as it will take a while for them to realize that one is missing and they will not come to their rescue, the more they are, the more likely they will find a plan to escape, so keep them in mind. separate cages.

6.2 The others will come

Once Gargamel has one or more Smurfs, it is 100% certain that the others will come to rescue him at his house, so it would be convenient to go to another place away from the forest where he can cook the Smurfs without others being able to find them. Gargamel has a basement with a secret door, he was able to hide there and pretend he didn't have them until the rescuers leave.

6.3 catch rescuers

Knowing that more Smurfs could come, you could use it to your advantage by placing traps on the doors and windows, or on the contrary, closing everything so that it is impossible to enter without having a key.

6.4 They will leave him for dead

In the episode "the tear of a Smurf ", it seems that if they don't find a missing Smurf it only takes a week for them to surrender and prepare for his funeral. You can hide the smurfs with their mouths tied up in a drawer and pretend you don't know what they are talking about until they give up, then it will be time to execute the recipes. If Gargamel had enough brain cells to keep the secret, he could eat the Smurfs and the rest would think they were eaten by birds or something and would not take revenge.

6.5. Do not look any further

If you already have 99 it is enough, even if you have only one, it is not worth risking it to find one more, it is a trap.

6.6. Don't open jokey surprises.

The characters always forget that gift.

6.7. Don't listen to them

On several occasions they try to make conversation to buy time, they trick him into thinking that he will bring more Smurfs or that he cannot eat him, everything is a trap.

6.8. Just kill them

He never did that but it's a very obvious choice, I don't remember somewhere saying that smurfs have to be alive for recipes, Gargamel has repeatedly expressed his desire to destroy them. Wouldn't it be easier to kill them before throwing them into the pot? if you can't, they don't even have to be dead, just unconscious or asleep. Gargamel has drops of lava in his lab for some reason, how come he doesn't have substances to knock them unconscious? In case he have many captured you could use classic techniques such as placing the cage in a tub of water until they drown, even stepping on them would be enough since they are very small.

6.9. Papa Smurf's books

If Gargamel tries to kill them with an epidemic, papa will have the cure, if he casts a spell, papa has the antidote, since he has been in the village on several occasions, he should take the opportunity to steal or destroy their books, he could look for the true blue spell and perhaps find another useful spell.

7.Enjoy your smurf soup

If that's all i came up with, you can already eat or become a millionaire at the cost of a smurf's life, hopefully you'll have to face a horrible revenge from papa smurf, but i'm not responsible for that.

8.Other methods to get smurfs:

This is a set of theories for alternative ways to get smurfs without capturing one from the village.

8.1. create smurfs:

In the second live action movie gargamel gets the formula for the true blue spell, so from here technically he could create smurfs, then transform them into real smurfs and do whatever he wants with them, during the series he had to look for the formula instead to look for smurfs.

8.2. Clone Smurfs:

In the episode "the hundredth smurf" Vanity creates a clone of himself that eventually integrates into the village, it is a genetically exact clone so there is no doubt that it is a real smurf. He just needs to place a mirror in front of a smurf and get it struck by lightning, Gargamel could capture a smurf and make clones that will work, he wouldn't even have to keep the original and he would have an infinite smurf machine.

8.3. Kidnap Baby Smurfs:

During the blue moon it is possible that a zork came to the village bringing a baby smurf, it can take up to 200 years without bringing one but if you are alive when that happens, you can try to hunt the zork and capture the defenseless baby.

8.4. Repeat the fake smurf technique:

If it is possible to create fake Smurfs like Smurfette, it might work on a second try, Smurfs are not very cautious around strangers, once Smurfette arrives in the village no one wonders where she came from or why she was in the forest, but rather Immediately they offer him a house, Gargamel could create a smurf and this time instruct him to lead all the smurfs in the village into a trap and make sure he does not turn good, he can also turn himself into a life-size smurf costume, Nobody will notice that there is an extra Smurf and he can repeat the same trap,third time’s a charm

9.Conclusion:

Surely there are many other methods to catch Smurfs but I can't see the whole series again even if I wanted to, because it is a series for children Gargamel never learns from his mistakes I think that catching Smurfs is not that exaggeratedly difficult, especially for someone who has access to magic may be as difficult as capturing a talking rabbit, Gargamel is just stupid.

The end.

#the smurfs #hashtag so that the blog is not invisible #smurfette #gargamel #azrael #brainy smurf #sassete #sickly smurf #no smurf was harmed during the making of this blog #vanity smurf #papa smurf #clumsy smurf #smurf village #I should look for some images #ready #a picture

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everafterkeiji · 4 years ago

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Song: Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

Summary: Who knew that a certain street can bring back a love that grew in distance?

Pairings: Keiji Akaashi x gn! reader

Tags, Genre: Timeskip! Akaashi, ex! lovers, slight angst, a tad bit of fluff

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: this is my late Valentine's gift for y'all<3 this is also the last story for my tiny event so pls let me know if you enjoyed this story and the rest!

What if I’m not ready for the next chapter?

You had your hands behind you as you felt the odd urge for your feet to lead them to him, but the two meter distance tells you otherwise.

“This is it then?”

He asks, biting his tongue to resist the words that wanted to escape him. Abundant sentences were locked in his throat and they each consisted of reasons why he’s suddenly had a change of mind in your agreement.

You sadly nod but he sees the way you quickly look down as a drop falls to the ground, followed by another, then another. He loathed how you hastily wiped your eyes as you formed a smile on your lips, catching his fallen heart.

“I guess it is, Akaashi.”

Then you waited.

Waited for those words to be exchanged from the both of you but none even came close to the tips of your tongues, both scarred at how the silence grew.

Your expectations were headed in one direction only and that was downwards. The reality of how bitter it was rose to reality while the sky was painted the hue of romance, mirroring the depthless amor you had for each other.

So you were ready, at least you thought you were.

Turning your heel, he calls out for you. A tone that held his pleas in secret, he didn’t realize how he was begging for you to stay with the slight crack in his voice.

“Y/N I-“

Say it, Akaashi. Please, do it for me.

You could land on your knees to pray for everything to be different from what they are now. It looked like everything was set in stone for him but it wasn’t for you. This was a situation you two have discussed about but how come the time where you two are finally taking different directions, it felt too unbelievable at how fast time has come to be?

“See you soon, Y/N.” He continues and this takes a massive hit to your heart. You visualized a completely different sentence then this but instead it was another wake-up call to you. Suddenly, the pages in your book were left unwritten and it seemed like the love story was fading without a happy ending.

But he never really said goodbye did he?

“You too, Keiji.”

With that you two walk in different directions but the string tied on your hearts remained to the both of you as it follows the more miles you reached.

“Congrats, Akaashi! I’m so proud of you! We should celebrate!” Bokuto cheers over the phone, prancing around his apartment while the setter smiles, adjusting his glasses before dragging the zipper of his bag to close it.

“Thanks, Bokuto but let’s meet after this week is that alright?” Akaashi says while he enjoys the night breeze with only the streetlights to guide him where his heart calls home. He could see the way Bokuto would pout at his declined offer as he lets out a chuckle.

“Congratulations, Akaashi-san!” Hinata screams beside Bokuto before they return to their little movie night with the rest of the MSBY team. He was happy to hear from the younger boy, it’s been a while since he’s gone on a meet-up with Bokuto and Hinata but he was thankful at how supportive they were of him even if their paths never met.

“Thank you seriously. I’ll call you when I have some free time. I just have to go somewhere okay?” Bokuto’s smile slumps as he realizes just exactly where he was planning to go but he figured that if this was one way that Akaashi could cope with the wasted years, he lets him be.

It’s the sanctuary for his weakened heart.

“I understand. Don’t stay for too long okay?” Bokuto says, sincerity in his voice. If Akaashi has an endless list of the ex-captains' weaknesses, Koutaro was the only one who knew the boy's kryptonite.

And one touch of it destroys him in every possible way.

“I won’t but thank you. I’ll see you soon.” Keiji bids goodbye to him and ends the call while disregards the voice in his head to control himself going back to same route. With how many times he visits the place, he feels as if he’s memorized every creak on the sidewalk, the exact colors of the houses near it, even the positions of the streetlights that he uses to retrace his steps when he’s on the way home. As he stares at night sky and the stars grew bright making him feel like it was communicating to him. Perhaps, they knew how hopeless he was and they knew that this was the only way to mend his heart even if the bigger pieces were still missing.

The street held so much magic that it faded but Akaashi held onto it because maybe- maybe it could bring you back.

But magic isn’t real and what was left were flashes of our poor reality.

“Keiji, what did you wish for?” You asked him, your head leaned on his shoulder with your intertwined hands on his lap while his thumb traces shapes around it. He smiles fondly while he marvels at the stars.

“I wish it never ends.” He answers softly, looking at you like you were the only being in the endless galaxy that could ever make him believe in foolish wishes while our eyes were too fixated on the celestial creations above.

“What do you think will?”

“Us.”

Here he was, seated in the same place where his wish had turned into dust.

This was his safe place, finding comfort in it even if it had his heart turning into shards and as he keeps his silence, the wise lady who's known the boy ever since he was in Fukurodani, approaches him with a sad smile. A basket of flowers in her hands as she leaves the space beside him unaccompanied knowing it was where you used to belong.

“Still not here?” She asks while Akaashi meets her gray eyes with his lips drawn downwards, avoiding her gaze to look at the stars who betrayed him.

“I don’t think it’ll happen.” He says with his own orbs reflecting the same pain that it does every day. The lady holds out an eglantine rose in front of him while he stares down on it, fascinated at the colors of it. He takes it from her, twirling it in his hands as he smiles, the beauty of it growing on me.

“Thank you.” She bows at him but before she could walk away, she saw how much the boy was holding back the tears with his head down and the flower nearly touching the floor with how low he held it. She feels for him too much. She couldn’t even wonder just how heavy he must feel. He visits more than the times that she could count. Before, he would visit every day- even eating his lunch or just doing something to keep him away from leaving. He was too attached to ever leave but when he left for college, the daily visits subsided and she thought that maybe he’d given up.

It's sad that he didn’t.

She places an iris next to him and her heart stung when she hears him mention a name that is the only thing that brings equal parts of love and pain.

“I’m here, Y/N.”

“Everything okay?” Your friend asks while you turned to her dazed.

“Yeah.” You lied before returning your attention to the buildings and city lights as you wait for your stop. It was too late- nearly passing 1am when you had finished a project that was due for tomorrow. After several coffee fueled nights of editing and rewriting- it was finally over. You were on your way home, craving the mattress to hug you already- even a well-deserved shower. Thankfully, you already had your dinner and you just spent your hours at a library with her trying to settle the outcome of it. Luckily, you were able to catch a bus this late and relax a little by letting the scenery unwind you from your worries.

But with the city being this beautiful, it leads you to remember the divine wreckage that was once your relationship.

At first, you weren’t sure where you wanted to go when college came in.

Now the only place you’d rather be was the space beside him.

It comes as a threat sometimes, to be able to withstand the distance without him. You thought that he’d be a phone call away the first time you broke down during one of your stressful weeks but instead of a dial, it involves mastering the courage to do so and maybe a bus to actually meet with him. You’d let him wipe away your tears, possibly his hands stroking your hair and whispering you pretty words to calm you down, maybe even his lips on yours and that’ll take all the pain away and replace it with the tenderness of his love.

“I’ll be here.”

I wish you would be, Keiji.

Stepping out of the bus, you waved to your friend goodbye while you walked the way to your apartment. You stopped mid-way when you saw a man who was packing his cart of flowers. You noticed him every morning because he’d give away some of his flowers to kids for free, even bringing along his 5-year-old daughter so you would occasionally buy from him. He sees you so he gives you a kind smile while he gestures for you to stop for a second making you go towards him.

He hands you a gorgeous bellflower while you reach for your wallet to pay but he waves you off. You wondered if he gave you a flower seeing that you once came home with tears in your eyes with how exhausted you were or was it because of the season of love or was it a pure act of kindness.

“It’s all good.” You smiled at him while you admire the delicate thing in your hand. He finishes packing up and before you could even ask what it symbolizes. Either way, you were thankful that something so beautiful in your hands.

A temporary replacement for Akaashi’s fingers who found it’s home when it’s intertwined with yours.

Sighing, you went up to your room to rest. After a few minutes of being in complete serenity, your phone rings beside you while you saw Bokuto’s number flash before you. Missing his company, you decided to answer wanting to hear his loud and bubbly voice.

“Bo?”

“Hey hey hey Y/N! God I missed you so much! I really didn’t intend to call this late because I was scrolling and I accidentally pressed on your number but how are you?” This was one of the moments where your smile was genuine. You remembered the times where Bokuto had you laugh for hours during classes. You missed the way he hugged you when graduation came and you had to say good-bye to him first, having Bokuto as a friend felt like there will never be a day where you could be stuck with a rainy cloud above your head. He remained to be the sunshine- or in this case- the star that held it all together. You and Akaashi were superbly proud of him. Seeing him live out his dream with his bright smile is a sight that never gets old.

“I missed you too! I’m doing okay, what about you?” You asked him while your eyes land on a photo of you and Akaashi that was above your desk but you decided to shrug it off because this wasn’t the right time to feel these negative emotions.

“I’m doing good too! I haven’t seen you in such a long time damn. Akaashi is doing well too- he got in as an editor at this agency and- shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pile that on you. “ Bokuto says pouting, disappointed that he’d slip up this fast. He didn’t mean to mention in this early- he knew you two haven’t had your heart mended even if time has passed. He was just so used to talking to you so casually that he had forgotten that his two friends weren’t the same lovers as they were in high school.

“That’s amazing to hear, Kou. Tell him I said congratulations.” You said, proud for him. You knew that Akaashi’s future was far different from yours. He was heading on a road that held no traffic, just a simple path with no one to stop him. While yours had bumps and traffic but what made it bearable was because he was right beside you throughout the journey.

But now you had to face it all alone.

“Do you see me in your future?” You asked, turning to meet his eyes while his hands were fixed on your waist. He smiles before he lets his finger doodle on the minimally exposed skin of yours.

“Absolutely. What makes you think I’d say no?” He says looking at you worried that maybe there was another bubble of anxiousness that formed above you, while you grew silent because you were stuck in a dream with how his skin felt blissful on yours.

“Is something wrong, babe?” He asks, caressing your waist while he leans closer to you. It was normal for you to be this intimate but the burn of your heart still feel so new- like every time it happens it feels as if it’s the first time all over again.

“I guess I just got scared at the thought where you wouldn’t be in it.” He feels his heart sped up with your words. Your fate was glued to his and if his future didn’t include you in it, he’ll forever be stuck on the present when you were still there.

“No matter the timeline, the universe, I’d be there.”

But the glue dried didn’t it?

“We were planning to celebrate his new job, are you available?” Bokuto asks, while he wonders if this was a good plan to do so.

“I’ll try.” You responded, a panic sets in wondering how it’ll go down if you actually attend this mini get together. You’d face him- it’s not like you didn’t want that to happen- but the pain was still raw. Seeing him after years of denying that you were over it, you’d be lying to yourself once again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Got some time to catch up?”

Grinning at the amusement in his voice, you agreed.

It’s ridiculous how the city was filled with romance while two past lovers were consumed by loneliness.

Everyone was love-struck, buying chocolates and roses here and there, like puppets being controlled by Eros. Akaashi had to ignore the constant stories of his co-workers about their significant others giving them gifts and proudly presents their love for each other. He liked seeing them happy of course, everyone’s got their fair share of being in love.

But he experienced it when it became a blur.

You also had to endure the claims of girls on how many roses they got, bragging about it to no end. You also heard guys loudly gossiping about how they got the girl to agree with them on a date and this merely pisses you off because the unnecessary bitterness resurfaces.

Even if this wasn’t your day to be the happiest, you fell at peace with his jacket on you.

You stole about two jackets from him, even wearing his jersey when you visit his house. It felt like a sad embrace- like ghost of him wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head like he used to do. You forgot about it being in your closet but when you found it this morning, it had you speechless for a few minutes before wearing it and imagining his warmth. You actually stayed in your bed for a good 15 minutes just hugging the fabric close to your body, shedding tears here and there when you remembered just how much you craved his overall presence.

With a love this sour, it rained.

Maybe it was because of you two but all of you were obviously not ready for such a down pour- especially on a Saturday when the sun was too bright that when it started to turn to gray, no one was prepared for it.

You were lucky enough that his jacket kept you slightly dry for the first half but the sky got more furious and drowned everyone with it’s droplets. You used your bag instead to find a bus stop bench to avoid the rain, you didn’t have a clear vision at where you were going because of how everyone was rushing to find their own place of refuge and because of the hood of the jacket.

Panting from running, you sat down on the bench as chills ran up your spine with the cold breeze meeting with your drenched clothes.

“Sweetie here- I got a spare umbrella.” A lady says as you turned to her surprised that she’d let you borrow her belonging. When you remove your hood, she’s left to smile at your features.

“Wouldn’t you need that ma’am? I’m sorry but I’ll have to decline.” You said kindly but she shakes her head, opening her bag and grabbing the umbrella as she takes your hand in hers and placing it in your palm.

“Take it, it’s fine. You might catch a cold and I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.” She says, her eyes showing you genuineness.

“But-“

“You can always return it to me when your done, dear. I’m sure you’re familiar with this place.” You raised an eyebrow at her but once you felt the booming beat of your heart, you knew where you are, because there’s no other place that could make you this week.

You dropped the umbrella with so much shock that it led you here. The painted houses, the nightly strolls, the kisses underneath the streetlights- the only place where your mind and heart agreed on.

Shaking your head and picking up the fallen object, the lady was nowhere to be seen and it made your heart pick up it’s pace even more now that she’s disappeared.

Your hand touches something while you jumped slightly at the feel of it. You turn to your side to see an iris, sitting perfectly soaked in water. You eyed it carefully and even when it was covered in water, it’s color and beauty still stood out but tears brimmed in your eyes when you were overwhelmed with so much memories.

“Keiji, I have to go.” You said chuckling while he twirls you around on the empty street, dancing to the beat of your own contented hearts. You weren’t even drunk but maybe you two were just high of the devotion for each other. It was a random move that Akaashi had made when your intertwined hands swing around then the next second he was you twirling and having no care in the world whoever watched.

It was a surprise to see the boy this open- so free to move the way he wanted without surrendering into his doubts. He couldn’t care if he looked like a fool- what was he to do? He was in love.

“You didn’t like our little dance session?” He teases before pulling you into his arms, underneath the light while you chuckled before planting a kiss on his nose.

“I loved it. I didn’t know you could dance like that, my prince.” You said, following through his lines, with a smile on your lips.

“Is it your curfew?” He asks with a laugh knowing you hated when your parents made him bring you home before 10 because of how worried they were.

“You know it is.”

He cups your cheek before he pulls you into a kiss while you closed your eyes, submerging into a pool of butterflies as he deepens it, intensifying the heat of your cheeks. He had his hands to either side of your hip while yours were lost in his dark locks. He pulls away before letting his thumb graze over your cheek.

“I guess I’ll have to spend more time with you in my sleep then?”

You laughed at his words before pulling him close with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I wouldn’t mind it, prince charming.”

Feeling that your heart was nearly going to collapse, you stood up wiping your eyes as you hurriedly open the umbrella as you walked away as fast as you could, not ready to face another breakdown that’ll take a hard time to recover from.

Not too long from your disappearance, Akaashi sees the empty bench as the rain still poured down on his umbrella. It was another day where his wishes were stomped on, though he knows he should’ve never believed that it’ll be granted in the first place, a trial is still a trial no matter how many failed attempts there were.

He remembers that there was an iris when he last left but he had assumed that the lady took it back to her garden. He knew what it meant; it symbolizes hope. Though he needed it, he longed for something more.

And that was you.

But it was always him and the street, without any trace of you.

Then there’s this feeling in his chest, a tug of a rope that feels so near- a change in atmosphere ever since he got there.

Could it be?

But what sign of such desperation is this? To blindly hope that you were just here?

It’s funny that you actually were.

Keiji sighs as he walks away but there was still that odd feeling that he couldn’t get pass by. He tried to push away the memories like always does but with love around, why couldn’t he just treasure the moments you had?

While he walks to the bus stop, he notices a figure who just got in time to get inside and when he was supposed to follow them, the driver speaks to him.

“I’m sorry kid, we’re already full.” He says but Akaashi nods and steps away from the bus as his eyes follow the move of the figure until they sat down and the bus speeds off.

You removed your hood, thankful that you caught a ride home. Though, you felt bad for the person who didn’t get to ride along because the rain started to come down harder. You kept your hands together on your lap the way home, freezing and still shook by the nostalgic the street brought you to. It was good to be back there because you did visit it multiple times before you settled in your apartment. You used to sit on the bench for hours just letting the emotions wash over you. It was like you could see your past selves that were so happy- like ghosts dancing in the moonlight. Even if it was a breeze of his presence, you’d fall in love with it still.

Why did you both have to mature so fast?

When love belongs to two people who always chose to be the best for each other, it takes them both down.

Why?

Because they were always enough and they never realize it.

You and Keiji were a good example for that.

“Wouldn’t that be better for us?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers at the panic that takes over him but he desperately tried to mask it with his calm composure.

You had to agree.

This was his future at your hands and you wouldn’t want to be the person who could bring him to his down fall.

“I think so- but please not now?” You pleaded, burying your face into his neck, holding on to him while tears threatened to drop on his skin. He closes his eyes and embraces you more, cherishing the last moments he had.

You were too busy worrying about destroying his dreams but what was set in both of your futures was a heartbreak that time could never mend.

You wiped the tear away from your eyes as you felt a yank to your heart the more it floods your mind.

The time you got home, bed ridden for no reason, you couldn’t stay put. Did you want to go back there just to prove that you felt something? Maybe. But was it too late to actually go back? Yes it was. Considering that you slept for three hours and woke up at 1am isn’t exactly the right time to go back when criminals were lurking around. So you had your mind keep you awake but that wasn’t a good decision either because here you were without a fraction of a smile as you held your photograph with Akaashi.

It was a simple photo, just you and him smiling when he wore his jersey after you attended a match they won on. Bokuto took the photo making an excuse was that Akaashi needed to remember this match but he was simply doing the boy a favor just to get a photo with you.

But what you didn’t know was that there was a prize way better than winning the game.

“Thanks Bokuto.” You said before he hands you your phone back while Keiji peaks over your shoulder to look at the photo.

“We look good together.” He comments making you blush while you stared at the screen.

“It’d be better if we actually got together.”

Your phone felt weak in your hands as you turned to Akaashi who didn’t even had a reaction compared to yours, and the only thing plastered on his gorgeous features was a sly smirk.

“You mean-?”

“Precisely.” He says chuckling while you covered your face in your hands with how flustered you were while your heart was practically set on fire as Bokuto shakes his head with a smile with how impressively smooth Akaashi was being.

“I happily accept then.” You said softly with your heart went crazy as Akaashi closes his eyes for a second before smiling and taking your hand in his intertwining it for the first time, even planting a kiss on it making you even more stunned as you already were.

“Finally. I waited too long to call you mine.”

You just felt so euphoric knowing that’s where it all began. Sure, he had been assisting you on your way home but to become lovers and do that was another experience. Prancing around like fools, laughing until someone tells you both to stay quiet, to converse about Greek gods and references that Akaashi took the time to learn about- everything.

I wish I never had to see you walk away.

Both of you thought about the same thing at the same time.

While Bokuto stiffens when he remembers what you told him as he dials Akaashi’s phone number.

“Bokuto?”

“It’s possible, Akaashi.”

With that sentence, he drops his phone as his heart begins to beat the loudest it’s ever been.

“Can you meet with me?”

“Y/N called you?” Akaashi says, frowning at the fact that you had called Bokuto instead of him. He understood why you didn’t though but it still strikes a nerve to him when he remembers how much the captain used to make you laugh.

“I accidentally called and I asked if we could talk some more and it just happened. Y/N told me that every Saturday- they try to visit but the apartment is just far from where you two go. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as fast as I could, Kei. “ Bokuto says sighing while there was a slight pinch of relief when the setter knew that it was an accident.

“I just can’t believe Y/N still visits.” Akaashi says but Bokuto looks at him with eyebrows furrowed as he leans on the bench. The MSBY player couldn’t comprehend what was so special about the place they were in. Sure, he knew that this was your route home but what about the empty street that makes it so miserable and magical at the same time? After high school and during their video calls, he sees the boy in his usual setting- the same location all over again. The curiosity didn’t hit him but when he knew that you also visited often, that’s when it got him hooked. He’s actually gone there when he accompanied the two of you whenever you’d watch movies together but he didn’t feel just how precious it was. He figured that it was because it’s the only alone time you could get but there’s always something more to it.

So, he finally asks.

“What is it about this place that makes you two keep coming back?”

There was a faint smile on Akaashi’s lips but it disappeared when the weight of the question dawned on him.

“Because when Y/N walked away here, I did too.”

Akaashi bites his lip as Bokuto lends a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, letting him know he shouldn’t be in a hurry.

“I’m so sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. I had to tell you either way.”

“I just can’t believe it’s all ending so fast.” You said as you were embraced in his chest on your bed while he hums in response with his hand tangled in your hair.

“Have you decided on what to do for college?” He asks softly and your hesitation of an answer was enough for him as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“That’s fine, love. We talked about this, we don’t have to rush it.” You let your fingers fumble with the fabric of his shirt while the negativity consumes you.

“Won’t that affect us?” You asked him quietly while he looks at you confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always known what you wanted to do and I just- don’t.” Akaashi sits up a bit making you do the same while cups your cheek and you avoided his eyes.

“We don’t have to think about what happens then.” He says before taking you in his arms again, your head deep in his neck while you let the scent of him momentarily ease your worries.

His own demons couldn’t calm him down.

He understands why you were so scared because he felt the same. What if he couldn’t bring a smile to your face again? What if the laughter dies and all he could give you were tears? What’s he to do then?

Replacing you isn’t an option for him but he feels as if his own value is worth replacement for everything.

His heart takes another swing of pain while he holds you because rock bottom was so close to him.

“I wouldn’t want to hold you down, Keiji.” You whispered while he’s deep in thought of what mattered more- staying in your future or destroying it?

“I feel the same, my love.” He says caressing your hair as you both closed your eyes.

It wasn’t the fall of love between you two- it was because of how massive it was.

No other feeling could describe how much you loved each other that you would do everything just to keep their hearts together and smiling as days pass by- even if it meant saying goodbye.

“Your dreams, your passion, your strive- Keiji I never want to make you wait just because I can’t figure things out.” You said while tiny cracks formed inside his heart.

“And you know I don’t want to make you feel like you always have to keep up.” You held onto his shirt as tears prickled in your eyes, overwhelmed at how you’d let him go just for the sake of his dream.

You were always proud of Akaashi. He grew into his own star and made all the wishes of love come true when he showed you how much he was willing to stay by your side no matter what.

But even the brightest star becomes dull, especially when it came to you.

You were the one to say that you wanted more time to hold onto him. It’s been a week since your last discussion- which was traumatic for you. You heard him ramble on about his dreams and how endless the possibilities for him and you felt so small. All the dreams in your list were left unchecked while his were adding more and more. He’d suggested things for you but it never settles in your heart when you doubted your own capabilities.

You are my only dream, Akaashi.

“Wouldn’t that be better for us?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers at the panic that takes over him but he desperately tried to mask it with his calm composure.

You had to agree.

This was his future at your hands and you wouldn’t want to be the person who could bring him to his down fall.

“Love I-” Akaashi stutters as he tries to come up with a better way to avoid the end but he was in no man's land now.

“It’s happening is it?” You couldn’t stare at him straight but you could feel it in your bones that his grip was loosening with every second. He pulls away as both your eyes were fixed on your laps as Akaashi’s skin tingles when it craved your own.

“Y/N-”

“Just... don’t say goodbye. I can feel it either way.”

“Then let me say I love you instead.”

Because I’ll never know when I could ever say it again.

It was better to say farewell instead of letting the silence drift you two away.

Akaashi looks at Bokuto with a pained expression as he lets the tears slip from his blue eyes as he covers his face, sobbing into his hands.

Bokuto lets his hand rest on the younger boys shoulder while his heart aches at the sobs that echoed through the night. He should’ve been there, to at least give an embrace to the broken boy because all that ever hugged Akaashi was regret. He should’ve called just to check on him but his job as a volleyball player had his hands busy that the remidner was thrown out of his head.

“It ended here didn’t it?” He asks quietly while Akaashi nods making him bite his lip at how unfortunate it was. He didn’t expect to see this side of Akaashi- and he especially didn’t expect how you two would fall apart just like that. You were too good for each other that what was supposed to make you continue separately, it just keeps leading you both to the same route. Why do you even come back when this was the place you got your hearts broken? Years have passed, moving on was always a possibility but you couldn’t do it. No matter how far you were, your heartstrings were attached to his and there isn’t any way to cut it free when you simply don’t want to let go.

“I don’t think I’ll ever love someone else.” Keiji whispers truthfully, your name imprinted on his heart without a way to remove it.

“You don’t love Y/N.”

Akaashi looks at Bokuto offended as he wipes his eyes, questioning how could he possibly say that- it sounded so painful when he said it like that. It wasn’t true but he can’t even imagine the thought of not loving you anymore.

“Because if you did, why aren’t they here?”

He stares dumbfounded to the boy beside him while Bokuto’s voice was filled with seriousness. The younger boy was surprised to hear such a phrase come from him but what he said was the reality he couldn’t face.

How can he say that he loves you when he hasn’t tried to make ends meet?

But is it too late?

Akaashi is too foolishly patient that he kept returning to same spot when he could’ve gained the confidence to call you and asked how you’ve been doing but instead he wallowed in his own sorrows.

So maybe, he should say goodbye to this street knowing there’s a bigger picture he’s yet to explore.

“Thank you, Koutaro.” He says while the older boy flashes him a smile, his eyes twinkling, pleased to see Akaashi returning to his past self with the realization setting in his mind and heart.

For the first time in years, Akaashi’s heart feels relieved.

Because he was bound to bring you back, no matter the cost.

He’s never felt more excited to leave work.

This was the day where he’s gathered his emotions to properly bid the memories goodbye because he was set on making much better ones when he finally gets you back.

That was his new dream.

When he went home yesterday, he couldn’t sleep with the ideas keeping him awake. This was the adrenaline rush he was looking for when he called you before you went away. He was incredibly set on getting you back even if he’d bombard whatever agency or college room you were in. Letting you go once was enough, if it happened twice then it meant he truly didn’t love you. He was grateful that Bokuto had opened his eyes to a better perspective. He was stuck on one location when you could be anywhere in the world so it was fitting to end the torment by bidding a proper farewell to the tears that he shed.

Arriving later than usual, he has a rose in hand as he takes a last good look at the place where love blossomed like a the rarest flower. He feels how ponderous it was release his grip on something so special.

He sits on the bench for the last time as the flower pivots in his hands as the stars watched the lonesome boy smile. He takes in a deep breath before standing up and before he could let go of the rose, his smile falls first.

You felt your heart go unsteady as you clutched onto the umbrella when your eyes met his perfectly blue ones.

“Y/N?”

He then places the rose on the bench as he got off and ran to you, taking you in his arms with such great force that it almost made you lose balance as the tears instantly came on when he held you tight. Hands around your waist while your arms stayed at your side at how shocked you were. Akaashi buries his face on your shoulder as he closes his eyes and just as he almost says goodbye, he found a reason to stay.

Finally reoccurring to you that it was actually real, you wrapped your arms around him tighter than he ever could. Akaashi thought that it was another day where his illusions would trick him into a life that his mind created for him to be happy but this was way better than any fictional world he formed.

“My future can never be complete if you’re not with me.”

He whispers making your heart awestruck once again as he pulls away from your embrace to place both his hands on your cheek, wiping away your own tears as he looks at you straight into yours, with his own puddle on the corner of his eyes.

“I’m here now.” He says and it takes in every part of your body to not just scream and tell him how much a single sentence mattered to you. You’ve waited too long to hear him say that and to finally witness it had your dim heart allow the light to pass through and the warmth of it makes you weak.

“I love you so much.” Akaashi said like he was out of breath. He feels the pressure that maybe his time was running out and he had to say everything before fate takes you away again.

Noticing the panic in his voice, you placed your hand on his cheek like the fragile lover you were and when you did this, the poor boy was going to faint at how you gently caressed his skin. Raising his glasses, you looked at his terrified eyes as you let your hands ease his racing mind.

“I’m not going anywhere, Keiji.” You assured him while he smiles weakly at your words. You saw the way a tear cascaded down his cheek and you went your way to kiss his temple while your lips felt a shock of electricity when you did it.

“I love you more.” He’s never realized how words could heal his wounds in a second. He places a kiss to your forehead as his hands slowly trails down to your free hand, intertwining them with his as the surroundings lit up, the magic coming back as you smiled at each other.

“Let’s try this again shall we?”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi angst #akaashi keiji #akaashi x y/n #hq akaashi #bokuto x reader #xine's world of romance

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 3 years ago

Text

First Dance Since 1943

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Inspired by (song): I still don’t remember it, actually 😬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Fem!StarkScientist Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dancing at Work. Insecurities. Jokes. Memories.

Author's Note: Hello!!! I hope you're ok today ❤️.

First of all, thanks you for all the replies on my last Fics! Really that is very appreciated 😍

This fic was the first that I ve write with Bucky when the series came out, so... This was the first steps of my new (lost) love about Bucky (And Sebastian too)

I hope you like this one!!!

XOXO ❤️

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

- Leslie - He raised his head as soon as he heard Joaquín's voice and gave him a smile when he saw him poke his head through the door of my office, even though it is transparent - I bring Sam with me so you can take a look at Redwing.

- It will be my pleasure - I mutter as I type a quick reply to Agent Johnson about the malfunction of Agent Sousa's new pistol. Men who come from bygone ages have serious problems with modern technology - How can I help you?

He looked up from the laptop and my eyes meet that sad look that my dreams seemed to reflect conscientiously. The owner of those blue eyes and painful memories sees me with a hint of a smile while his partner holds Redwing as if I were going to touch him just to detonate him.

- I want it to be clear that I let you intervene with him only because Torres made it clear to me that you worked for Stark.

I give a laugh that reflects my nervousness as I turn to Bucky.

- Sergeant Barnes.

- Hey. How have you been, Leslie? - The way my name sounds in his voice, which is seductive without even looking for it makes him feel that my legs melt like jelly at those words.

- Busy with so much work - I reach out to Sam making a mental note of how good that blue shirt looks on Bucky and coming to the conclusion that men who come from 1940 like the color blue - What is it? What it's the problem?

- The laser was decalibrated. I wanted to repair it but it was impossible.

- If you let me examine it, at most I will have it ready in a couple of hours - The soldier nods somewhat suspiciously but takes a step back as soon as I take that small device. - The dream of any woman, to fix one of the many work items of the Avengers.

Sam laughs as he begins to explain that he is no longer part of the Avengers as many believe. To all this, Bucky, as I allow myself to call him in my thoughts, is in silence, leaning against one of the many glass walls of the room, looking out of the building and I do not doubt for a second when I believe that he was not paying attention in the least to our conversation.

Joaquín's voice interrupts my thoughts and from the smile he brings, I know that every time he meets these two men, he considers himself one of the luckiest beings in the universe.

- Excuse me, Sam - The two men turn around as I turn the little drone and see the typical signs that this prototype of Stark technology is very poorly maintained. I make a mental note not to say that to Sam and concentrate on fixing the laser as I hear them being called from "Higher Spheres" as I call high-ranking Air Force people - They need you, there's a new report on the mission in Libya.

- Take good care of him, Leslie - I nodded smiling without looking up and muttered a "Better than you, sure" that was only audible to me.

If there was one thing he hated about Stark technologies, it was that, in addition to having the F.R.I.D.A.Y tech matrix, and without it, he couldn't do much more than touch some cables and hope the little drone would work. And i prayed that would work, otherwise i would have to ask Pepper for permission to use her facilities, but Sam would flatly refuse to take Redwing to Stark Industries.

- He screwed it up, didn't he?

I jerked my head up when I heard Bucky's voice and when I looked at him, he was still in the same position as before, looking outside the building.

- I thought you had left with Sam ...

- Excuse me, I did not want to scare you - He approached the table where i was working and indicated the drone with his metal arm, which he no longer hid under layers of clothing, much less, leather gloves - He treats that drone very badly .

- Sorry?

- Do you think that murmur was imperceptible only for you? I assure you that Sam heard it too- I cursed as he dropped the tools i had in my hands and covered my face with both, wishing that the earth would open and swallow me, as a minimum option.

- Why didn't you go with Sam? and please do not get me wrong, I like the company and I like that you are here, but it is simple curiosity - I cursed myself internally as I listened over and over again to the words that I had said aloud and I wanted the earth to pity me again and swallow me. Definitely Joaquín's idea of just nodding and not talking was an excellent idea to implement.

Had I told him out loud that I liked him being there? Oh my God…

- This is Sam's land, I don't fit in here.

- And yet, here you are - I take Redwing and walk to the testing room of the laboratory that is adjacent to my office, where the music begins to play as soon as I enter the small room and as much as I want to deactivate it, I can not do it. I resign myself as soon as I hear Bucky's footsteps behind me and as soon as he enters the room, it seems too small with him there. I put the drone on the long metal table that occupies a large part of it and I type the password in the auxiliary panel of one of the screens around me and the little drone turns on, taking flight a few meters above our heads - At least It leaves me happy that I still fly with all those blows.

- I'm surprised that it's still whole - Bucky's murmur makes me laugh as I calibrate the laser to shoot the target in front of him. I try to shoot but nothing happens. I curse silently as I see from the corner of my eye that the man cautiously observes the room, as he stops when the first melodies of “She's got a Way” by Billy Joel begin to play- Do you like the music of the 20th century?

- I'll tell you the truth: I don't like current music, I prefer the lyrics of 1980s artists where they say heartfelt things rather than the lyrics that speak about certain topics in a very direct way. 1980 was a very good time, maybe you would like it.

- I have a list of songs on Spotify that I listened to in the 40's. I thought I couldn't find them again - The hint of melancholy that invades his voice makes for a moment that I wanted to meet that 23-year-old young man who should be very different from the one in front of me, with a totally different way of being and without all the suffering that would happen later - What if, that was when I learned to use a computer.

- You know, you would get along with Agent Sousa from SWORD - He turned at the mention of the new agency with a frown, clearly annoyed at the idea of interacting with another agency. - He's just like you, technically speaking.

- He went through psychological torture and became a Hydra assassin? -The sincerity and ease with which those words came out of his mouth made my eyes fill with tears. The pain in his voice made my words sound clearly wrong in that conversation.

- No ... He also comes from an ancient time, like you and Steve. Only Daniel was taken out of 1955 because of Agent Coulson and his feeling of not being able to let him die in front of his eyes - Bucky nodded as he stood next to me again and watched my movements on the screen trying to get Redwing to respond, something that did not happen - Perhaps it would do them good to chat between the two ... You are not from the same era, but I imagine that their feelings towards this century are similar, and both are adapting. You can get to understand each other more than they think.

- I will keep it in mind…. Thank you, Doll - I felt the heat begin to rise up my neck at that nickname and I assumed that my cheeks must be a scarlet red color, because, despite the fact that it was cold in that room, I felt that I was on fire - I all this is strange, even though I know this technology, it is difficult for me not to relate it to all this - Unconsciously, he touches his metal arm and I let out a sigh. I'd like to know how to help him get through that, but I don't know how to do it without bringing up bad memories.

- Is there something you like?

- What are you talking about? - I put aside the PADD I had in my hands and touched the "Stand By" button for Redwing to return to his original position in the center of the table.

- Sometimes, learning becomes easier when there is something you like - I lean on the table while he remains silent and I watch him waiting for his answer, but all I get is a smile about something he is thinking - What makes you smile?

- Dance. I haven't danced in a long time. Since 1943, to be exact - He leans on the other end of the table, facing me exactly and gives me a look with a flash of mischief - And I'm not going to those places that they call discos to dance with someone.

I laughed at his tone of indignation, when I could contain my laughter, I saw him watching me with what seemed like affection, but I tried not to give it too much importance, but when I felt that my heart was going to leave my chest so hard it hit my rib cage.

- Why that tone against the discos?

- The music is too loud and there are colored lights that I don't even know what they are called, plus you can't talk to anyone - I laughed again at his complaints that were very sincere and were very similar to mine - Don't make fun of me.

- I do not, I am funny the tone you use. You seem really annoyed with it - Bucky rolls his eyes and taps on the table - What do you miss most about 1940?

- Everything, my family, my friends, my life ... The way I could go to an amusement park and not have to worry about whoever saw me wanted to run out of fear, when I could take a girl on a date without I would worry about my past, dancing with someone, that closeness that made me so comfortable and so relaxing at the same time.

- Well, at least the dance thing can be fixed - I take my iPhone out of my pocket and search the playlist for Eric Clapton's song, Wonderful Tonight and once the notes start to play, I walk over to Bucky, holding out my hand towards him, in an attack of courage, the kind that I don't usually have, but all that was to get a smile from the owner of those beautiful sad eyes - Would you dance this song with me?

Although I notice that my actions catch him off guard, he smiles at me and takes my hand, nodding his head.

When the two of us are standing in front of each other, I realize that I don't know where to put my hands, much less stop to think if that could be uncomfortable for him. I wanted to back away, looking for a good enough excuse before falling into the misfortune of having to apologize to him, but Bucky, who will have simply seen my worried expression, took my free hand and brought it to his forearm, and laid it there gently, While with his right hand he held mine, and with his metal arm, he encircled my waist, drawing me close to him. We began to move slowly to the beat of the music, but he was definitely the one leading the way.

- How does it feel to dance decently again? - I was silent at the inappropriate comment and let out a sigh while I concentrated on trying not to step on it.

- It feels strange to do it after a long time - Bucky ignores my comment or downplays it, but when I look at him, I realize that he is concentrating on remembering the steps and trying to guide the inexperienced woman in front of him.

- To do it a long time ago, you do it very well - He shakes his head, trying not to smile, and before I even knew it, he released one of my hands and made me turn, taking my hand perfectly synchronized at the end of it.

- If Steve were here, I'd say it's innate ability.

- Well, if he makes you feel more comfortable, this is my first time dancing with someone, that is, I dance with a man. And I must admit that I never believed it would be in my workplace.

- Why's that? - I let out a sigh as I watch him at the same time that he looks towards the laboratory door. When he looks back at me, in his blue eyes I can see a flicker of doubt and curiosity.

Anyone could feel safe with my poor social and love life.

- It's weird to dance in your workplace. Everyone here is watching you from the other side of the glass and ...

- I meant because you never danced with anyone - Oh ... I drop my head until it almost touches his chest, but I feel that the pressure of his arm grows stronger around my waist, as if he knows that I am about to fall and I won't notice - I'm sorry if the question bothers you.

- No, no, he doesn't. What happens is that I'm not usually the type of girl who gets asked to dance. Besides, I don't like going to the disco or going out at night. In that respect I am similar to you - I admit while he gives me a smirk - I prefer to stay home and read. Or spend time with my cat.

- Intellectuals are the best - Bucky's voice sounds annoying and safe at the same time, as if something in his own words bothered him.

- But the less interesting for the men of this time apparently, more when they talk a lot about science and current affairs - Between the chords of the music, I get him to laugh. And I must admit, he has a beautiful smile, one of the prettiest I have ever seen, in fact. I start to laugh and in the midst of my laughter, he spins me around again at the same time the song ends.

- Not for me. Are you sure you didn't come out of the 40's like me? - We don't even part, and our hands are still joined as I shake my head.

I smile as I take a step away from him as I pick up my cell phone to stop the music and see him approach the window again.

- No, but I think I was born at the wrong time.

- Thanks for this - his murmur reaches me far away, but with a clear hint of satisfaction in his voice. I smile happy to have served my purpose.

- Thanks to you, at least I have experienced what it feels like to dance with someone.

- You will do it more often, trust me.

- I take the word.

Sam who had arrived at the scene a few minutes before with Torres, smiled as he watched the whole scene and remembered those days when he took advantage of Steve's innocence with women and smiled wistfully when he realized that Bucky was the clear image of his best friend. Seeing him for a moment concentrating on something other than work filled him with satisfaction, perhaps Joaquín's idea of bringing him here hadn't been so bad after all.

Then he would take advantage of letting him know of his observations when the two of them were alone.

I turn towards the door as soon as I hear a series of light knocks and I meet Sam's mischievous smile, who sees me as if he had discovered gold or something much more valuable.

- I'm so sorry to interrupt, but we have work, Buck.

- Sure - Bucky turns to where I am and before he could even move me away, he takes one of my hands and leaves a kiss on it. I can barely contain the sigh that tries to escape from my lips and I simply remain silent, feeling how the color begins to invade my cheeks, in the company of the heat - Thanks for the dance.

- My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.

Sam, who is behind us, rolls his eyes and leans against the door while Bucky approaches him with a heavy sigh - Don't even think about making jokes about this.

- Did I say something? - I let out a laugh at his comical and ironic tone as Bucky walks past him shaking his head. "See you later, Leslie." I need to make some arrangements on the suit.

- Yes Sir.

Sam glares at me as Torres chuckles at my horrified expression. I forgot he don't like me calling him sir.

- Sorry, Sam.

After a few minutes, I find myself alone again, so I return to the laboratory to work on Redwing and allow myself to release that sigh that I have been holding since Bucky appeared in that room.

That moment had been incredible ... Even if it was only that, a moment that will remain in my head.

I startle as soon as I hear a knock on the door, I take off the receiver and as soon as I turn around, I see that the one at the door is Bucky, who has his left hand hidden behind his back.

- You know, "Sergeant" is very formal - he leaves his left hand exposed and has a white flower on it. I doubt if I approach but I do it feeling that the colors begin to invade my face. No one had never given me flowers. That gesture was beautiful, I take it and I respond with a smile - Call me James.

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years ago

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Feels Like This (Part 13)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! I am so excited to be back with this story after the month I spent away, and I find it so wild that in that past month so much happened with royals in the actual world. I wouldn’t say it inspired this chapter at all, but it was cathartic to write a story where the Prince and Princess get a much healthier, more healing reception. I know how many of you love this fic, and it definitely has a special place in my heart as well. It’s been so important to me that I do the ending of this story justice, and so it took a bit of time to get my thoughts organized. This is one of the final chapters, and I only anticipate one more actual story installment and then maybe, someday far off in the future, an epilogue or two. That being said, this is a long-awaited milestone for CS and I have attempted to infuse all of my usual cuteness and romance. I hope that you all enjoy, I would love to hear what you think, and thank you all so much for reading!

Gazing out upon the overlook as the sun rose over the tree line in the Montenarran morning, Killian was comforted once more by the vastness of the world and the beauty that danced before him. The light shone with a color and vibrancy he’d come to know and love, but this morning the air hummed with languid layers of anticipation. Maybe it was Killian’s excitement and nerves, but he didn’t think so. No, if anything the world seemed to shimmer today, a sign from above that the timing was right and that he was ready to take this next big step.

The next time I visit this place, I’ll have Emma by my side, he thought to himself, soaking in the comfort of such a plan.

This was on his list of places to share with his Swan, but he reasoned that he had all the time in the world for such gifts. Today, though, he was planning to make that assumption a reality. For finally, after nearly three days of being parted from his love, he was planning to propose, in a way befitting a woman of Emma’s caliber.

Instinctively, Killian’s hand moved to his pocket, drawing out a small black box which held a ring inside. The ring was beautiful and ornate, an overt and ostentatious display of love, but one with inherent meaning. This was the ring his grandfather had given his Gran, a ring forged for the purpose of real and lasting love. It was not exchanged at their wedding, but instead in a private ceremony the two of them shared some weeks later. Their wedding had been arranged, but still they’d found real love. This ring was a gift, however, given at the turning point where Killian’s grandfather knew that his love for his new Queen was more than mere arrangement – it was true and totally transformative.

“Your brother, as reigning monarch, has full claim to your grandfather and my wedding bands, and he will make good use of them with his Elsa, I am utterly assured,” Gran had claimed some weeks back when she stole Killian for a private moment. On that night, she was serious and sincere, most of her deeply playful nature tucked aside for a brief window of time. She glanced at her the matrimonial ring she still wore, years after the death of her dearly departed husband before looking back to Killian with conviction and calm. “The love between them grows each day, and is befitting of what me and your grandfather shared. But this ring I’m giving you, Killy… this ring is something else altogether. This is magic made metal. This is perfectly genuine affection forged into precious gems.”

“It is gorgeous, Gran,” Killian agreed when she presented the ring to him. “But I can’t take something like this from you. Not when it means so much.”

“That’s why you must have it, Killy. If your Grandfather were here, he would say the same. This ring bound us in life, but now we are bound through so much more.”

For the first time in years, likely since the death of his grandfather himself, Killian watched as tears trickled down his Gran’s face. It instantly pierced his heart, for this was a woman who always showed strength. Even when he was on deployment and gone for years on end, his Gran persevered. She may grow misty eyed or get choked up, but tears were a whole different story. Only the memory of her husband could prompt them, and Killian thought to himself not for the first time that she had been so strong for so long, going on without him.

“Our love is forever, living, thriving, singing its song for now and for always. I miss him, every day, every moment, I wish that he was here, but someday we will have each other again. And in the meantime, this ring deserves another union. It was made to be passed through generations. I will confess that I wondered if anyone should ever be worthy of it, if love like ours would find its way here again. But I needn’t have doubted. You and Emma are made for each other, and it would be my honor for Emma to wear this.”

Killian agreed whole heartedly with his Grandmother’s explanation, and he knew no more beautiful stone could be found the world over. This ring bore a remarkable yellow diamond, encircled with smaller stones of the same rare hue. The exact shade sparkled in the sunlight, but almost seemed dipped in the golden glow of a summer’s afternoon. It was pristine and poetic, warm and well beyond the pale, reminding Killian of the highlights in Emma’s hair and the lilt of her laughter. Her joy was precious, more precious than any stone, but as he gazed upon the rock, it felt quintessentially designed for his Swan. It was happy and bright, bold and beautiful, and he knew, despite its flair and size, that Emma would love it.

The only thing left to do is ask her.

The thought breathed new life into Killian, even more so than the Montenarran morning, and he walked back through the forest paths towards the palace once more, energized and ready for the day ahead. He had everything planned and had been working on this for some time. There were many moving pieces, but he’d squared them all away. In the end he would see to it that this was perfect, for that was exactly what his Swan deserved.

Arriving at the palace just after the sunrise, Killian moved with purpose and precision. He had only a little bit of time, and much to accomplish.

“The last of the parcels have been delivered, Your Grace,” one attendant announced as Killian walked through the palace doors. “The bulk of them are here, as you see, though some are in the green house for obvious reasons.”

“Excellent, Jacque. Thank you.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir, it’s just… are you certain you don’t need help arranging things? It’s a significant amount of work here. The staff is happy to assist.”

“I appreciate that offer, Jacque, but I’ve got things well in hand. I’ve been planning this for some time.”

A thoughtful smile appeared at the older man’s face, one that broke the traditional polite protocol and spoke to how long he had known Killian and the royal family. “Of course, Sir. Well, in that case, best of luck.”

Killian took the well wishes to heart, knowing he had a massive task before him. Perhaps he could have given himself more time to bring all of these pieces together, but to him, it already felt like too much time had been wasted. He was more than ready for this next step with Emma, and after three days spent apart, not seeing each other in person, or sharing much more than a few texts and facetimes, he was particularly desirous to see this through. He had been strategizing on how to get this right for quite a while, and by now he knew each assignment down to the letter.

“I assume that your dismissal of Jacques offer goes for us as well?”

Killian glanced up, finding his mother on the stairwell. From here she was stately and elegant, a poised dowager Queen with refinement and grace, but as she descended, she became more herself, and by the time she was in front of Killian, taking his hand in hers, she was no more and no less than a wonderful mother. His greatest support for many years, and someone who he knew would give anything she could to make this moment special.

“It does, at least for this. But with the children arriving in a few hours’ time -,”

“Not to worry on that front,” his mother said cheerily, her own happiness at the thought of all the Institute’s residents coming to the palace for a special premiere outing. “Your Grandmother and I have all in hand, and Liam and Elsa are set to help us. It’ll be a day to remember.”

“Good,” Killian said, looking around and finding his Gran already in full form, instructing the staff as to the desires she had for the outdoor space. Through the glass of the palace’s wall of windows, her words were muddled, but the humor was clear as day. This woman, frail and aged from outward appearance, was a firecracker, ruling over the days designs with an iron fist. “Surprising that Liam is giving Gran such a wide berth.”

“Well how could he not? He’s yet to come down for the day. Hard to give orders from a distance.”

Killian let out a whistle, and laughed as his mother swatted his arm and ‘tutted’ his boyish actions. Knowing when enough was enough, he left unsaid the clear reason that his brother would choose to stay abed so late in the morning. Killian would stake his life on the fact that a certain guest was here within the palace, and that she likely made a visit of the overnight variety.

“What are the chances that Gran doesn’t know?” Killian asked and his mother shook her head.

“Zero.”

“And the likelihood that she will say something?”

“That’s still to be determined.” Killian was shocked at his mother’s genuine opinion. He, for one, thought it undoubtable that Gran would make mention of this moment, gleefully commenting on the need for royal heirs or some such outlandish claim. “Eleanor is direct and prone to speaking her mind, but she is also strategic. If the calculated risk of such a comment is too high, she will deny herself. She would never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s prospects.”

“You really think a smart comment from an old woman is enough to keep them apart?” Killian asked, thinking back on the few weeks that Liam and Elsa had shared since finding each other again. They had been as close to inseparable as the schedule of a King would allow. It was clear that they were both entirely invested, so much so that a royal announcement would be made in the coming days announcing their relationship.

“Not for a second.”

“So, if you know that, and I know that… surely Gran must know that.”

At that exact moment a maid was walking back into the house, opening the glass doors. From the outside they could hear his grandmother calling out to Liam and to Elsa, who had been discovered somewhere in the backyard. They no doubt were trying to be more discrete, but Gran seemed to have no interest in allowing them that privacy.

“Oh Lord, it’s time,” Meera said with a mix of worry and also amusement. Her eyes were alight with the humor of the moment, but also the very real awkwardness that may soon transpire. “I best get out there and spare them from what I can.”

Killian nodded, but wasn’t ready for the impact of his mother’s arms around him squeezing tight. It was not in any way part of the royal protocol, but his family never paid much mind to that. Still, this was a big hug, one that was obviously filled with tremendous meaning.

“I’m so proud of you, my darling. You’ll give her everything she deserves, and the two of you will be happy. So wonderfully, beautifully happy.”

“Thanks, Mum. Love you,” he whispered, accepting her soft kiss on his cheek and her shared words of love in kind before she dashed off to help his elder brother. A Queen should never move so quickly, but then again, Gran could do quite a bit of damage in the seconds it would take to get from here to there. For his part, Killian only chuckled to himself before heading to the side of the palace towards the gardens for the day.

The next few hours were defined by attention to detail and purposeful precision. Before meeting Emma, Killian could safely say he never imagined the lengths and planning required for a proper proposal. The idea was so intangible, so unnecessary in his estimations, that he never dwelled on even the possibility. It seemed unlikely that his heart would ever be touched in that way. He assumed he’d go through life a bachelor, or worse yet, that he’d cave to eventual pressure and say yes to something arranged and designed without feeling or passion. Luckily for him he had escaped such a fate, and instead had been steered through the grace of all things good towards a woman who was far and away the most remarkable he’d ever met.

Emma was rare and extraordinary. He had known it from their first meeting, and he continued to hold onto this truth every day they were together. There was never a moment when he didn’t realize his good fortune, or when he took her presence in his life for granted. Emma had revived him. She anchored him into the goodness of the world, and she showed him what could be. She expanded his horizons, even brought with her a son, another key part of a growing family, and by her side, Killian felt like he was capable of anything.

He only hoped that the elements he’d gathered today would translate as he imagined they could. This was a memory in the making that could only be shared once. Killian wanted to be sure that it was what Emma wanted and deserved. Luckily, he’d had help and more than a little bit of intel, mostly provided by Henry and from a few other insiders who knew Emma best of all.

“Are all systems a go, Captain?”

As if he’d conjured Henry with the grateful thought of all the boy had done for him, he turned now to find Emma’s son in the garden. Killian watched as the lad took in their surroundings, his eyes growing wide, and his whispered ‘this is so cool’ a welcome sign that Killian’s efforts had not been for nothing. He stood from where he’d been bent down, tidying up the last of his efforts, and when he gazed upon it himself, he had to say he was happy with the outcome.

“Aye, Lieutenant. All the necessary components are accounted for.”

“Good. She’s going to lose it. In a good way though,” Henry said with a smile which burned bright.

“Is everyone arrived then?” Killian asked and Henry shook his head.

“Soon, but not just yet. Anna and I have been here for a while now. Gran needed help with the game set up, but I asked if I could see you first.”

The look of wonder and happiness that had clung to Henry since arriving colored to something a bit more pensive. The shift gave Killian some pause for the first time all day. “Everything all right, lad?”

“Everything’s great, I just – well I was wondering – I mean if Mom says yes – or rather when she says yes, because she’ll totally say yes, it’s just that, well I – I was wondering…”

“No need to be worried, Henry,” Killian said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Whatever you have to ask me, I’m here to help. You have my word I will make it right.”

“I know. And you’ll love Mom forever, right?”

“Aye, lad. Forever and then some.”

“And you love me too,” Killian’s heart clenched as he automatically nodded.

“Yes, Henry. I love you both, undoubtedly.”

“And we’re going to be a family.”

Killian didn’t know what to say. Down to his bones he knew that they would be. He was confident in this union between him and Emma. They had made promises already, declarations of love. He would give anything to be her husband, and he knew that someday he would be, but to say it aloud to her son when Emma herself hadn’t had a chance to even be asked was something else entirely. In the end, he decided to just go with his gut.

“In my heart, we already are.” Henry beamed up at him, the worry of the moment melting away. Still, Killian never imagined what he’d say next.

“Well then I was hoping that maybe, when you and Mom are married, maybe I could call you Dad?”

Killian was overwhelmed with the request. It was something he had wished for, but didn’t want to press. He knew Henry had no memories of his biological father, but he never wanted to assume. It was a massive move for a young man to ask such a question, but Killian’s answer to the query was instant and heartfelt.

“I would be honored, lad.”

“Cool,” Henry said happily, brimming with the excitement he’d had since Killian first told him about his plan to propose to Emma.

Henry moved forward, hugging Killian with the affection of an earnest hearted ten-year-old, and Killian savored it, knowing he would always see Henry as his son. He may not be his blood, but he lay claim to a large piece of Killian’s heart. He silently swore to always do right by Henry. To protect him and to teach him what he could. But mostly he would support him, and show love to Henry and his mother all the days of his life. Before Killian could speak to more of that, the sound of busses pulling up, and happy children streaming onto palace grounds wafted through the air. The time had come. This was the moment.

“You know the plan, son?” Killian asked, the word slipping off his tongue so easily, and bringing real joy to Henry’s eyes.

“Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll have Mom to you in five minutes. You can time me.”

Killian might have laughed at the fervor and excitement Henry shared, but unfortunately, five minutes waiting in a moment like this felt like a lifetime away. The only thing that got him through were the last-minute adjustments, and the journey that was needed from where he was, to where they’d start their memorable afternoon. Finally, the moment came where Killian was waiting at the start of the hedgerow, even further from the festivities and he could hear the woman he loved, unaware of his being here.

“Henry, seriously, what’s going on? The party’s only just starting. We have time for a tour later. We can go with the others.”

“Trust me Mom, this can’t wait.”

“What is it Henwy?” a tiny voice Killian would know anywhere asked. Cecelia was with them, another sign from above that his plans were moving the way he wanted.

“Something magical,” Henry said and Killian could hear the sharp trill of an excited little girl.

“Like fairies?”

“Just wait, you’ll see.”

“Something magical, huh?” Emma parroted, but at that moment they all stepped into view.

Three days may be but a blip in time to some, but to Killian it had felt like an eternity. The peace he now experienced at seeing his Swan again was profound, and somehow she was even more stunning than when he’d left her. The day’s light shone in her hair and in her smile. She was gorgeous and relaxed, dressed in a delicate pink sun dress designed to tease and torment. Her radiance outshone every flower in this garden, and in the moments before she saw him, he soaked in the sight of her. God she was beautiful, too beautiful to properly behold. His heart skipped and his muscles tightened, and then her eyes landed on him and he was whole. The world was righted once more, and all because Emma saw him and felt the same pull he felt emanating from his chest. The surprise in her eyes was evident, followed immediately by relief, and joy, and love, and all of it was too sweet a call to resist. He moved towards her and the children, sending up one last prayer in this critical moment.

Please let her be mine. I swear I’ll deserve her. Whatever it takes. For I am hers, body and soul, and I always will be.

………………

God he’s gorgeous, Emma thought instinctively upon finding Killian at the far end of the garden hedge. That thought was followed closely by, Wait, what is he doing here?

“Killy!” Cecelia cried out happily, letting go of Emma and Henry’s hands and sprinting towards him. Emma watched as Killian crouched down, accepting the hug from the little girl who effortlessly stole their hearts. He closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in the moment, and then he pulled back and pushed some of her wayward curls from Cecelia’s eyes, smiling at her with genuine affection.

“Good morning, little love. How are you finding the palace?” Emma’s heart clenched in her chest in the best way. He was just so sweet with her. He always had been.

“It’s so so good,” Cecelia replied, bringing a laugh out of all of them.

At the little girl’s enthusiastic endorsement, Killian thanked Cecelia and then stood once more, looking at Emma with those captivating blue eyes and that charming smile that always took her breath away. She was still trying to fathom his presence here. They had spent the last few days apart, days she found so much more difficult to manage than she expected, but he wasn’t set to return for a few more days. Liam had sent him on state business. She didn’t press for details, assuming it was confidential, but now, she was curious as to this wonderful turn of events. Before she could ask though, he walked over to her, taking her into his arms and kissing her surely. She leaned into this embrace, loathed to let him go, but he seemed to remember they were in the presence of little eyes. It was a fleeting kiss, but still invigorating all the same.

“I don’t understand. You’re supposed to be away the rest of the week.”

“I hope you’ll forgive my brother for that white lie,” Killian said, his hand coming up to scratch at his ear in that subtle show of bashfulness she’d witnessed a time or two. “If you’ll recall I never actually confirmed an itinerary, having sworn never to lie to you again.”

“So, you weren’t on a… huh, let’s see, how did Liam put it? A ‘mission for the future of the nation’ then?”

“Not exactly. But then again, in some ways, that’s exactly where I was. Do you trust me, love?”

Emma nodded, and watched as his smile grew warmer. She knew that it meant to him to have her trust, but in her eyes, he had earned it ten times over. Killian was a good man – the best man she knew – and he made her feel safe. Of course she trusted him. She had never trusted anyone this much before.

“In that case, I’ve some things to show you. Henry, you’ll be sure to hold down the fort in the meantime?”

Emma looked over to her son, and only now realized that this was all planned somehow. Her boy looked pleased as punch, and even sent a salute Killian’s way. “Yes sir. And Cecelia will help, wont’ you Ceci?” The little girl nodded, joyously, thrilled at the prospect of helping. “We’ll see you both soon.”

Killian nodded, leading Emma in the direction of the garden. The further they moved into the hedgerow, the quieter it became, until the only songs around them were those of birds and breeze. Emma was amazed at all of this, but she was also still wrapped up in his return. It felt so good to be back with her hand in his, the glow of his presence enveloping her. She’d never missed someone like she had the past few days, never ached this way to be reunited with someone. It was a testament to all she felt for him and how much she’d come to love him. Quietly she stopped walking, pulling Killian’s attention. With a quick glance behind them, she saw no one had followed. They were totally alone and so she made her move. Pulling him down for another kiss, she said a proper hello, and shivered in delight at his reaction.

His hands were on her, seemingly everywhere, holding her close as they tasted each other. She felt his soft dark hair between her fingers, where she ran them through by the nape of his neck. She arched in closer, feeling the friction of their bodies together, and sighing in pleasure when they pulled apart. It couldn’t go further than that, but Emma felt more secure having shown him even in a small way how happy she was to see him.

“Hell of a welcome home, love,” he growled out, words low and throaty from his own swirling emotion. “If leaving wasn’t torture in itself, I’d consider more trips just for this.”

“No need to leave for these,” she whispered to him, leaning in for another kiss but then nipping him gently instead and stepping back out of his grasp. She smiled at his evident frustration, and laughed when he groaned in defeat. He knew he was had, but from the way he pulled her back into his arms, running his hand along the small of her back and looking at her adoringly, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You are a marvel, love. Have I mentioned that yet?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she teased, looking back to where they’d been walking and giving him silent permission to lead to their destination once more. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Beautiful was an understatement. In truth, Emma had never seen such intricate floral designs or such an array of colors and flower species. She had to imagine it was more than a palace garden. This had to be one of the most beautiful botanical spaces in all of Europe.

“Much of that is my mother’s doing. Her passion project, so to speak. She brought us out here when we were boys. Showed us bits and bobs. But this has always been hallowed grounds. Special, and perhaps, as Henry hinted, a little magical as well.”

Emma was poised to reply, but at that moment they turned a corner and things changed. They were still in a garden, but this time – oh lord it was difficult to describe. Magnificent was the first word that came to mind, and ethereal came soon after. For where there were blossoms and buds before, now there even more, hanging from pergolas above and winding through ivy vines on every hedge. Some were clearly naturally placed, but Emma noticed pieces woven into this area that she’d seen before, half a world away.

“Windchimes,” she murmured, looking at the gorgeous displays that reminded her of home.

There was a storefront, totally discrete from the street view and far off of the beaten path, deep in the heart of Chinatown, that she and Henry had found when he was younger. It was filled with artisan chimes and motifs and mobiles made from natural items and glass and more. The owners were amazing and known in crafting circles around the globe. The first day Emma and Henry visited taking refuge from a sudden winter chill, the couple who owned the store had taken the time to walk her son through their work. They’d then spent hours in the studio, and though Emma had very little by way of money for a purchase, they’d showed her and Henry nothing but the utmost kindness. She’d always found the pieces beautiful, comprised of shells and flecks of crystal or silver and gold, swirled into constellations that evoked a night sky or sense of wonder.

Over the years she and Henry returned to the studio many times, and even bought a few pieces when she could save enough to treat herself to something precious. There was so much beauty crafted in each piece. Emma always found herself wanting more, and she loved their trips back over and over again. The style of this artwork was one of a kind. Emma had never seen other pieces like these, but here, in this patch of the garden, there had to be a hundred intricate, delicate, interrelated art pieces dancing in the wind.

“How is this possible?”

“Henry may have mentioned something. Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous. God, the time it must have taken to put this all together…”

“Was time well spent, believe me, love.” Emma looked to him and she could have sworn from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that he was the one who had done this. But that was crazy. How could he have possibly had time for all this?

“But how did it all even get here?”

“I brought it.”

“You brought it?” Emma asked, stunned, her fingertips grazing the smoothed lines of one art piece dripping in sea glass. “You were in New York.”

“Aye.”

“But why?”

“Patience, love. There’s more to see.”

Emma had no idea how there could possibly be more, but she tucked her arm through Killian’s and walked with him to the next section of gardens. Here there was a sudden burst of purples and whites, and a scent she’d been missing without even realizing it. Lilacs, but none of them in season. Oh God, look at all of them.

“Killian,” she whispered, looking at what must have been thousands of bouquets of her favorite flower. It was unbelievable, but it was real, and she moved forward, seeing them all set up and displayed prominently in the midst of a garden with white roses. It was gorgeous and surreal. And now she was utterly dazed and more than a little confused.

“You and Henry are well known at the Brooklyn gardens love, as I’m sure you are well aware. I had it on good authority from a woman named Ella that lilacs are your particular favorite.”

“These can’t all be from there,” Emma said and Killian shook his head.

“No, these are admittedly sourced from a few specialty purveyors across the continent. But this,” he pulled out a polaroid of a small lilac tree that was recently planted. Looking at the surroundings, Emma realized that was outside Killian’s home here in Montenarro. “This is directly from the gardens. The same family and strain, all the way from New York.”

Emma was too shocked to speak, and felt the tears welling in her eyes. He had done so much for her, and she knew it was for one reason. He wanted to bring part of her home, part of a place that meant so much to Henry and her, here to his home. It was so thoughtful she felt tongue tied. What could she say? This was all so much.

Unbelievably there was even more, and over the next few minutes he took her through three more break away gardens, each filled with other staples of her one-time home. Food and culture and memories and more. This man had managed to find all of the best parts of her time in New York and he had brought them here. Some of them were things completely out of the realm of possibility.

“I can’t believe you found this,” Emma said, holding onto a years-old piece of construction paper that had been forgotten to time.

This picture was one of so many projects that her son had made in life, but Emma cherished the memories that went with it. Another example of the city’s serendipity, this painting chronicled a day of adventure for Emma and Henry. They’d wandered all through the city, and ended up in Queens for a special summer program for kids. She was always looking for magic moments for Henry, especially ones designed for a budgeting single Mom, and this one had delivered. There were story times and games, crafts and activities, and Henry had been thrilled. He made this picture of the two of them, and though it looked nothing like Emma, it had captured her heart. It also caught the eye of the librarians working that day and they’d selected it to put on the wall in the Children’s wing. Henry was oh so proud, his four-year-old heart filled with joy at getting to hang his art somewhere aside from their refrigerator door. It meant something to Emma, another example of her doing her best by her boy, and giving him all that she’d never had.

“There was a picture of you and Henry and this particular masterpiece in the Saturday Times.”

“Okay now how could you possibly know that?”

“Your neighbor, Mrs. Hubbard. She was very forthcoming, and she’d saved the article. Has it framed and everything.”

“You spoke to Mrs. H?” Emma asked completely bewildered, and Killian nodded. “And the library had it all this time?”

“Aye. In the archives. Nothing a few strategically planned favors couldn’t procure.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Emma said, letting the tears finally fall. This was all too much, but she was immediately comforted by the feel of Killian’s strong arms. His hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping some of the tears as he shook his head, his eyes full of earnest feeling and emotion.

“That’s where you’re wrong, love. You deserve every good thing the world over. I know it’s presumptuous for a man like me to ask for such a treasure, but I swear to you I’ll spend my life giving everything I can.”

“I already have everything. I have you, and Henry,” Emma said. “This is beautiful, but it’s nothing to you.”

Killian hummed out a sigh of contentment, but where Emma expected a kiss, she watched instead as he pulled back, reaching for something in his pocket. “I was hoping you’d feel this way. Makes this next part a bit less nerve wracking.”

In a smooth gesture, he pulled out a small black box and lowered to the ground. Watching Killian drop down to one knee here in the gardens, Emma felt totally adrift from all cares of the world. She was stunned and yet deeply aware that this had all been a long time coming. There was no doubt in her heart that she loved Killian, and she held no fear over taking this next step. This man had shown her for months that he genuinely cared for her and her son. He would move mountains for them, if only for a possibility of their happiness. He was selfless and loyal and true, and he made her brave, emboldening her to believe that the risk was worth it. Love was worth it. Still, it was shocking, to be adored so deeply, and to know that someone truly felt the world began and ended with her.

“Emma, I realize that this is perhaps soon by some standards, but believe me when I say that I have been aching to ask you this question since the moment we met.”

More tears formed in her eyes, thinking back on that day. Her world had truly shifted in the span of one morning. There was a time before Killian, before romantic love that ever made her hopeful, and then there was more. It all started at the center, but it built well beyond those four walls. Knowing what she did now, she had to call their encounter what it had been – love at first sight. Maybe she hadn’t admitted it then, and surely she hadn’t said it aloud, but that is what transpired. She took one look at this man, this extraordinary, incredible man, and she was hooked, plain and simple.

“You amazed me then, that first day at the Institute. I didn’t realize anyone like you could truly be real, or that I was capable of forming an attachment with such strength. I had seen too much, I reasoned, knew the darkness of the world in ways that may leave me lacking for the rest of my days. I thought such chances at something halfway near normal were beyond me, but those first sparks between us proved me wrong. I was totally ensnared, caught in a web you couldn’t help for making, and still, that immediate response can’t compare to all I feel now. Knowing you – loving you – I am more certain each and every day that you hold my heart in your hand. I am yours, Emma. I have been yours, and I will remain yours all the days of my life.”

There was absolutely no chance at stopping from crying now, but the sensation was one of happiness. She was actually living a fairytale. Her, the once lost girl who never had a nickel to her name, or a friend to keep her going. She had survived the cruelest affairs of the heart. She had been so terribly and tragically alone, but she persisted, and she learned, through the grace of her son, and the courage of her convictions, to live. Now with Killian she was starting anew, building up the small life she’d shared with Henry into something much bigger. To say she was exited at the prospect was an understatement.

“Emma Swan, will you -,”

“I want to adopt Cecelia!” Emma said abruptly, blurting out a seemingly unrelated fact in the middle of what had been the most beautiful proposal. She was mortified, but only for a moment. Because the smile on Killian’s face calmed the storm inside her.

“Ah, right. You see, I had anticipated that, though in the interest of full disclosure I envisioned this part of the conversation after your reply to the proposal. Regardless, I offer you this, love.”

Emma watched as he juggled the ring and instinctively she took it, holding the box and sparing another glance at the absolutely beautiful band. Her fingers itched to put it on now, but she knew it would be so much better to let Killian do the honors. She then watched in amazement as he pulled out a series of papers from inside his jacket. He opened the file containing them all and showed her an application for adoption. The child in question was Cecelia, and the forms listed both Emma and Killian as petitioning guardians. Now she was completely overwhelmed. He knew every single part of her. Every hope. Every dream. He was perfect.

“Family is so much more than blood, Swan, as we both know, and I think we’ve known for sometimes that Cecelia will always be our princess.”

“Yes,” Emma whispered. Yes to everything, yes to all of it.

“I’ve also spoken to Henry, not intentionally per se, wanting to speak with you first, but it would mean the world to adopt him as well. I don’t know how you’d feel about that, but I-,”

“Yes,” she said again, this time with even more conviction.

“Yes?” he asked with a hopeful grin and she nodded. “Well in that case. May I, love?”

She handed him the papers which he put down beside them with care. Emma watched as he took the ring box back from her other hand. He settled down on bended knee again, preparing himself for another attempt at asking her to marry him. It took everything in her to bite her tongue and let him actually get the request out.

“Emma Swan, love of my life, light of my spirit, and queen of my heart, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

“Yes.”

Everything from there went quickly as he slipped the ring on her finger, tossing the box without care to the group. Killian was up at full height in mere moments, pulling her in for a scorching kiss and Emma was complete. It may not have been a totally according to plan proposal, but Emma believed what they had was even better, because it was real and true and filled with so much love. She could think of no better way to start a beautiful forever, and when they pulled back, resting their foreheads against each other and soaking in the moment, Emma let out a sigh of sheer relief. This was what they meant when they said happily ever after, and it was so very worth the wait.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy,” Emma murmured aloud.

“Neither have I,” an emotional voice said – only it wasn’t Killian. The voice continued. “Truly beautiful.”

“Gran,” Killian muttered shaking his head. Emma bit her lip and covered her mouth. They had absolutely just been caught out here, but when they both turned to see their unexpected audience, consisting of Killian’s family, Elsa and Anna, and Henry and Cecelia, a different person outside of all the rest, was revealed to be the culprit.

“You take that back, Killian, for you know better than that,” Gran said, standing beside a dressed up and dazzling looking Mrs. Hubbard. Mr. Hubbard was there too, his hand on Henry’s shoulder and his leg being held onto by a very friendly Cecelia. Emma never expected to see her dear, sweet neighbors. Their appearance here in Montenarro left her floored.

“My new friends are a treat, believe me,” Gran continued, walking forward, and seemingly giving everyone else the silent permission to do the same. “But their spying skills need work. I would never speak through such a moment, nor rustle these hedges with quite so much gusto. Not to worry though, they’ll learn.”

Everyone descended in that moment to wish them all well, but the most important reactions came from Henry and from Cecelia. The happiness of both of these kids – their kids – gave Emma tremendous joy and satisfaction. She was also thrilled to share this with their blended family, and with the friends who had become such strong bonds in her new life. After much congratulations, everyone returned to the party, and an announcement was made. If Emma believed the reaction to be enthusiastic from her loved ones, it was even bolder from all of the children at the center. Indeed, the happiness and infectious sense of hope made for the best party any of them had ever been to, and created an afternoon like none she’d ever experienced.

Hours later, Emma was still reeling from the high, and loving the fact that she and Killian had stayed together all day. He’d never let her go after her saying yes, always beside her, supporting her, adoring her, and loving her endlessly. She was so happy with him, but as the day drew to a close, her spirits dampened slightly. In his usual form, Killian caught on immediately.

“What’s the matter, love?” he asked, sure that no one else was listening, even though they were still amidst the party.

“Nothing,” Emma said automatically, though that was only half true. “This is one of the best days of my life. It’s just… the waiting…”

“Aye, I’ve considered that too. But I think I’ve arrived at a workable solution.” Emma looked at him curiously. “I will submit for a special license from the crown. The King and I are on decent terms you see.”

“Decent, huh?” Emma teased, looking over at Liam and finding him swaying with Elsa on a makeshift dance floor. There wasn’t even any music playing, but to this happy couple, and to the children dancing nearby, that didn’t matter in the slightest.

“He’s been in better spirits of late, as you might imagine.”

“Seems to be going around.”

“Mmm,” Killian hummed out, running his hand along her cheek and looking at her with sincerity and bliss. “We can have everything arranged in a week. It’ll be quite the undertaking, but the staff is up to the challenge.”

“A week?” Emma said, not believing it. Surely it must take longer than that, but she loved the idea. In truth, she’d marry him right now if she could. “Can we really do that?”

“Just say the word, Emma.”

“Yes,” she said nodding. “It’s crazy. Actually it’s totally insane, but yes, please, yes.”

“As you wish,” he replied kissing her again under the party lights and lighting her aflame once more. “In the meantime, I’ve no wish to be apart. We should be together, love, as long as that’s what you want.”

“I do.”

“Everything’s ready. I’ve been working for weeks on it. The rooms for Henry, for Cecelia, all of it. It’s merely a matter of moving your things in, all of which can be done tonight.”

“You’re serious?” Emma asked and he nodded.

“A magistrate’s already granted temporary custody for Cecelia. You can take her home now while the process continues. Please, love, say you’ll all come home to me.”

Emma looked over to Henry and to Cecelia, who were dancing together on the floor. Emma watched as her son already took so well to his new sister, and as if she’d conjured his attention, Henry glanced her way. He waved, a sign that Emma returned. Drawing attention to them set Cecelia in motion, and soon the little girl was dragging Henry across the party. Soon enough they were back together, the four of them a new but undoubtedly permanent unit. Cecelia jumped into Killian’s arms, and Henry came to Emma’s side looking up with his knowing expression.

“What’s up, Mom?” he asked and Emma smiled, unable to resist pulling him and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“How would you feel about moving to Killian’s house -,”

“Our house,” Killian stressed and Emma chuckled.

“Sorry, our house, tonight?”

“That would be awesome!” Henry said excitedly. “Can we do that?”

“Aye.”

“And me too?” Cecelia asked hopefully.

“Yes, honey, you too,” Emma said, brushing a stray curl from Cecelia’s face. The kids made their feelings known. They were in, totally and completely. “Well I guess we have our answer then.”

“Aye, love. The best of answers, all around.”

And so, later that night, when the festivities of the day had ended, and the children all departed, Emma and Killian, Henry and Cecelia all headed home together, enjoying their first night in a place that would always be theirs. And though Emma knew they were in for a crazy week of planning and party design, and wedding wildness, she was truly joyful. For this was a life beyond her wildest dreams, and she knew, deep down to her core, that it was going to be breathtaking.

Post-Note: So… what did you think? Personally, I found it SO cathartic to write this scene. It’s been such a long time coming and I have pictured this outcome for Emma and for Killian even before writing the first word of this story. Almost a year ago to the day this story came to me, and my hope is to write out the final chapter by the one year anniversary in early May. Hopefully it won’t take quite so long, but please know that it has been a joy to write this and share with all of you. I hope this chapter and this fic have brought some brightness to your world and some magic to your moment. This has been an insane time, but I’ve been grateful to share it with all of you. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed, and I’d love to hear what your hopes for the end of this story are. Until next time, wishing you all well and healthy and safe! xE.

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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Dragon | The Witcher

Chapter 16 | Steel for Humans

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Targaryen!OC

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Warnings: Skeevy bandits being Skeevy bandits

Word Count: 7.5k

Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ Also! My tag list is open!

He's looking at her again.

She can feel it; a shiver up her spine, the prickling feeling in the back of her mind to be alert for something, all telltale signs of his eyes on her. Every time she turns to meet his gaze, to try and decipher the whys and what's in his eyes, he looks away. And in the midst of all of her uncertainty, she's sure of at least one thing, he's still reeling from her confession, despite it being weeks since her name, her real name slipped from her lips. He doesn't say that he's still trying to piece together the puzzle, but he doesn't need to. She can see it in the way he carries himself around her, his lingering eyes and stumbling words.

More than a few times he's called her Jane, instinctively, if she were to have to guess. And each time she just simply raises a brow at him before he swiftly corrects himself, eyes wild and uncertain, unable to directly look into hers. She never gets mad or annoyed, the exact opposite, in fact. She's never seen this side of Geralt that resembles a fumbling boy who still isn't a man yet; all rosy cheeks and shy conversation. Normally Geralt is so put together, constantly in control of the situation, and yet, something as simple as a name change is all it takes to throw him off.

Another thing she's certain of is just how much she enjoys the way he says her name, the smooth Valyrian name effortlessly slipping past his lips. It's like a symphony, a sound not even the most renowned of bards could replicate. But she'd never tell him that.

She continues staring at her face in the old mirror, dust and cracks speckling across her reflection. But she looks past it, staring at her eyes that are like liquid gold, and her fair skin, nearly glowing in the dim light. She frowns, lines appearing around her mouth - lines that weren't always there. Under her eyes are small wrinkles, hidden by the dark circles from countless sleepless nights in the least ideal spots, but she can pick them out a mile away.

She's older, that much is obvious, but how much older is not.

She used to count each day, the wall near the bed in her old room in Blaviken covered in small little lines meant to represent every time she fell asleep. She stopped keeping track after the town burned to the ground. At first, it was too painful to think of anything beyond the basic necessities of her survival. But then time drifted away, things grew easier the longer she spent with Jaskier. She smiled more, laughed more, and felt lighter than she had in a long time. And now she finds herself in an odd position, unsure of how much older she is.

"Geralt." She doesn't remove her eyes from her reflection. He grunts, a sign that he's listening. Always a man of few words.

"How long has it been since Blaviken?" She hears a sharp intake of breath before it's released back into the air. It's silent a moment longer.

"You don't know?" Geralt asks, skepticism and disbelief abundant in his voice.

"No." She reaches a hand up, tracing the new scars that mare her face, they're faint, nothing more than a whisper on her face. To everyone else, they're only visible in the flicker of a candle at the right angle, but she's always aware of them.

"Fifteen years."

Her hand drops, limp at her side. She turns a flurry of hair and wind, facing Geralt with an odd expression on her face. She can't discern how to feel with that revelation. How is one supposed to react upon figuring out the fifteen years have passed, and they don't even know it? She wants to protest, to scream that he's lying to her, and demand that he tell her the truth, the real truth and not some practical joke. But the longer she thinks on it, her eyes resting on Geralt's stone face, the more it makes sense.

She thinks back to Winterfell, trying to remember the smells of her previous home. To remember how everything felt under her fingertips - whether it be in the warm castle or the icy cold. She tries to recall how everyone looked the last time she saw them, tried to visualize their exact heights in comparison to hers, to recall small imperfections that made them not smooth porcelain dolls. Only then, when she focuses so hard on doing just that, does she realize she can't even remember their faces. She can see their general shapes, her mind recognizing them as either Jon, Robb, or anyone else important enough to remember. But when she tries to zoom in and make their faces clearer, they're nothing but humanoid-like blurs.

Her face twitches, in discomfort or shock, she's not sure.

"Huh." It's the only thing she manages to say, unable to force her mind to think of another response or to form the words with her mouth. She's utterly frozen in place.

She almost allows her mind to wander, thinking of what may have happened to the rest of the Stark children. Would they have found peace and safety, or would they have blown away like leaves in the wind, desolated by monsters and grief? But she banishes the thoughts before they could form. What would be the point? All it would do is pull her into another bout of melancholy, the same suffering she was drowning in whilst hiding away in Blaviken. So she does what she's best at; she takes all unpleasant thoughts and ghosts and locks them into a little box in the back of her mind. Leaving it to collect dust until it's long forgotten.

"You didn't know that?" Geralt asks, breaking his statue-like posture to step closer to Visenya. She doesn't answer, she simply shakes her head, her breathing shaky and unsteady.

'Fifteen years.'

The number echoes in her mind, it's on repeat and she finds herself unable to escape it. He's silent, Geralt is always silent. But she welcomes it, more so now than ever.

Her fingers begin to count down as she counts up, the numbers hardly above the breaths she takes. She looks down at the ground, counting the grain in the wooden floors.

"21, 22, 23, 24…"

She pauses, finishing the math in her mind. She opens her mouth, cautiously.

"Thirty-five… I'm thirty-five years old now." It makes sense, her face appears much older than when she first arrived, the lines and crow's feet not just a result of poor living conditions and battle scars.

"Is that a bad thing?" Geralt asks. Visenya looks up at him. His facial expression remains much the same as before, but his eyes glow with a hint of curiosity. Not that he would ever admit to it if she ever called him out on it.

"No, I just-- never thought I'd make it this far," Visenya says, a sardonic grin pulling at her lips that looks more like a grimace than anything.

"With the life, you've had--" Geralt starts, his voice low and raspy, but Visenya cuts him off with a bout of laughter that sounds more like knives than bells. He closes his mouth, simply raising a brow at Visenya.

"You have no idea, Geralt of Rivia." She shakes her head, the grin-grimace hybrid still on her face, yet her eyes tell a different story. They're despondent and regretful, and Geralt can't understand why.

"Then perhaps you should tell me." Suddenly Visenya is no longer laughing. She stares at Geralt with a type of intensity he's never seen in her eyes before. And before he can bring himself to get used to it, to allow himself to sink in the new atmosphere that surrounds them, she dissolves it, eyes turning warm and mischievous once more.

"Give it another fifteen years, and maybe then," she says, feather-light laughter following her words. She turns once more, hair whipping behind her as she continues to stare at her reflection. Her hair is longer, reaching a few inches below her breasts. Her roots are slightly grown out, allowing a little bit of shining silver to peek through the mud brown. She still can't decide if she wants to continue dying it or not. But she tucks that thought away, not wanting to unpack everything that comes with those thoughts. Not after she just packed away unpleasant thoughts that are of a similar vein.

"Plus, I've told you more things than I've told anyone else, and still I feel as though I know nothing of you," Visenya says, turning around once more, moving away from the dingy mirror. This causes Geralt to laugh - it's rough and dark, the complete opposite of Visenya's. It causes shivers to rush up her spine and a fluttering sensation to form in her stomach.

She passes by him, a hand ghosting over his shoulder. She exits the room and Geralt swiftly follows. His footsteps are much heavier than hers; she's like a soft summer breeze while he's the terrifying winter winds that threaten to blow everything down.

They walk the length of the hall, down the winding staircase, and out of the inn where Roach is patiently waiting for them. Throughout their small journey, they maintained not only the same distance between one another but the same space.

She only pauses upon reaching Roach, a hand resting on the mare's side as she gently pets her. Visenya looks at Geralt, who now stands precisely two paces away from her - one pace closer than he had been five seconds ago.

"Fair is fair," she says, raising her brows. A grumble of a laugh escapes his mouth, so quiet it could almost be mistaken for the world itself shaking. His laughter causes his eyes to close for a brief second before he opens them once more.

"I can't argue with that. In exchange for what you've told me, I'll tell you about my first hunt. Does that sound like a fair bargain?" he asks, a certain lightness in his eyes that quickly disappears in the time it takes for her to blink and open her eyes again. She holds a hand out, and he places his own in it. They shake their hands, two times to be exact.

"Sounds like a deal to me."

oOo

"I'd only just left Kaer Morhen, a new Witcher who was naive enough to think I could save the world. I came across a gang of men who were about to rape a young girl, a few of them holding back the girl's father." Geralt says, his voice quiet and somber, but she could hear each word perfectly. They're both riding on Roach, with Visenya in front and Geralt's arms slung loosely around her as he holds Roach's reins. The mare doesn't need much guidance though, she just follows the winding road ahead of them, and neither Geralt nor Visenya corrects her.

"And then what happened," Visenya asks, resisting the urge to turn around and look at Geralt. He's so good at obscuring any emotion or feelings when he speaks, often opting to talk with a monotonous voice. While hilarious when dealing witty one-liners, it makes it near impossible to discern how he feels. His eyes on the other hand are a completely different story.

To most, they may seem as empty and dead as a poorly done painting, but Visenya can read him like an open book - spotting small flickers of different emotions. After all, Visenya often employs the same tactic to appear as cold and unfeeling as possible, it's only natural she sees through when others try to do it to her.

"I killed them, the bald man with the rotted teeth and all his friends. The girl's father fled right after--" Geralt says.

"And the girl?" Visenya says, unable to stop herself from interrupting him. When he promised her a tale of his first hunt, this isn't exactly what she expected, yet she finds herself enthralled none-the-less. A part of her wonders how different her history might've been if Geralt lived in Westeros. What would be different, if anything at all. She knows with complete certainty that the Geralt she knows would have no problem defeating the Mountain. But if Geralt lived in Westeros instead of here, he wouldn't be a Witcher. Which means he'd have none of the capabilities that make him superior to mortals. So her train of thought is moot and pointless.

But she can't help the twitch of a smirk on her lips as she imagines Geralt slicing the Mountain's head off his body; the cut clean and precise. And instead of a girl about to be raped by a slimy bandit, she sees the Mountain looming over her mother, and Geralt saving her just in time.

"What happened to the girl?" This time she doesn't fight the urge to turn and look at Geralt. She turns her head just enough to see the right side of his face. His eyes are far away, recalling memories that are probably lifetimes away. The mid-day sunlight aggressively shines onto his face, but it's deceiving in its harshness for it provides no warmth. The air is cold and icy, freezing dead leaves and small twigs into timeless statues that will melt when summer comes again.

"She was covered in the bald man's blood, but unharmed, not that you'd know that with how she reacted. When I approached her, she screamed, vomited, and then passed out," Geralt says. His tone remains even, not portraying any feelings.

She turns her head to face the road once more, her lips pursing in concentration.

Would her mother have reacted the same if Geralt swept into her chamber like an angel of death, white hair his halo, and the blade strapped to his back his judgment? Or would she have thanked him, tears streaming down her face as she held her screaming children?

"And how did that make you feel?" she asks, not daring to turn and look at him once more. She fears if he takes one look at her eyes, he'll see all the thoughts furiously swimming in the flames that dance in them. She can feel him shrug more than see it, the movement of his shoulders causing his arm to brush against her back.

"Like shit," he simply replies. Visenya scoffs, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips.

She opens her mouth, a witty quip on the tip of her tongue when she's cut off by a scream. It comes from her right, in the forest, but not so deeply hidden that the dying trees and frostbitten leaves muffle the noises. Her posture turns stiff like a board, the hairs on her body standing up straight.

"Did you--" she begins, only to be cut off by another scream, this one more guttural than the last, yet not beast-like in nature. Visenya turns, catching Geralt's eyes. He nods, acknowledging that the shouts aren't just in her head, the manifestation of deeply hidden thoughts resurfacing. He hears it too.

Without allowing a moment of hesitation or for her mind to catch up with her actions, she jumps off of Roach, unsheathing her blade. The dragon hilt is cold as ice, but soothing to the heat slowly rising in Visenya.

A loud thud follows only a moment later, signaling that Geralt is following her lead. She'd feel touched by his lack of protest when it comes to her charging headfirst into the unknown, but the situation is far too dangerous for any distractions, even if only for a brief second.

Blood rushing and heart pounding, she turns to ice as another scream echoes in their ears. It's closer this time, sounding as if someone is shouting while choking on their blood. Visenya's pace quickens, her heart racing faster as adrenaline floods her body in preparation for the potential fight that seems more likely than not as each second passes. The grip on her sword tightens as she clenches her jaw. Dozens of battle maneuvers and tactics fly through her mind, all the years of training; both in Winterfell and with Geralt blaring in her mind.

Another scream, this one deeper than the previous. Visenya picks up her pace again, eager for this confrontation to be over before it even begins. She glances behind and Geralt is right behind her, sword unsheathed and face battle-hardened.

For the fifth time, another scream rips through the trees, but now that they're closer, Visenya hears the rustling of what sounds like people running. The muffled noise of jeers and mocking voices trickle into her ears.

People, they're dealing with people, and not literal monsters. Though most times, people can be the worst type of monster there is.

With a deep breath that she quickly releases, Visenya reaches a handout, pushing away the branches that separate her and Geralt from the apparent attackers.

'The blood of the dragon is not afraid.'

The phrase enters her mind without thought. But instead of banishing it away, she embraces it. She imagines Queen Visenya beside her, a stern expression on her beautiful face, lips curling into a snarl that would perfectly mimic Vhaegar.

When she opens her eyes, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. A group of six or so humans wielding various types of weapons that were dripping with blood stand in the small clearing. The source of the screams quickly became clear; a small family of elves with blood dripping from various wounds. A male elf lays on his stomach, unmoving; meanwhile, a woman cowers in a corner, pressing her body against a tree, three children with her. The smallest of the three were huddled on either side of her as she attempted to soothe them, tears streaming down her bloodied face. Meanwhile, the oldest, only looking to be seven at the most, stands in front of her, the branch from a tree between his unsteady hands. He holds it as if it's a blade, determined to protect what remains of his family.

The humans are bandits and not very successful ones; with worn mismatched leather armor and blades that look seconds away from rusting. But they wear sneers on the face, showing rotted teeth and foul words. They snap their attention toward Visenya who enters first and watch her for a moment as she watches them, taking in the scene before her.

She expected the worst, but nothing could've prepared her for this. It's too familiar, too close to home. She feels her vision go red, blood pumping in her veins, and skin nearly burning.

"Look at this boys, no need to find a nearby brothel. Looks like our entertainment found us," one of the men says, a twisted smirk curling on his cracked and bleeding lips. Visenya's face contorts into a look of disgust. The other men around them laugh, cackles that sound more like screams than sounds of delight.

Visenya tightens her grip on the hilt of her sword, teeth grinding as she clenches her jaw tighter. She takes a single step forward.

"Pretty thing you are, and you look like a fighter. Good, I like it when they fight," the man continues, undisturbed or intimidated by Visenya.

"And I like it when bastards like you are six feet under. Lucky for me you will be, soon," Visenya says, her voice gravelly and harsh like a growl. She smiles, her mouth looking more like the snarl of a wolf that's moments away from attacking.

The man doesn't falter, instead, he barks out a laugh, pointing his finger at Visenya as he does.

"Funny," he says. He nods his head at a few of the men, turning his attention back to the elf and her children. "But be a dear and be quiet. I have some business to attend to." He lifts his blade and begins approaching the woman. The child holds his stick up high, about to try and defend his mother when the bandit just shoves him aside, knocking the kid on the ground. A loud crack resounds in the clearing as his small head collides with a protruding rock.

The elven woman screams, crawling to try and get as far away as possible, clutching her kids tighter against her. Tears stream down her face as vigorous as a waterfall. Dread fills Visenya, all her thoughts consumed by panic.

"No!" Visenya screams. She moves to charge him, but a grimy hand holds onto her, keeping her from running. She turns towards the man, and wildly swings her blade. It misses, but in dodging it, he loses enough of his footing that he lets go of her.

He goes to grab her again, but before he can try, a blade slices into his neck, causing blood to gush out of the wound before he drops to the ground. Visenya doesn't have to look to know it's Geralt, but she does anyway. A deep scowl is set on his face, eyes blazing in a way that's eerily similar to Visenya's. He growls, eyes assessing the scene before them. He glances at Visenya, then moves his eyes to the leader. Visenya nods, understanding the nonverbal cue.

Save the girl.

"A fucking Witcher!" The man spits out. He spits turning away from the elf, no longer able to ignore the threat right in front of him. "Just kill them both, I hear Witchers make good coin."

Then everything descends into chaos. The rest of the bandits charge Visenya and Geralt, but she pays them no mind. She nimbly dodges each one of their attacks, leaving them to Geralt. Her eyes stay on the leader, who's eyes rest solely on her as well. He grabs a second blade from the ground, ripping it from the hands of the dead elf. He strides towards her and she meets him halfway in a clash of blades and fury.

Their blades meet in a cross, the clang of metal ringing in her ears. She scowls as he snarls, spittle flying into her face.

She jumps back and pivots to his side. His gaze follows her, body turning as she does. Like a butcher cutting a pig, he hacks down at her. She parries it with her blade, pushing it away as if it's nothing more than an annoyance. His second one comes down a moment later and she dodges to the other side, the blade slicing through empty air. A third swing, his other hand comes down, this time towards her face. She crouches low to the ground as she brings her blade up to block the hit, using her lower position to steady her body as she pushes against him, both hands holding onto the hilt.

He presses down and she pushes upward, arms shaking from the exertion. She screams, the sound eerily similar to the roar of a dragon, moments before it decimates its enemies with its fiery wrath. With a burst of power, she shoots up, causing him to stumble back.

Right and left, she slashes her blade at him. His leather armor takes the brunt of the first hit, but the second one manages to piece into flesh. She snarls as he screeches in pain. Clammy hands begin to shakily smack against his belt, desperately looking for a blade to try and stick her with, but she doesn't give him the chance.

She kicks him in the abdomen. The force of it slamming his already weak body against a tree. There's a loud crack as his body makes contact, another howl of pain escaping his mouth.

"Stupid bit--"

Her blade stabs into his neck, stopping him mid-sentence. Blood pours out of his mouth, a gurgling sound replacing his scratchy voice.

"Fuck you," Visenya says. She then spits at him, the saliva landing on his chest and disappearing into the blood.

She sighs, the sounds of fighting die down, and she turns around. Geralt is standing in the center of the clearing, blood speckling his armor and dripping off his blades, but luckily none of the blood is his. Her tense shoulder loosens slightly, the adrenaline leaving with the threats. She tosses her blade to the side, making a mental note to clean it later.

Turning to her right, she sees the elven woman with her children still cowering in the corner, all three of her children around her, the eldest of them knocked out cold. Now that no threats are looming over them, Visenya allows herself a moment to inspect the three of them.

The mother looks to be middle age, with wheat blonde hair and pallid skin, her bones protruding in a way that the bones of someone well-nourished wouldn't. Her eyes are down and as large as a doe, the sparkle in them enhanced by salty tears.

The small girl looks nearly identical to her, her wheat hair in a messy braid that's falling apart. She clutches her mother's hand tighter, moving further into her the longer Visenya looks at her. The other boy is the complete opposite, with dark disheveled hair and blue eyes. His face is blotchy and wet from tears, but he doesn't seem to fully understand why. Staring at Visenya with blank curiosity rather than fear.

"Are you hurt?" Visenya asks, making a conscious effort to make her voice as light and harmless as possible. She takes a step forward, a branch breaking under her foot. The woman gasps, pressing herself further against the tree.

Visenya stops, holding her arms up, a nonverbal sign that she means peace. The woman doesn't relax, not that Visenya expects her to.

"You--you--you," the woman stutters, tears still streaming down her face, but not as frantically as they were moments ago.

"Saved you, yes," Visenya says, taking another step forward. The woman doesn't cower, but her fear doesn't lessen.

"I don't have coin," she says, her voice wavering in between her sobs. Visenya shrugs, a small smile curling on her lips.

"And I have more than enough," Visenya says. The woman continues to stare at her, not uttering a single word. It's like they're frozen in place, only the tears running down her cheeks and their shaking forms giving away that they're in fact real. Visenya feels her stomach twist itself into knots.

She should grab her blade and leave the clearing behind, get back on Roach with Geralt and ride off to the next destination. At the very least her conscience would be eased by the fact that they kept these band of idiots from hurting the woman and her children.

And yet…

A voice whispers in her ear to not, that she'd never stop thinking about this moment, wondering what became of them. Did they save them from these bandits only to get robbed and left for dead by the next group of pricks with pointy swords? She couldn't live with it, she realizes. Not if she doesn't do everything in her power to ensure they arrive home safely and alive… wherever home is. A sigh escapes her mouth, so quiet it could be mistaken for the wind.

"You have no reason to trust me, I get that, but at the very least I saved you from those pricks, so I can't be that bad, right?" Visenya asks, voice rougher and blunter than she intended for it to be. Internally she winces as the woman cowers for a brief second, but then slowly she nods her head.

"Right. Your son is injured, how serious, I'm not sure. I don't know, maybe you have some training in the art of healing, but if you're not, at the very least, I'm no stranger to minor injuries. I can help him," Visenya continues. The elven woman doesn't cower anymore, her rapid tears dwindling to a light drizzle rather than a heavy pour. She nods once more, and Visenya finds herself sighing in relief.

Without wasting another moment she takes a step forward, turning towards the child on the ground. She crouches beside him, his mother moving to be on his other side. Her shining eyes are sharp, watching Visenya with the likeness of a hawk watching its prey.

He looks to be a mixture of his mother and presumably his father. His hair is a dirty blonde, freckles dotting his tan skin. He's not nearly as frail as his other siblings, similar to how Jon, Robb, and Theon looked when they first started training in Winterfell. But he seems to have much less meat on his bones.

Visenya places her warm hands on his face, lifting his head and moving a hand to gently cradle his head. There's a large bruise blossoming on the right side of his forehead, but there's no blood or any other signs of injury. She places a hand on his heart, feeling it beat against her hand, then slides it to the side of his neck, feeling a pulse there as well.

"He didn't get hit with a weapon," the woman says, whether convincing herself of his safety or trying to feed Visenya information she isn't sure. Or it could be a mixture of both.

"No, but he took a hard fall, I've seen men twice his size get knocked on their heads and never get back up, and if they do, they're never the same. There's bleeding, but that doesn't mean he's completely safe," Visenya says, removing her hands from his body.

"Is there anything to be done?" she asks, picking his up and gently cradling his head in her lap.

"Other than wait and see when he wakes? No. As I said, I'm no healer, but I have a tea that can help ease his pain. He'll have a bad headache and sore body, that much is certain," Visenay says. She looks over at the two other children; a girl and a boy. They're young, that for certain, younger than the boy on the ground.

"How much?" the woman asks, not removing her eyes from her son. Visenya's brows furrow in confusion.

"How much what?"

"How much will I owe you for the herbs?" the woman asks again, looking Visenya directly in the eyes. Her tears are dry, but her eyes still shine from the residual dampness.

"Nothing. He needs it now more than I do. I can buy more when I reach the next town," Visenya says, keeping her face as pleasant as possible. The woman purses her lips, clearly in thought. Silence washes over them until it's broken by the woman.

"Thank you. Not many humans would show kindness to elves, much less two so well trained in fighting."

Visenya snorts, a smirk appearing on her face.

"One human and a mutant, actually. But you're welcome. What good is all the fighting talent in the world if you don't use it well," Visenya says, slowly standing from the ground? The woman's eyes follow her form as she stands to her full height. "Our horse is near the road. We can take you wherever home is, and make sure you get there safe."

The woman nods, adjusting her son in her arms so that he is lying across her lap. With Visenya's help, she stands from the ground, holding her son's bridal style. Her two other children stay close, hiding a bit behind her, each one with a hand attached to her dress. Visenya turns, eager to leave the clearing and forget any of this happened, but the woman stopped her.

"I've already lost Aldon, my husband. I could not lose my son too, I truly appreciate what you have and are doing for us."

"I wouldn't speak so soon," Geralt's gravelly voice enters the conversation. They both turn to see him kneeling beside the body, two fingers against his neck. "He's fading, but he hasn't died yet."

Visenya strides towards Geralt, the woman, still holding her son, hot on her trail while her two children stay in place, silently watching with wide eyes. Visenya sits beside Geralt as the woman nearly collapses on the other side of Aldon's body. She takes a hold of his hand, her grip so tight her fingers begin to turn white.

"Can we save him?" Visenya asks. Geralt grunts, gesturing with his head in the direction behind them. She nods, knowing what he's saying without having to physically say it. She stands and runs the way they came in. Her feet are heavy, beating into the soil and breaking any twigs or crunchy leaves. The world is a blur around her, wind rushing against her skin. They can save him, but only if Visenya can get the supplies back to Geralt in time.

Either by sheer dumb luck, or the gods truly have shown them favor, Roach is right where they left him. Visenya releases a heavy sigh as she beelines straight for her pack that hangs off of Roach.

"Good horse. I'm going to give you so many apples once we reach civilization," Visenya breathes out, untying her pack from his saddle. He neighs, happily it would seem. She smiles, patting his side a few times before turning and rushing into the forest once more.

Everyone is in the exact spots as when she left. Geralt is leaning over Aldon with his wife sitting on the other side of his body. She clutches his hand in hers, knuckles turning white from the tightness of her grip. Her lips are quivering with large eyes, her body shaking every few minutes, the stark contrast of Geralt. With thin lips, hard eyes, and unwavering hands as he cleans the wound to the best of his ability; he's the epitome of stone. Visenya runs towards them, tossing the bag at Geralt once she crosses halfway through the clearing. He catches it in his hand, flipping it open and rummaging through it. He pulls out various bottles; some with powders, liquids, herbs: both brushed and whole, and bandages.

Visenya slows her pace, moving around Aldon to sit beside his wife. She glances at Visenya for a moment before looking back at her husband. She;'s breathing heavily, the sharp intakes of breath sporadic. A hiccup escapes her mouth every few seconds, eyes on her husband, waiting and hoping for any signs of recovering. Hand on the grass, it moves over until it brushes against her free hand. She doesn't look away from her husband, but she takes Visenya's hand, her cold body instantly feeling warmer from Visenya's proximity. It provides comfort, a sense of reassurance that Geralt knows what he's doing. That her husband will make it out of the mess, and this day won't become a travesty that's burned in her mind.

Geralt works quickly, each minute passing in a blur. He tears strips of bandages off with his teeth, the tearing sound from it enough to keep Visenya from getting lost in her thoughts. He wipes away the blood with a cloth, pouring a liquid that smells suspiciously like alcohol over the wound. It hisses upon contact but the noise swiftly dissipates. He then grabs one of the vials that contain a thick liquid. It's amber, with various herbs and other ingredients slightly discoloring it. He packs it into the wound, laying down multiple thick layers of the poultice. He then lifts the torso of the man just enough to wrap his torso in bandages. With her only free hand, Visenya helps him keep the body off the ground, mutely watching Geralt work.

Finally, Geralt sighs, removing his hands from the body, the two of them gently lowering him to once again lay on the ground. Blood is no longer gushing from the wound on the side of his body, unable to seep through the dense layers above it.

"They were pricks, but luckily they weren't skilled pricks. He would've bled out, but it wasn't a fatal blow. When he wakes he'll be weak, but alive," Geralt mutters. Visenya sighs, eyes moving to the elven woman. She removes her hand from Visenya's grip, moving her child off of her lap. Visenya immediately places hands on the small boy, taking him from his mother and cradling him. The woman cries out in relief, hovering over Aldon's body and placing a hand on his cheek.

She looks down at the boy in her arms, noticing the way his eyes twitch under his lids. He's dreaming, it seems. And from the small grin on his face, it's a good one. A soft smile forms on Visenya's face, wide eyes watching the boy, her breathing matching his. A familiar tingling sensation runs up her spine. She glances up, seeing Geralt's gaze firmly on her. She smiles, and he returns it. They've done it, managed to save an innocent family, keeping them from being torn apart by stick bastards with pointy sticks. It's...nice.

"We probably shouldn't move him too much in fear of disturbing his wounds. How far are you from here?" Visenya asks, turning her attention back to the woman. She lifts her head, eyes moving from her husband to Visenya. They're wet with tears again, but not tears of sorrow or fear. This time they're from an overwhelming feeling of joy and hope she didn't have moments ago.

"It's a short distance, we live just on the outskirts of Brunwich," she says. Visenya nods, opening her mouth but Geralt speaks before her.

"We just left," Geralt says.

"And we can turn back around," Visenya interjects, looking at Geralt with a stony expression; lips in a firm line and eyes daring him to contradict her. She clutches the child closer to her, not willing to let them go just yet. They need to be safe and back home, and Visenya needs to see it with her own eyes. Otherwise, her consciousness will never be sated. And Geralt gleans this, causing a sigh to leave his lips, not bothering to start an argument he knows he wouldn't win.

"We can," he concedes, voice lacking any form of enthusiasm or conviction in his words.

"Excellent." Visenya returns her attention to the woman. "Since his injuries are the most delicate, your husband can ride on Roach, and you can ride with him. I can hold your son, but would your two other children be okay to walk? I'm not sure they'd fit on Roach."

"They won't. We should camp here for the day until he's conscious and well enough to ride," Geralt says. Visenya nods and looks at the woman for confirmation, who nods as well.

"In that case, I will get Roach," Visenya says. She begins to adjust the boy in her lap to give him back to his mother, but she stands from the ground.

"I'll come with you," she says. Visenya nods, standing from the ground as well. She walks around Aldon, to stand beside Geralt. She gestures with her chin down at the child. Geralt opens his arms, reluctantly. She places the boy in his arms, and turns, dusting off any dirt that clings to her armor. Visenya nods at her and the two of them exit the clearing.

The air around them is quiet. They neither speak nor acknowledge each other. Occasionally Visenya glances at her out of the corner of her eyes, and she catches the woman doing the same thing. It's almost like two wolves dancing around each other, trying to figure out how to approach the other. It isn't hostile, neither of them having any obvious tension. It's just….silent.

The woods are as gloomy as before; a cold chill sweeping through the air with dead trees and crunching leaves in shades of brown coloring their world. Yet everything somehow feels lighter, less dull, and grey. Visenya feels weightless, the adrenaline from the battle still lingering in her veins and the rush from saving innocent lives giving a small skip in her step.

"I am Amaria," the woman -- Amaria says, making the first move. Visenya nods, continuing to look straight ahead.

"I am Amaria," the woman, Amaria, says. Her voice is louder than she's heard it, yet the only other times she spoke was during great distress. There's a melodic tone to it, each word slightly flowing together like the lyrics of a song. Visenya nods her head, staring straight ahead.

"Visenya." Leaves crunch under her boots, matching the pace of her heart, and the distant song that lingers in the back of her mind. It's been too long since she's heard music - and not just the drunken yodeling of tavern goers. She misses music and singing that are enjoyable to listen to. She misses the small tunes and fumbling lyrics that Jaskier always sang throughout the days. Everything is too silent now, and she finds herself trying to fill the silence the way he did.

"That's a beautiful name," Amaria remarks, stepping over an overly large root. Visenya smiles, glancing over at her. She's only the second person to call her Visenya. It's relieving...finally able to take ownership of her own name once again.

"Thank you, it's a family name." Amaria nods, falling silent once more, and unlike moments prior, this silence is not an easy one. Nerves fill Visenya, the uncertainty of what to say - if she should say anything at all overwhelming. She mulls over it for another moment, before just opening her mouth and hoping to not offend.

"What are your children named?" Visenya asks.

"Rohir is my oldest at seven, he's the one you helped. Then there's Elana, she's only four and my youngest is Vyron, he's only two," Amaria says, a wide smile appearing on her face as she thinks about her children. Visenya watches her with keen eyes, a pang of envy stabbing into her, a piece of her longing to know the feeling of having a family that's all your own.

"They're beautiful," Visenya says, tightly nodding her head. She drums her fingers against the side of her leg.

"Do you have any?" Amaria asks. She's seemingly unaware or unconcerned by the awkward air that surrounds Visenya. But it's nothing new, she's never been the best with people. Constantly being around such loud people like Jaskier, or quiet and reclusive people like Geralt, she never notices. But now, walking in the forest alone with Amaria, she can't help but notice how extremely difficult something as simple as conversation is.

"No," Visenya says, crouching to avoid smacking into a low hanging group of branches. Amaria nods, and then sighs. Her face scrunches into discomfort; pursuing her lips with eyes that are narrowed slightly.

"Sorry, I should not have asked. I'm sure Witcher mutations make conceiving a child near impossible," she says, her voice sympathetic and apologetic. Absentmindedly Visenya nods, only a moment later, fully processing the words.

"Wait what?" Visenya stops in her tracks, turning to face Amaria. Her mouth is agape and eyes wide, ashen brows furrow in confusion with lines on her forehead. She continues a few steps before realizing Visenya is no longer walking with her. She stops as well, turning around and facing Visenya.

"You and the Witcher. Aren't you two..." Amaria trails off. Visenya's cheeks are bombarded with heat that makes her skin bright red. There's a funny feeling in her stomach, tingles rushing up her spine. The thought of her and Geralt together isn't unpleasant, and that's the worst part. She almost enjoys the idea. But she quickly sweeps that away, her and Geralt having children would be disastrous, not that he probably could.

"Geralt and I are not...together," Visenya says, tone more frantic than she intended.

"Oh, I just thought maybe…"

"Well, you thought wrong," Visenya says, the words harsher than she intended for it to be. She releases a sigh of frustration, watching Amaria jump, slowly taking one step back from Visenya. Quickly, she crumbles back into the scared rabbit she was when Visenya first saw her. The familiar look in her eyes quickly snaps Visenya out of her frustration. Guild replaces her bubbling temper, immediately dousing out any annoyance in her voice.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh," Visenya says. Amaria nods, frown curling into a small smile. "Please, forgive me."

"You are forgiven. I should not have made such assumptions," Amaria says. She steps closer towards Visenya, a non-verbal sign that she doesn't hold any fear for her. Visenya smiles at her, and the two of them continue walking once more. Silence cloaking them in its aura for the rest of their walk, neither speaking even upon reaching Roach and bringing his back to Geralt and her family.

oOo

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#geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the last dragon #house targaryen #targaryen!oc #Geralt #GAME OF THRONES CROSSOVER #the witcher crossover #geralt fanfiction

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