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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years ago

Photo

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

Text

Stare Enough

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 4034

Summary: Bucky's got a new stare. Sam spends all afternoon and most of the evening working up the courage to meet it.

Both Sam and the food are the main attraction at this party and the problem with that situation is that it takes so damn long for one main attraction to get a second to enjoy the other.

He’s grateful—god, is he grateful—for the turnout. Friends, neighbours, the kind of people he and Sarah call family without there being any actual relation by blood, they’ve all shown up. Since the Blip, Sam’s felt like he’s always around, but this feels like a real homecoming. No sadness, nothing bittersweet. It’s a celebration and he’s at the center of it. Him and the food.

At last, Sam’s done the circuit with his plate, spooning creamy salads and grilled vegetables, stacking shellfish pink as a sunrise. There’s a fresh-baked roll perched atop a scoop of sweet potatoes and caramelized onions that smells so fucking warm and mouth-watering he has to resist walking with his nose buried in it. He collects a set of utensils furled in the middle of a paper napkin (courtesy of an efficient assembly line of old ladies, chatting and twisting neat rolls of cutlery), plate bowing into the palm of his other hand, and that’s when his damn phone vibrates in his pocket.

Sam halts and makes a sound of frustration. Nobody’s come to this thing empty-handed, so there are dishes crowding the surface of the tables, no place to set his plate down. His phone vibrates again. A teenager comes up to peruse the spread in front of him and Sam sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.

“Here,” he says heavily, offering up his beautifully arranged and wonderfully fragrant meal. The cob of corn shining with the butter he lovingly smeared over it nearly rolls over the edge. “You’re the luckiest kid in the world.”

Quickly, Sam turns away, sliding out his phone and bringing it to his ear. He doesn’t want to witness the boy digging in. His stomach growls as he greets Joaquin Torres.

“Sam,” Torres says. “Uh, I mean, sir. Mr. Captain Am… Captain Wil—”

“Take it easy,” Sam laughs. “You know me, Torres. Don’t get starstruck now.”

“Honestly, I never really got over you being the Falcon. Now that you’re Captain America… Apologies if it takes me a little while to be cool about it.” After a pause—taken while Torres attempts to become cool with Sam being Captain America, Sam assumes—he asks, “You celebrating?”

Not far from where Sam’s standing, there are two little girls singing along to their clapping game. At a table behind them, a trio of elderly gentlemen are arguing over which one of them it was that caught that 50-pound snapper off the dock back in 1978. There’s a sear of meat and fish being rotated onto and off of the grill and, bouncing over everything, music from a speaker someplace.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a broad grin. “Yeah, we are. I’d save you a plate, but I can’t even manage to hang onto my own.”

He doesn’t mention that Torres is responsible for that situation; he’s aware that, besides being a fan, the Lieutenant is a little bit infatuated with him. Sam’s trying to be gentle until the day he can respond to Torres with friendly smack-talk, the way he would Steve or Scott or Bucky. Maybe not exactly like he does with Bucky.

“Don’t worry about it,” Torres cheerfully insists. “I wasn’t calling for that, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something.”

“Alright. Let me just…”

Sam strides away from the heart of the party towards the water, seeking quiet. Kids dart in front of him and that’s nothing unusual, but when he follows them with his gaze, he sees they’re running towards Bucky. Bucky, who has his Vibranium arm extended and two kids dangling off it already, one of whom might be Sam’s nephew. Of course, Mr. Casual, Mr. Smiles, Mr. Social Butterfly, is carrying on a conversation like his arm isn’t being used as a jungle gym. A conversation with Sarah.

For just a moment, Sam stops in his tracks, considering whether he should go over there and break up any potential flirting. But then he watches them. Bucky’s just talking to her, not flicking his gaze up and down while he checks her out. And Sarah, she’s relaxed and smiling, totally at ease, like Bucky’s another member of their community. That makes him a friend. Family.

That’s one thought too far and Sam jerks himself into motion again, walking until he’d be swimming with another step.

“What’ve you got for me?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to watch as much of the coverage of the fight outside the GRC vote as I can, trying to get a sense of how they’re spinning Walker’s reappearance, the legacy of the Flag-Smashers now that Karli and her inner circle are gone… Anyway, there’s a lot of footage and you’re at the center of most of it.”

“Guess the new suit draws the eye. And the cameras.” It’s no surprise to Sam. Part of the job of being Captain America.

“Yeah, but…”

“What is it, Torres?”

“Bucky’s in the background a lot,” he explains in a voice that tells Sam there’s more Torres isn’t saying.

“Makes sense. He was in the thick of it as much as I was.”

“He’s there at the end too. When you were talking to the Senator about power and the common struggle. Man, that was a great speech. Do you think—”

“Torres. Please. The point.”

“Right, for sure, man. Bucky never takes his eyes off you.”

That flusters Sam for a second. He wasn’t expecting the blunt delivery, especially of those words. He squints down at the water where it’s lapping the side of the dock. He knew Bucky was there; they spoke right after, when Bucky tried to feed him that bullshit (and he knew it was bullshit at the time) about texting and missing the exact speech Torres is apparently still hung up on.

“So Bucky was actually listening to me,” Sam says carefully. “That’s a surprise, but it isn’t really the kind of thing that’s significant enough for you to bother notifying me about, is it?”

“I’d say that depends on what you consider significant.”

“Torres.”

“I know, but he’s not just listening! It’s how he’s looking at you!”

“Like he’s wishing I would wrap it up?” Oh, Sam remembers Bucky’s miracle from their session with Dr. Raynor.

“Like he’s totally into you! Major heart eyes. Sir,” Torres hastily adds.

And Sam should reprimand him for this. Calling with a trivial piece of information when he must know Sam’s already being very selective about which of the hundreds of recent calls (and it’d be more if more people had this number) he chooses to pick up. Calling to speculate on how Bucky was staring at Sam that night in New York.

“I don’t need to tell you this is gonna be one of those investigations we keep between you and me,” Sam states.

“For sure. I just thought maybe you’d wanna know.”

“Uh huh. You get any real news, you pass it along.”

“I will.”

Sam ends the call and turns. He looks to his right: the sparkling river. His left: his people, all the way down to the squirt with the glasses who’s hanging off a metal arm, and the man that arm belongs to.

He’s felt it, the way that Bucky stares. It’s not like it used to be though, when it irked Dr. Raynor at the police station in Baltimore, or confused Walker and Hoskins in the back of that jeep in Germany. This new stare of Bucky’s isn’t one Sam’s ever caught him doing. Bucky hasn’t quite let him. That’s actually how Sam noticed it was happening—Bucky would immediately glance away instead of leaving that dead expression on his face when Sam met his eye. Now that he has proof of it, proof he’s certain Torres would send him footage of in an instant if he asked, he’s scared to look.

Instead, he watches Bucky look at other people. Like Sarah. Like kids from the neighbourhood. His literal hangers-on disperse as Sam observes, scattered after Bucky leans towards them to say something. Sam sees half his smile and even that much has his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky weaves through the tables and standing groups, the dancers and the kids who’ve broken out a skipping rope. (After eating from that buffet? Kids are crazy. Gonna make themselves sick.)

Without thinking too hard about it, Sam returns to the noise and the smells, trailing Bucky with a stealthy eye on his ass in those jeans. There’s no friction here between him and everybody else Sam cares about, he can see that in every short, friendly exchange someone engages Bucky in as he walks. Things flow as smoothly as the butter oozing off the corn Sam reluctantly gave up. Clearly, they remember Bucky from when he was here helping with the boat. They respect him. They like him. They’ve gotten to that last thing faster than Sam has, which makes Sam feel a little embarrassed as well as a little overwhelmed by how much the two of them have actually been through. He’s seen Bucky as a mindless killer and it almost brings a genuine tear to his eye—here on this glorious day in front of all these folks—to see the dork who rushed out to get his hands on a copy of The Hobbit in 1937 return in his current form as the dork who’ll take a fake punch from AJ and blush over brazen old women telling him how handsome he is.

Bucky stares different? Well. Sam feels different about the staring.

Sam keeps his distance until Bucky reaches the food, then his stomach gurgles a reminder than he hasn’t eaten yet. No ass is nice enough to distract him from his meal. He sidles up beside him and Bucky seems unsurprised, not even glancing over.

“Anything important?” he asks.

“What?”

“Your phone call,” Bucky clarifies, adding a heap of glossy green beans to his plate. Damn, those are some of Sam’s favourite. Bucky better not take all of them. “They need us somewhere?”

“Oh. No.”

Bucky shoots him a suspicious look after this stilted response, but he doesn’t say anything until Sam grabs a plate of his own, hungry eyes roving the feast that’s diminishing now that people have started coming back for second helpings.

“Put that down,” Bucky instructs. He doesn’t wait; he takes the plate out of Sam’s hand and tosses it back towards the pile. Thankfully, the plates are made of paper.

“Buzz off, man,” Sam tells him, reaching for the plate again. “I’m starving.”

“I figured.”

Wait.

“That’s for me?” he guesses, gazing longingly at the plate Bucky’s preparing.

“Yep.”

When Sam doesn’t reply, Bucky pauses with the plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other and sighs.

“I didn’t want you to miss the good stuff. This party’s for you.”

“I think it might be for both of us.”

Bucky seems too self-conscious to say anything to that. He goes back to loading up Sam’s plate while Sam quietly feels his throat close up with emotion as he watches. He clears it gruffly.

“I woulda had to eat the cake you brought,” he jokes. “Pretty sure only the really little kids have eaten any. You know, people who don’t know better.”

“I was tryin’ to be a good guest.”

“I can’t believe you brought a store-bought cake,” Sam says, laughing as he grabs a set of cutlery for the second time and continuing to shuffle along next to Bucky.

“Have you ever seen me cook?”

“…No.”

“Exactly. Trust me, what I did was kinder.”

“If you say so.”

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky demands challengingly, turning to face him. “I do say so.”

Sam’s eyes go from the plate Bucky’s holding between them up to Bucky’s face. He’s close. And he’s got this look, this dancing look in his eyes that undercuts the shit out of the hard line of his eyebrows. Trying to seem all stern. All Sam can think for several seconds is that, if he just grabbed Bucky by the chain around his neck and hauled him forward, they’d never get the food stains out of their clothes. But their laundry would smell delicious.

He clears his throat.

“Then you better stay for a while.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up and he hands Sam the plate he’s prepared for him.

“I plan to.”

When Sam picks a table to sit at, he makes sure there’s enough room for Bucky too. When Bucky sits next to him, he sits so close that their thighs press together and claims that’s all the space there is. Bucky talks and laughs when other people at the table talk to him. He’s easily drawn into conversation now and Sam feels weirdly proud of having brought this great guy home to meet everybody, even if he’s not here like that. People tells stories about last week and last century interchangeably, one old smartass making Bucky howl with laughter when they toss out a memory of Little Sam Wilson streaking from his house to the river for a naked swim. This is the danger of welcoming Bucky into the community. Sam, suppressing a smile, doesn’t really mind.

Elbows up on the table so he can eat, talk, and gesture emphatically with his fork, Sam feels Bucky’s stare creeping up on him. Slow, like the sun slides across the landscape when the clouds blow past. Bucky didn’t make this food, but Sam can feel his satisfaction as he watches Sam accept what he provided. Feels like there are grasshoppers springing around in his stomach. He still has a roll on his plate, one side soaked in family-secret barbecue sauce, and he tears it in half. While the rest of their table are caught up in some story being boisterously told by overlapping voices, Sam turns to Bucky and wordlessly offers the bread, edges dimpled where he gripped to split it. They watch each other chew and Sam’s closed mouth is smiling.

Inevitably, somebody pulls Sam back into the conversation and he does his best to laugh and heckle, covering the fact that he wasn’t listening, that he dropped the thread. The voices rise and rise and fall like water slopping over the side of a bucket.

In the next quiet moment, Bucky inclines toward him slightly and says, “You wanna talk later?”

And Sam says, “Sure.”

The day feels long, long, long, and Sam’s face gets sore from smiling, tired from talking. He does not confess that to Bucky, who’s almost always at his side. Lights go on overhead and beers come out of coolers, leftover food packed up and redistributed among neighbours, small children with drooping eyelids toted home. At first, Sam thinks Bucky’s leaning into his side because he’s drained from so much socializing too, but when he meets his eye, he just sees an invitation.

“Where are you two goin’?” Sarah asks when they slink past her carrying a too-big Cass in her arms.

“Just walkin’,” Sam tells her.

“Gotta stretch our legs,” Bucky contributes.

She looks from Sam to Bucky and back, smiling knowingly.

“Uh huh,” Sarah says.

Sam grabs Bucky by the shoulder to turn him forcibly away from his sister’s insinuations and just… forgets to let his hand fall as they wander along the water. Bucky’s steps angle towards his until his arm’s bumping Sam’s side, Sam’s arm slung around his shoulders. Is this still the body language of a couple buddies on a warm Delacroix night? Is it now, when Sam drops his arm and brushes the back of his hand across Bucky’s?

They leave the party lights on the horizon with the lazily setting sun, scrabbling off the end of the dock and onto the riverbank. Sam reaches up to give Bucky a hand down, so he won’t step in the soft mud and sink to his ankles. Bucky clasps his hand firmly and jumps.

The sound of people drops off down here and the sound of wind in grass, frogs hiding between reeds, rises.

“Are there alligators in here?” Bucky wonders, scanning the river’s edge.

Sam laughs.

“For sure.”

“And you swam here when you were a kid?”

“Even then,” Sam boasts, puffing his chest out, “my courage was legendary.”

“Yeah, and your nudity. Is there anyone within a mile of here who hasn’t seen your bare ass?”

Their eye contact holds. Oh right. Sam breaks away with an awkward, hiccupping laugh, directing his gaze at the dirt.

“The gators haven’t gathered too close to the dock in decades,” he promises Bucky. He stares out at the undisturbed water, enjoying the sun on his face. “Got skittish of the boats. Most of ’em, anyway.”

“Consider me not entirely reassured.”

“You scared of a little Louisiana lizard, man? Didn’t you grow up with Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“Nah, that was after my time.”

“Damn, you’re old.”

Bucky snorts a laugh, refusing to look at him.

“You wanna take a dip?” Sam goads.

“No.”

But by the time Sam’s pulling his shirt over his head, Bucky’s peeling off his socks. Sam spares him a smile and keeps going, the ground soft underfoot. It could be like the few times they’ve changed in proximity to one another before, but it’s not. He senses Bucky’s eyes on him the whole time. Face hot, he takes a quick look in Bucky’s direction as he’s unzipping his jeans. His heart feels like his new suit—wings just waiting to unfurl.

When they’re down to their underwear, they wade in.

God, it feels nice. The water’s cool and the sun’s clinging to the horizon.

“Just don’t get any water in your mouth,” Sam instructs, then dunks his face and comes up squirting water at Bucky from between the gap in his front teeth, a trick he perfected as a kid. “That arm ain’t gonna rust, right?”

“You asked for this,” Bucky warns. He points a menacing finger and plunges below the surface.

Sam twists as he treads water, trying to see what’s going on down there, searching for a ripple or bubbles of released air. His legs move in twitchy kicks because that’s where he’s expecting Bucky to grab him. But the idiot is playing some kind of psychological game first, making Sam wait a full minute. Two minutes. Three.

He’s opening his mouth to call out Bucky’s name when he breaks the surface. Sam’s ready to swap the concern he was about to form into words into a taunt instead—did Bucky get down there and decide the scariest thing he could do was let Sam’s imagination take over?—until Bucky shakes his head and slicks his hair back. Then the words get caught in Sam’s throat and he just kinda stares.

“There was a really gross fish down there,” Bucky informs him. “Do you guys have eels there? Mighta been an eel. Maybe we should get out.”

“Alrighty, scaredy-cat, let’s get you to shore.”

Bucky propels himself out in front, arms moving in powerful strokes, and Sam’s hand darts out on instinct, fingers closing around Bucky’s hard calf muscle. Bucky jerks and Sam burst into loud laughter.

“Did you think that was an eel? Did you?”

“You’re lucky I…”

I’m lucky you what? Sam wants to ask when Bucky trails off, but he just swims after him.

During their game/possible eel panic (there’s no way it was an eel), they weren’t always fighting the current, so they’ve drifted downstream some. Bucky takes sloppy, sloshing steps out of the water, underwear that might’ve been light grey now dark and plastered to his ass. Sam feels like he’s choked on river water, though his mouth is dry. He lumbers out too and they begin the march back in the direction of the dock and their clothes. The water tickles as it runs down Sam’s legs; must be bugging Bucky too because he plucks his waistband away from his skin before letting it snap back. Clenching his jaw, Sam stops himself from trying to see too much.

This end of the dock is made of old boards before it transitions to pavement farther down, wood smooth on Sam’s feet when he and Bucky haul themselves up, dropping their collected clothes and shoes into a single pile. No point getting dressed until they’re dry, so they sit on the edge of the dock, feet swinging. Feels good. Feels home. They don’t speak until the sun’s set, the sky orange, then grey, then rich, velvety blue.

“You know, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly.

“Know?”

“Yeah, you know. Whenever you don’t know something, you talk and talk—”

“Sometimes I can work through a problem better if I vocalize,” Sam explains.

“But when you do know,” Bucky goes on, ignoring Sam’s input, “you’re quiet.” He looks at Sam. “You’re quiet.”

What else is Sam? Nervous. His skin’s prickling with it, and because even the warm air feels cold when he’s just climbed out of the river. There’s a wet patch spreading around him that he can barely see with evening rapidly deepening into night. He lifts a hand from the dock and sweeps it up his neck, brushing water droplets away.

Without glancing over, he says, “You’re doing that thing you do.”

“What?”

“Staring. That new stare you do.”

“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledges. A bird starts calling, the sound drifting in and away like the sway of a hypnotist’s watch and Bucky’s silent until it’s over. “Maybe I’m staring for the same reason you’re quiet.”

Sam waits. Bucky doesn’t add anything, so Sam turns to look at his face, hung with cool shadows.

“You’re not gonna say it, are you?”

“I thought you would say it,” Bucky argues defensively.

“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like that for a week. You should go first!”

“Please, you don’t even know how I’m staring at you, I only do it when you’re not looking.”

“Do it now then and see what happens,” Sam dares him.

“Fine.”

Just like that, Bucky locks in like Sam’s attention is the only handhold on a sheer cliffside. Vital and stable, a last chance, the one thing around him that wants to help him higher instead of watching him fall. A lot of that’s familiar from his regular hard stare, but then something opens up behind his eyes. Some fragile thing (that might be Bucky’s sense of caution) breaks. Suddenly, Sam’s seeing what Joaquin saw in the news footage and amateur cell phone video. Except he’s seeing it two feet in front of him. It’s intense. It makes the air a little harder to breathe.

Bucky’s lips curve into a smile, then part as he says, “I love—”

Hopefully, he wasn’t going to end that sentence with ‘store-bought cake,’ because Sam can’t really take back his reaction. The finger slipping behind Bucky’s ear as he cradles his face, the mouth sealed to his. Especially that. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back, just as hard, and then harder.

“Thank god,” Sam pants when they break apart.

“You interrupted me.”

“I got you to stop talking? Guess we’re in my miracle.”

“I’d complain…” Bucky shrugs. “…but your miracle is pretty nice.”

“Not bad, right?”

He sighs and looks out over the water. Bucky pushes up on his fists and sits closer, offering his hand for Sam to interlace their fingers.

“Hey,” Sam prompts when it hits him that it’s super dark outside and they aren’t gonna dry much more like this, “did you book a hotel room again?”

“You kiddin’ me? I spent all my money on that cake.”

Sam laughs.

“Right, well, I guess you need a place to stay tonight then.”

“You know anything nearby?” Bucky asks with a soft smile.

Getting to his feet and bracing to pull Bucky up after him, Sam uses his free hand to motion towards their clothing pile.

“Put your pants on,” he says, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Joaquin Torres #Sarah Wilson #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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winters-void · 4 years ago

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A Real Father

relationship: Geralt x OC! Daughter (or reader)

a/n: Requests are open! Thank you for reading!

warnings: abusive father (not geralt), minor character death, angst, fluff at the end, violence, mentions of blood.

_____

Geralt found his heart pounding in his ears. He watched as the Striga fell to the ground, shriveling up and dying. It had curled around itself in a fetal position, protecting itself in it's final moments. He realized sadly that there was no saving this cursed being, anyone who knew anything was dead or 100's of miles away and before he found answers this whole town would be dead. It had almost killed half of them anyways.He'd already been paid so he needed to finish the job. As his potion wore off and he felt his eyes return to normal, he heard whimpering coming from one of the rooms and looked around confused.

As he walked around a corner and into a corridor he heard a young girls cries get louder and louder each passing second. "Mama!" A young voice squeaked. He entered the room from which the cries were coming from. A young girl was sobbing over the body of a woman who was presumably the mother she was crying out for. "Mama wake up!"

Geralt slowly entered, trying to not startle the girl as much as possible. The girl heard him and turned around quickly. "Sir! Help my mama! The king made us come in here, please help!" " Even from where he stood he knew there was no helping this girls mother."Still, he knelt down on the other side of her body and felt for a pulse. Already knowing the answer he sighed looking at the girl.

"I'm sorry." Geralt told her watching as the young girls eyes grew larger and filled with more tears. That's when the floodgates broke and the girl began to wail. Despite being the mere age of 6 the girl knew what his tone of voice and choice of words meant. He put a gentle hand on the girls back and she fell into his arms. "Why did the king make you come here?"

"My mama stole some bread to feed us." The girl whimpered into his chest. "We haven't eaten in days and he punished us."

Geralt felt his blood boil. He knew the king of this place was a no good piece of shit. He took a deep breath before helping the girl to her feet. "Where's your father?"

"Please don't make me go to him." She spoke, visible fear appearing on her face. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and the girl visibly flinched. It was that moment he noticed how underneath all the dirt and grime on her skin were bruises ranging in various shades of purple. On her neck there was a scar going up to her cheek and down to her collar bone. It was a shiny pink meaning it was fairly new and healing. "Please." She whimpered.

He felt his shoulders tense up and he looked up at the sky taking in a deep breath. He knew he'd never let this girl go back to her father, based off of the condition she was in now; starving, bruised and smaller than the average six year old he'd just be sending her to her death. Especially with her mother dead, this girl was surely about to receive every beating her mother would get.

"I won't." He spoke gruffly. "We should bury your mother. Then we'll figure out what to do with you."

The young girl nodded wiping away a tear before looking towards her mother. She was bloody and had some organs missing. She closed her eyes knowing this image of her mother would be engraved in her mind forever. She had protected her daughter with her dying breath from this Striga. Part of her blamed herself for them being here in the first place. The young girl had been complaining about being hungry for a long time. In an act of desperation her mother stole a loaf of bread and block of cheese. They'd been caught and the King sent them to be food for the Striga.

"Can it be under a tree?" The girl sniffled. "She'd always tell me stories under trees."

"Sure." He grunted, he hoisted the girls mother into his arms gently holding her in a bridal carry and led the girl outside. Roach was tied to a tree branch, gently he set the girls mother down and hoisted the girl onto roach. "I'll bury her. Roach will keep you company"

"Thank you-" The girl paused realizing she didn't know this silver-haired mans name.

"Geralt." He told her and she nodded.

"I'm Rielah" She told him. "Thank you for burying her."

Geralt only nodded and picked up her mother once more. He went a little ways away to a suitable tree and buried the girls mother in a peaceful place, he gently lowered her into the ground and covered her back up with dirt before placing a yellow flower on top of the fresh grave. When he returned back to the girl she was petting Roach's mane lazily. Looking back at her, her pale skin was streaked with red from her tears and her hair was disheveled.

The road was no place for a child, but possibly he could find somewhere that would take good care of her somewhere along the way. For now though, he supposed she could stay with him.

____

If someone had told him nearly a decade ago that he would be taking care of a teenage girl he would have laughed in their face. But now, watching as Rielah pouted in the booth of the tavern they were staying at he realized that she was technically his responsibility and had been for quite a while. It was quite obvious that the young girl had grown on him over time, and he loved her as he would his own daughter.

"Stop that." He mumbled sitting down next to her with a drink in his hand. The girl only glared at him before turning to face the bar again.

"Stop what?" She asked coyly.

"Pouting." Geralt scolded and Rielah only huffed again. "You're staying at the inn while I hunt this Selkimore."

"Fine." Rielah spoke adjusting herself so that her back was facing him. Ever since they had arrived in this dreadful little village Rielah had been off. She was moody and irritable and didn't seem to want to be left alone for more than a minute.

Ever since the girl had joined him on his journeys he'd made it clear that she would be safer wherever they were as far away from the monsters he was fighting as possible. When she was little he did his best to find someone to take care of her but it was blatantly obvious the girl had become his daughter and he didn't trust anyone when it came to her wellbeing. He watched as she picked at the meal he bought her and he shook his head.

"May I go back to the room then?" She asked

"As long as you stay put." Geralt said nodding and by the time he got the words out she was gone and rushing to their room at the inn. "Teenagers."

Rielah looked over her shoulder as she opened the door to their room, making sure no one had followed her and holding the dagger Geralt had given her for emergencies close to her chest. When she was inside the room safely, she locked the door quickly- debating on whether or not to push something in front of it. She decided against it, realizing she didn't want Geralt to question her motives as to why. She knew she'd been acting odd since they got here but this was the place she was born. She didn't want to run into her father; she'd heard some of the townspeople mentioning his name in passing and felt her blood run cold.

Geralt knew she was from around this general area, they'd met in a rundown castle where the Striga resided and they traveled on from there never really discussing her past unless it was about her mother. Even that was rare though. Their relationship didn't offer much speaking, sure he spoke to her more than most but they were both quiet natured people so it worked out. Most of their communication existed by body language. A raised eyebrow typically asked if one was okay and a gentle hand on the back told the other they were there.

After drawing the blinds and doing all the other precautionary measures Geralt had instilled from a young age she sat down on the bed and waited for Geralt's return. She felt as if she wouldn't get much sleep this night and decided to read one of the novels they had picked up for her on their adventures. Geralt realized she would need some form of entertainment while he was away on his hunts and taught her to read. It was an easy way for her to pass the time.

Hours passed and Rielah set down her book bored. She knew she should go to bed but she didn't want to let down her guard down if Geralt wasn't there. Part of her felt like her father had been watching them ever since they arrived. The scars he had left on her both physically and mentally from when she was a child were still left littering her thoughts and skin. She heard the doorknob begin to twist and sat up straight. Logic told her it was just Geralt seeing as she had locked it and he had the only key, but fear told her it was her biological father.

The door opened, daylight seeping in behind it and Geralt stepped in covered in the guts of a Selkimore and she wrinkled her nose. "You've got something right-" She hesitated before gesturing to his body "everywhere actually, and you smell."

"Nice to see you too Rielah." Geralt said with a grunt before walking to the tub full of bathwater. She scrunched her nose once more and turned around to give him so privacy. "There's some Oren's in my pouch. Go get some food we can eat in between villages and whatever else you'd like. I'll meet you out when I'm clean."

Rielah nodded, gulping slightly. She hadn't been alone here without Geralt other than last night in the room. This was different though, being in the village would be putting her into a vulnerable position if she ran into her father. Grabbing Geralt's pouch out of the saddle bag she grabbed her black cloak and pulled up the hood over her head. She walked through the village, remaining as unnoticeable as possible until she found a man selling bread and cheeses.

"How much for two loafs?" She asked. Bread typically got them a long way on the road. They could pair it with meat Geralt hunted and eat it alone.

"10 Oren" The man grumbled and she fished it out of her pocket, not letting the man how much she actually had in case he tried to raise the prices. She took the loafs of her choosing and handed the man the money. He took it and shoved it into his own pocket.

Turning around she noticed a woman selling some clothes. She thought back to Geralt coming back drenched in the Selkimore guts and blood and decided he'd probably need a new shirt. She saw a black long sleeve shirt and decided that one would do. Next to it she saw a handmade necklace with a purple stone attached to it. She knew she'd never be able to afford it but it was pretty to look at.

"It's a pretty gem." A man said from beside her causing her to jump.

"Yes, it is." She said backing away cautiously.

"Suitable for a girl like you." The man spoke. "Maybe to draw attention away from that ugly scar Rielah." Her blood ran cold at the usage of her name and her eyes grew wide. Geralt was the only one who should know her name here. She tried not to show it, but she was petrified. There was no need to guess who this man was, it was her father. The man she'd been doing her best to avoid. "I've been waiting for you to show your face. Without that dastardly Witcher."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." She told him playing dumb attempting to make her voice sound as normal and unwavering as possible. "I really should be on my way my f-"

"Your father?" He sneered coldly. "You're right I have been looking for you. Ever since you ran off a decade ago you little shit. It's time you return home."

The man grabbed her wrist and jerked it harshly. At that moment, the hood of her cloak fell off revealing her face. More importantly though, it revealed the scar he had left many years ago. It had healed nicely over the years but there was still a thin white line from the mark he had made. Looking at the girls face and the fear showing in her hazel eyes. She felt herself retreating to the tiny young child terrified of her father. The one before Geralt; who taught her that a father is supposed to love their daughter unconditionally even when they make it hard. Not beat them for no reason.

"Sir-" Rielah spoke trying to jerk her hand away from her father only for his grip to get tighter. "I really must get going."

"Theres really no denying it now Rielah." The man sneered. She didn't even know her fathers name. What kind of a father did that make him? "You've been gone for a long time, but I'd know that scar from anywhere. I oughta give you another one for being away for so long with that damn Witcher."

"Rielah!" A deep voice called out and her head whipped around, golden tufts of hair getting in her face as she noticed Geralt making his way through the crowd.

"Geralt!" She shrieked watching as he looked back and forth for the teenager. "Daddy!"

That was enough to get Geralt's heart pounding in his ears. The girl he cared for was shrieking his name in fear. Pushing through the crowd he spotted her golden hair, getting closer he noticed a man holding her wrist in a death grip.

"Quiet girl." He heard the man grunt as he tried to get her to budge and walk.

He reached around to his back where his sword was kept and drew it upon the man. "Get your hands off of her."

Noticing the sword, Rielah's birth father let go of her hand and she let tears fall as she ran behind her true father; Geralt who ushered her directly behind him.

"I believe you have what's mine Witcher" The man sneered. "You took my daughter from me, cost me nearly a fortune to replace her hands at the fields. I bet you killed my wife too."

"Your wife was killed protecting Rielah, who is no longer your daughter and hasn't been since the moment you first laid a hand on her." Geralt gritted out. "If all you're worried about is the profit she can bring you in the fields you're a sorry excuse of a father." Geralt said pressing his sword closer to the man's neck. "She's been my daughter for the past decade, and if you lay a hand on her ever again it will be the last time you touch anything." The man glared at her from her place behind the silver-haired Witcher and she shuddered underneath his gaze. "I suggest you move along."

Spitting on the pair, Rielah's father turned around and walked off and Rielah let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "So that's why you wanted to come on the hunt. This is your home."

Guiltily, Rielah nodded and Geralt clasped a hand on her shoulder. "I wanted to tell you, but-"

"You don't need to explain yourself little one." Geralt said fixing the girls cloak and stroking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I see no need to return to this disgusting place anyways."

"Thank you Geralt." She said wrapping him in a hug. Rarely did they ever show physical affection to another but she felt like a hug was in order. Geralt was tense but eventually let down his guard and hugged the girl back."You've always been my father."

"You've been my daughter for a long time Rielah," He told her as they began to walk to Roach. He helped her up before getting on behind her. "That man has never been your father, and I'll never hesitate to protect you and I sure as hell will never lay a hand on you."

She nodded, grabbing Roach's reigns and leaning back against Geralt to steady herself as they left the girls hometown. As they left, she didn't look back once knowing that place was never her home. Her home had always been on the road with Geralt and Roach. He'd always been her father. He'd been the one to raise her, teach her, feed her. Everything about him was what a father should be doing for their daughter.

"I love you Geralt." She whispered quietly.

"Hmmm." He grunted refraining towards their usual silence on the road. She knew that was his way of saying it back, it was their language. He knew her better than she knew herself at times. She stared at the road ahead, wondering where it would take them next.

#geralt of rivia #geralt fic #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x oc #the witcher #The Witcher fic #The Witcher fanfic #The Witcher x reader #fanfic #oc tag #OC fic #geralt x daughter! reader

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k-s-morgan · 5 years ago

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I'm a Reddit lurker, no account, and since the Netflix update am posts daily here and in reddit. A recent post on S3 caught my attention. Don't you feel that in S3 Hannibal's struggle at 'moving on' in Italy was far more intense that Will's? I agree with that poster that Will looked ok - readily gets married.. wife, kid. There were subtle things, true not touching, weak communication but he could have carried on fine. I didn't see him suffering the way Hannibal was. And felt angry at him.

Hello! Oh, I definitely agree that Will is frustrating to the point of being maddening. I think it goes back to his versus Hannibal's ways of expressing emotions. Will's been spending the majority of his life in denial in several respects at once, and his feelings for Hannibal is something he struggles with displaying. However, I think we still see enough of his struggles, and I don't believe he would ever succeed in carrying on without Hannibal indefinitely.

Will's journey is divided into 2 parts in S3: post-Mizumono and post-Digestivo.

Post-Mizumono

In the first part, Will is operating under the knowledge that Hannibal loves him, and his emotions come to the surface more openly. He can't and doesn't want to move on: the first thing he does upon waking up is voicing his pain at Hannibal leaving him to die, then berating himself for lying to him, then realizing Hannibal left him alive deliberately and that he wants to be found. Will begins to analyze their conversations and quickly figures out where he should go to look for him. After being released from the hospital, he starts building a boat to travel to Hannibal by sea. The nature of this action is romantic by itself - also, this scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. He openly admits to Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal.

Similarly, Will spends some time sitting in Hannibal's empty house. When Alana tries to reach out for him, he rejects her soundly and asks her to leave. He basically admits that he still loves Hannibal in their conversation, telling Alana about their pact of ignoring "the worst in one another in order to continue enjoying the best." These instances show that Will is pining hard, that his feelings are so intense that he no longer even bothers to hide them from Alana and Jack. The whole E2 is Will's love letter to Hannibal - he's reverent about him, he thinks about him non-stop, and he tries to find him very hard, even literally chasing him down. He even lies at the place where Hannibal left him his "broken heart," as if needing closer physical contact.

Things begin to shift as Will meets Chiyoh. It deserves a separate meta, but I feel like Will starts drawing comparisons between them and comes to a conclusion that Hannibal doesn't love him after all. That if he abandoned Chiyoh, whom he was supposed to love, so easily, for so many years, without bothering to return to her, then maybe he's just not capable of love. Seeing Bedelia as his replacement just reinforced this idea, so Will returned to his bitter and vengeful state, hence his attempt with a knife in Dolce. The end of Dolce and the whole Digestivo put Will through hell, and by the end of it, he's absolutely done. A big part of him doesn't believe Hannibal loves him, and at this point, he's no longer motivated to find out whether it's so. Will of Digestivo is a huge contrast to Will as he was in Primavera: the hope, the glow are gone, he retreats into his shell again.

Post-Digestivo

Fast forward 3 years and Will is still a shell. He might be married, he might share some lovely moments and jokes with Molly, but he's not happy. The first time we see their family, they are apart - and not just apart, Molly and Walter are actually fishing, something Will loves, while Will chose to stay alone and brood. Jack comes to find him and that's where everything starts.

First, let's consider the fact that Will didn't hide away from Jack even though he could. If he truly wanted the old life to be over, he'd have moved somewhere where neither Jack nor the FBI would be able to find him, cutting all ties. He could do it. Instead, he remained more or less visible. Instead of kicking Jack out, Will allows him to share the details about the case with him despite his half-hearted protests. Will is not a malleable person who's easily subdued or intimidated: he might go with the flow because he finds it more comfortable, but he's more than capable of sending someone to hell, especially now. This Will is the one who lied to Jack repeatedly, who chose to beat a man almost to death instead of shooting him, who mutilated his body and ate it, using his suit as a trophy. This Will chose Hannibal over everyone else, ignored the fact that people like Jack and Alana suffered and forgave him, hinted to Pazzi that he might join Hannibal in killing him, coldly set up Chiyoh to kill or be killed, made a display from the body of a person who might have been innocent, for all he knew, and so on. So, this Will was fully capable of laughing in Jack's face and telling him to leave. He doesn’t do it.

More than that, Will told Jack to not show photos to Molly and then somehow ended up having him for dinner with them. In the middle of it, he conveniently gets up to follow Walter outside, leaving Molly and Jack alone. Like... come on. Will knew perfectly well what Jack was going to do. He *wanted* him to do it because he wanted to go. He was bored with this fake life, he "craved change", like Hannibal tells him later. Will manipulated the situation from the start, though how conscious this manipulation was remains ambiguous.

He lies to Jack about having to see Hannibal to restore his mindset even though we saw how perfectly he recreated everything just a few scenes ago. Will didn't bother to wait even for a week, he demanded a meeting with Hannibal right away. This betrays his impatience and his longing. Soon after that, he hunts Bedelia down and verbally attacks her. He's openly jealous and he's trying to establish what relationship she shared with Hannibal. "Is Hannibal in love with me?" is a very important question for Will because here, he finally admits to himself once and for all that yes, Hannibal does love him, that he (Will) does have complete influence over him.

So, these three years was Will taking a break from wondering about Hannibal's feelings, their history, and trying to pretend to live a normal life for the last time. A part of Will had to know it was doomed to fail, but he still gave it a half-hearted attempt. He wasn't okay, though, and based on everything, I'd say he was getting close to snapping again. Maybe he'd live with his family for several more years, but the boredom would get to him eventually, and the longing to finally figure out whether Hannibal loves him or not, the need to be his true self and Become would drive him back into Hannibal's world.

We don't see the intensity of Will's suffering for the most part because we almost never saw him in any other state, so we find it familiar. He lived his whole life surrounded by lies, denial, and self-hatred. He's used to not being happy and complete. He was most open in the post-Mizumono period because he allowed himself to hope for something then. In all other instances, he's stiff and very reserved.

I'm annoyed at Will as well because his inability to decide on something and the whole miscommunication thing start to drive me crazy in S3, but I understand his conflict and I accept that he and Hannibal have very different ways of showing their feelings. I do hope that if there is S4, we'll get to see Will appreciate and love Hannibal more openly. Happy Will should be a big contrast to every other state we’ve seen him in.

#hannibal #will graham #hannigram

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nelllraiser · 4 years ago

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hey there demons it’s me, ya boi | connor & nell

TIMING: present. LOCATION: nell’s greenhouse. PARTIES: @connorspiracy and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: connor meets with nell for some demon talk, but gets a little more than was expected.

Ever since the coven had excommunicated Nell and her sisters, she saw no particular reason to be as secretive about her dealings with demons as she once had been. Of course, she wasn’t going to shout it from the mountaintops, but if someone was already in on the supernatural and wasn’t a threat, the witch saw no need to hide her knowledge. Who knew, maybe if more people knew about her familiarity with demons, less of them would mess with her and her family. As for Connor, she didn’t see any harm in discussing demons with an exorcist. Besides, it’d be interesting to see if he had any things to share of his own. She’d met the young man at the perimeter of the property, knowing that the reanimated corpse that Bea brought to life wouldn’t be happy if an unknown person entered the premises without the escort of a Vural. “Hey!” she waved an arm in greeting, waiting to lead Connor towards her greenhouse. “Are you ready to see the lair of demons?” Her tone was joking, obviously having nothing of the sort. Well...she supposed Greg’s doghouse might be considered a lair, but there was only one demon in there. Not demons, plural.

Connor followed the directions to Nell’s home, examining it from the outside. It was nice. Spacious, modern but with a woodsy kind of feel, well-maintained. He parked his car at the front, following her inside. “Lair of demons. Great band name,” he teased with a crooked smirk, following her to the greenhouse. “You know I feel like, as an exorcist, I’m supposed to be super against this, but I have loads to learn about demonology still…” Connor was no stranger to doing things he wasn’t exactly supposed to. The whole concept of a YouTube exorcist was enough to put the community on-edge. Might as well go and talk to the girl who kept demons in her back garden. “So is it like a butterfly room, but a greenhouse full of demons?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I’ve got dibs on it,” Nell instantly teased back with her own smirk-like grin. “I’m glad you found the place, though.” Sometimes it was hard for people to navigate the Outskirts, especially if they weren’t White Crest natives. “I mean, you can make your own rules, can’t you?” There was an air of levity to the words, as if she may or may not be serious on the matter. But in the end, who was to say what the rules were for magic? Ghost or otherwise? Her newly estranged coven had tried their hand at that, and failed spectacularly in her eyes. “And it’s always good to have the knowledge, isn’t it? But you said you’ve met a couple demons or so?” she asked as she swung open the door of the greenhouse, it opening to her specific touch on the door handle. As they entered, the plants were as ordinary as any other greenhouse, flowering and flourishing in abundance. It was only as you went deeper that more supernatural things began to pop up. “Oh yeah, this is where I keep all the flying ones,” she joked easily, wondering how much he might believe such a claim.

“You can keep it,” he snickered. Connor had his brand name anyway. The dumb name he’d come up with for his youtube account when he was a teenager. It was a little silly, but he liked it. He could feel the magic in the air around them. There was something intangible about the place, something in addition to the actual, physical demons. He turned his head as a lanky old man with grey skin and dead eyes walked past, not even looking at him. He stared curiously as the man walked away, doing slow laps around the house. “Flying monkeys, like the Wizard of Oz?” Now that would be something. “I mean, I specialise in ghosts. I’ve met a demon or two though.” Like, the total beginner versions, but there was no need to advertise that fact. “What are you, some kind of demonologist?”

“Good, because I would have kicked your butt for it,” Nell continued to joke, no actual threat in her tone and voice. As Bea’s reanimated corpse, Corpsey, walked by— Nell tried to pay him no mind. Maybe if she didn’t say anything about him, Connor wouldn’t either. After all, she hadn’t expressly told him that she was a witch. Of course, all the demon talk wasn’t exactly something that spoke of a regular human, and her familiar in the form of an Ovinikk named Taki letting himself into the greenhouse wasn’t exactly...normal cat behaviour. But she was happy to ignore that all for the moment. Still, she couldn’t resist poking some fun within the confines of his Wizard of Oz analogy. “Exactly like the Wizard of Oz. I’m actually the Wicked Witch of the West. My green skin’s just hidden under some body paint at the moment. Don’t look at me too closely,” she teased. “But okay, what kinds of demons?” As for whether or not she was a demonologist… Nell shrugged as a part of her answer. “I just know a lot about demons is all.”

Kicking Connor’s butt wouldn’t have been hard. He preferred to talk his way out of situations, but he opted not to say anything about it, his eyes instead following the wrinkly-skinned old man as he walked the perimeter of the property. “Oh, um…” He took a moment to answer her question, having to tear his eyes away from the corpse-man and the weird cat. “A few basic ones. Bannik, Badalisc, Alp, and then just the basic non-specific kind, but not that powerful.” Since she’d asked a more leading question, he wasn’t going to outright lie about his prowess. In the days of pulling receipts, he knew it would just bite him in the arse later. “You have a dog?” he asked, eyes drawn to the kennel. “Can I pet him?”

Nell tried to keep her expression neutral as she did her best to mentally shoo Corpsey away. Get out of here, old man! Go be a knock off zombie somewhere else! Of course, it was no use. He couldn’t hear her, and even if he could, he wouldn’t care. After all, since Bea was the one who raised him, she was the one he took orders from. She had to tell Connor something, though. The walking corpse could possibly pass a human, but there was certainly something...off about him to the naked eye. “Oh, don’t worry about him- that’s just Uncle…” Uncle who? “-Cory.” Cory and Corpsey. Good enough. “He’s harmless, but nosy. Probably just wondering why I invited a guy into the greenhouse. He’s a little overprotective,” she added with a light chuckle, and the slightest air of flirtation. Maybe that’d be enough to distract Connor. “But nice! Thankfully those guys don’t usually cause actual death. Were you here when giant Cthulhu Squidward wanted to make the town his own personal Hellscape, though?” She followed his gaze towards Greg’s wooden and spacious doghouse that was just a stone’s throw outside her greenhouse. “Uhhhhh,” she hesitated, deciding how much she should tell Connor. “Well that is actually home to one of the demons,” she finished with a chuckle, figuring telling him about Greg couldn’t hurt. “He prefers eating hands over being pet by them in the beginning.”

“Right,” Connor answered skeptically. “Uncle Cory.” Sure. Why not? Didn’t they all have uncles with grey, decaying skin who walked around in a daze? He gave a lighthearted snicker at her excuse, flashing her a grin. “What, so you don’t normally invite blokes over to the greenhouse? Should I be flattered?” As an exorcist, he was distrusting of demons, but not fully experienced enough to have seen the extent of the horror they could bring. Probably why he was not only inquisitive and curious about Nell’s life, but actually having fun. “No, I missed Squid-thing, and lobster-thing, and fish-rain thing. From what I know about this place though, it’s not long before something else crazy happens.” His gaze was still longingly on the kennel. “A demon dog?!” He was heartbroken. “So… no petting? That’s just cruel.”

“Exactly,” Nell replied brightly, trying to continue down the road of innocence as Connor repeated the name. It didn’t seem like he really bought it, but at least her attempts to draw his attention away from the corpse with a bit of a flirt seemed to be doing something. “I don’t know,” she teased back with her head coquettishly tilted to the side, a small smirk on her lips. “Do you want to be flattered?” So he hadn’t been here for the squid demon. That was probably for the best. After all, it hadn’t exactly been a fun time. “Damn, you really missed out. There was calamari for days by the end of it.” It was true what he said about White Crest, though. There was always something going on in the not-so-sleepy town. It was endearing how excited he seemed by the prospect of a demon dog, though. “Well...petting Greg probably isn’t the best idea just yet. But I have a different demon dog you could pet.” She rolled up one of her sleeves, revealing both the mottled, patchwork scars that covered the entirety of her arms as well as one of her sigil tattoos.

“I’m always flattered when I get compliments from a pretty girl,” Connor answered, his dumb, innocent charm somehow managing to make the line not entirely cringe-worthy. “Especially when she shows me her demons.” He scrunched up his face at the thought of the sky fish falling down around them. “Don’t reckon I’d want to eat that kind of calamari, or giant horse-sized lobster that tried to kill me, although, that would be a pretty sweet victory feast,” he teased. His eyes widened like a kid at Disneyland as the mentioned another demon dog. “Really? Where?” She started to pull up her sleeves. Oh no. It better not have been burned into her flesh or a Quirrel-Voldemort situation. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she was drawing attention to her tattoo. “What does that do? It looks mystical.”

The corners of Nell’s lips turned upwards in the beginnings of a smirk, amused that he’d somehow managed to pull off the line. “Well it looks like you’re on track for possibly getting more with an attitude like that. Careful though- I might think you’re just using me for my demons,” she finished playfully. A small chuckle was pulled from her before she moved on to talk of meals that may or may not have once tried to kill her and the inhabitants of the town. “That’s the point! It’s the best victory feast! What’s that line about revenge being a dish best served cold? This is revenge literally served as a dish.” Should she tell him about the magic now? Or just let him figure it out himself when three fully grown hellhounds sprang from her arm? The latter definitely had a larger possibility of having some laugh factor, so she opted for that. “It’s a sigil,” she replied with a twinkle in the corner of her eye. Then she was biting her thumb until it bled, and swiping it over the tattoo along with a few muttered words of Latin. Almost instantly, the three demon dogs formed from the magic, excited to have been Summoned.

Connor gave a little laugh. Nell was proving to be pretty good company. “Using you? Not at all. In fact I’d probably get a good belting from most other exorcists for not expelling them back to hell or whatever.” He waved his hands in a playful spooky motion as he spoke. “Call me old-fashioned, but I just don’t trust food that falls out of the sky.” His eyes widened as she bit down on her thumb, but he knew better than most that some rituals required blood. He usually just used a small knife rather than his teeth, though. He kept his eyes on her, watching carefully, and when the hounds appeared, he yelped, almost tripping over a watering can and some potted plants in his rush to get out of the way. This was it. This was how he died; mauled to death by hell-dogs in a greenhouse.

The coy air that Nell had been employing continued to hang around her as she gave the young man in front of her a sly smile. “Wow- you’re really putting yourself out there for me, aren’t you?” The words had an underlying tone of sarcasm as a means of teasing, knowing full well it wasn’t for her benefit. Then she shifted back into a more informative mode. “Yeah, some people call it hell. It’s sort of like...its own separate dimension for them. Like another world you can just yoink them from or yeet them back to. I can’t believe you’re so unwilling to live on life’s edge when it comes to sky food, though.” Had she eaten anything that came from the sky? Definitely not. But it was fun to joke about. The first thing the witch registered was some of her plants almost getting trampled, and a frown was quick to her lips. “Watch out!” she chastised disapprovingly. But then she noticed just how alarmed Connor was, and her hands were quick to come up in a calming motion. “Hey- hey! It’s alright! They’re not gonna hurt you!” As if to prove a point, the friendliest of the hounds, Scooby, padded forwards- considering Connor with a slightly cocked head, ears perked in his direction. “He’ll let you pet him, if you want.”

Connor didn’t scare easily. It was kind of a necessity to have a thick skin when you dealt with demons and spirits almost every day, but bloody hell, Nell had managed to scare the life out of him. “You’re lucky I’m wearing dark trousers,” he teased, finally letting himself laugh as the air seemed to return to his lungs. Now that he knew they weren’t about to play with him like a chew toy, they were actually kind of… cute. “Aw.” He approached, cautiously, hand outstretched. “Hello…” He’d definitely rather be petting a golden retriever, but this was good too. “Where did you get them? How does it work?” He cocked his head, looking over at her tattoo. “You owe me a really good story for almost making me shit my pants. Maybe even a drink. Or some dinner.” He smiled at her coyly.

Nell snickered a little at the mention of his trousers before saying, “Aww- was the big, bad exorcist a little frightened? Maybe my uncle was wrong to be worried about you in the greenhouse.” The words were meant in good fun, just as the rest of her teases had been. As Connor offered a hand, Scooby sniffed at it and eagerly nosed pressed to the palm of his hand as he searched the young man. “He’s looking for treats,” Nell clarified in a gentler voice, one that was generally reserved for the creatures she worked with. “There’s a jar next to you with some bits of meat in it if you wanna give them to him.” She wouldn’t say exactly what kind of meat it was. “I first Summoned Scooby- the one sniffing you- when I was sixteen. You know- with magic. He wasn’t nearly as wanting to be friendly back then but- he got used to me after I worked with him a lot. Then he brought his brothers along one day,” she said gesturing to the other two hounds. “This one’s Shaggy,” she said, pointing to the largest of the lot who was beginning to approach Connor as well, “and this is Scrappy.” The last of the hounds was positioned quite seriously next to Nell, considering the exorcist with an eye that seemed to be deciding whether he’d be a nice snack or not. In a moment her own flirting grin was back on her lips. “Well seeing as it wasn’t that great of a story…” she started, as if she were mulling the thought over. “I could maybe find the time for a drink.”

“I’ll have you know I’m neither big nor bad,” Connor chuckled, self-deprecating. Five-foot-eight accompanied by a slight build and a baby face didn’t exactly strike fear into most people’s hearts. The posh accent and floppy hair, neither. He tried not to piss himself while the hound sniffed at him, and followed Nell’s instructions, tossing him some treats, which got the others pretty interested in Connor too. “I knew there were witches and warlocks and stuff, but I’ve never seen one with… this.” He gestured to the creatures around them, and Uncle Corpsy as he made another pass around the greenhouse. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that this kind of power was both intriguing and attractive. “Well then, love, name the time and place.”

A chuckle fell from Nell as Connor joked at his own expense, and she could appreciate his ability to not take himself too seriously. “My mistake, I guess you just look taller in your videos,” she decided to poke a bit more fun at him. She hadn’t seen tons of them, but after he’d shown her his YouTube channel she’d been curious enough to watch some of the videos. They were interesting to say the least, especially since she didn’t know all that much about spirits or ghosts. Shaggy and Scooby were all too ready to accept treats from Connor, but Nell made sure that Scrappy stayed alongside her, scooping up some separate treats for the smallest of the hellhounds. He was generally the most aggressive, and she wasn’t keen on taking any chances at the moment. Her lips twitched into another smile as he mentioned witches, and nodded in confirmation of that word. “To be fair...Uncle Corbin isn’t mine.” The words were colored with amusement. Apparently the ‘uncle’ ruse hadn’t stuck. But she wouldn’t openly out her sisters that also lived here as witches. Most people simply assumed that the three of them were after finding out that one was a witch, but that was Bea’s and Luce’s business. But a time and place? The words made it sound like more of an actual date to Nell, and she wasn’t sure she wanted one of those. But she was probably overthinking it, and went with the first words out of her mouth. “Dell’s is always good. Or- actually, have you been to The Seven Selkies, yet? It’s got a fun supernatural crowd.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hard to tell how tall someone is when they’re in frame by themselves,” Connor snickered, pulling out his vape (probably bad form to smoke actual cigarettes in someone’s greenhouse). He gave her the kind of smile that said he didn’t exactly believe her when she talked about Uncle Corbin, but he wasn’t going to directly challenge her on it. “The Seven Selkies sounds great.”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #hey there demons it's me ya boi #ch:connor

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thorne93 · 5 years ago

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Unforeseen Chasm (Part 48)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:4613

Warnings: Language, last part that deals with Ultron movie, reader fights bff, mind control, widow protocol reactivated, song for this part: Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

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

Only two hours later, you got a call -- from Tony… This was either great news or really bad news.

“Hello?”

“You and Reindeer games busy?” he asked, his tone serious.

“No, why--”

“We’ve got a crack at Ultron, but we’re gonna need all hands on deck. I don’t like having to ask, but it may mean we can save Shannon. You in?”

“Of course, yeah, what do you need?”

“Be combat ready in five minutes. We’ll swing by to get you. We’re going to Sokovia, taking the fight to him.”

“Got it. We’ll be ready.”

You two hung up and you turned to Loki. “Get on your battle gear, we’re going to fight,” you informed.

He gave you a puzzled look but it quickly vanished when he followed your lead. He became clad in his old leather fighting gear, and you threw on the clothes Shannon had given you. A hooded robe, skin tight pants, and black t-shirt with boots.

The jet landed on the roof of your apartment and you two climbed in. No one gave you any warm looks, or nods of approval, except Clint. In fact, one face was new -- a dark red man, or… android? He had a stone in his head and he eyed you up and down with curiosity, and also… knowledge, as if he understood you. Suddenly, it dawned on you that he must’ve been what was in the cradle. Somehow, the Avengers gave him life, and trusted him enough to pit him against Ultron.

And clearly, the twins were now a part of this group, curiously enough. No one had taken the time to explain how or why they were here though.

Steve began his speech, and ultimately told you what your top priority was.

“Tony wants to take first stab at getting Ultron. The rest of us, our job is to evacuate the city. We find Shannon, we find what Ultron has been building, and we clear the field. Keep the fight between us. The people of Sokovia didn’t ask for this.” He took a moment to think, to pause. “Ultron thinks we’re monsters, that we’re what’s wrong with the world. This isn’t just about beating him. It’s about whether he’s right.”

And so it began. You landed just outside of the city, Wanda and Pietro got the civilians going, they began the evacuation and you tried to help, going to homes and apartments, encouraging people to leave. Letting them know the city was under attack. Clint found you and walked up to you as if he had something important.

“I’ve got the coordinates for Shannon, I figured you’d want to be the one to go get her. Take Banner with you in case it’s a trap.”

“What about the people?” you asked, frowning.

“We’ve got them. We’ll fight him. Go get her and then she can help us.”

“Thanks, Clint.”

He nodded. “Move your ass, kid.”

You smiled at him and ran off to find Shannon. She was in an abandoned church, where you dashed down the stairs, Banner right behind you.

“Shannon?” you whisper-yelled.

“I’m in here! He’s not here,” she replied making noises with some chain.

You immediately dashed over. “Oh thank God!” you said with a sigh of relief. “Hang on. Stand back,” you ordered. Shannon immediately backed up and you put your hand on the gate that divided you two. You charged the metal and blew it off the hinges. She ran out and hugged you tight.

“Hate to break this up, but we need to get back to the team,” Banner said from right behind you.

“You’re right,” you agreed, letting her go.

“Where are we headed and are people being evacuated?” She instantly got into Avenger’s mode. She started walking with you two through the way you entered. “What’s the situation right now?”

“City is being evacuated. There is some kind of core on the high ground, at the entrance of this church. We can’t tell what it’s going to do, but Ultron seems like he wants it,” you explained. “Tony’s going after him himself first.”

“Tony is doing what!? Is anyone else with him? Who told him it was okay to go on his own? He doesn’t know what Ultron is capable of.” She looked panicked and began scanning the area hoping to find the flying red suit of armor. “Give me a new mic to communicate with the team. I had mine taken by one of his bots.”

You fished one out of your suit and handed it to her.

“Thanks, Y/N. Alright, team it’s good to be back. Now give me an update. Cap, what’s going on?” Shannon flew off into the air to get a better look at things. “Tony, what is God's name are you doing trying to take on Ultron?” She turned to you and Bruce. Y/N, help the twins evacuate the civilians. Bruce, honey, I need my big guy to come out and help if you could.”

Bruce nodded and proceeded to remove his shirt and place it somewhere, turning to look at the two women, he winked at Shannon and began changing into the Hulk.

“Alright, big guy, go smash the robots,” she ordered the Hulk.

He smiled and ran off.

“I need to find out what he’s up to. Babe, what’s he hiding in the middle of town?” was all he said before it when quiet on his end.

“Damn it, Tony.” She shook her head and she flew back down to you. “Alright, Y/N, let’s go get ourselves a slice of this fight.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said with a firm nod.

“Shannon, it’s good to have you back. We’re in the middle of town, the twins are helping evacuate the people--” he got cut off while fighting a robot.

“The twins? As in the Maximoffs, they’re helping us now?”

“Yes they seem to have taken Clint’s words into consideration and have decided to help us,” Natasha responded from some other part of the town.

“Alright we’re heading over to the center and see if I can get any of the people out of there.” She flew back up into the air. “You’re welcome to join me or any of the other’s if you want, Y/N/N” Shannon waved at you to come up with her to the sky.

“I’ll go wherever you need me,” you responded into the coms. “Do we need combat or civilian evacuation? Someone tell me where you want me to go, and I’ll go.”

“Come give me a hand getting them on the carriers. I can only do so much with my arrows,” Clint says. “I’m near the hospital. There’s too many people to get evacuated from here.”

“On it,” you said quickly before launching off, using your powers to lift you off the ground. To your knowledge, Loki was fighting off robots near the church, using his illusions and tricks. Normally, you’d be worried for him, but a fight like this was nothing compared to battles he’d faced in Asgard. Not to mention, you couldn’t be your best self if you were too worried about him. So you put your faith in your beloved and found Clint. “You get the people on the boats,” you said before lifting your hands, your power extending from your fingers. The dark purple power electrified twenty bots at once, disabling them. “While I stay here and fight.”

Clint stared at you for a second, befuddled. “Looks like you’ve got it,” he said before running off.

You laughed slightly before going into battle mode, slinging robots with your power, charging nearby items and throwing them, electrifying anything flying above you.

After five minutes of fighting, all of the Avengers and you and Loki made it back to the main part of the church, asking Stark what the drill was. To this, he informed you the core was important. If Ultron got to it, it meant you lost. This was your ultimate mission now. All of you guarded it with your life, surrounding it, readying yourself for whatever Ultron had planned.

“Is that the best you can do?” Thor yelled as the last robot got destroyed by Hulk as he entered where the drill was located.

Ultron stopped trying to get close and in an instant called all his robots to where he was.

“You had to ask,” Steve remarked toward the god.

“This is the best I can do.” Ultron began saying, spreading his arms wide to show his army. He pointed to everyone around the drill, stopping right at Shannon. “This is exactly what I wanted, All of you against all of me.”

Shannon seemed to harden her gaze and began to walk towards Ultron and turned to face everyone else, her eyes were looking directly at you. There was something unreadable in her gaze. It confused you. You’d never seen that look on her face before.

“How can you possibly hope to stop me?” Ultron smirked, watching as everyone was confused as to why Shannon was moving away from them. “When your two strongest are going to fight head to head to survive.” He flicked his wrist and Shannon charged at you, completely emerged in the dark swirls of her powers.

Everyone was fighting off the robots as fast as they could to try and contain Shannon from doing damage to anyone.

Your eyes went wide as you tried to dodge her oncoming attack.

“Shannon, stop!” you screamed. Suddenly, deja vu hit you. You’d been here before, only before, it was Shannon begging you to stop attacking her and New York. You were brainwashed so what was making her… Suddenly it hit you… The Red Room. Her training had been a mixture of Natasha’s and the Winter Soldier’s. This would be hard to crack.

“Shan,” you begged, backing up, stopping your powers from attacking her. “Listen to me. You don’t want to do this. He’s in your head. Don’t let him win,” you pleaded. But she kept stepping towards you, forcing you to back up. You didn’t want to fight her. Not again. Why was everyone always trying to pit you two against each other?

Shannon kept quiet, only the slight grunt here and there from throwing her powers at you. Seeing as this was leading nowhere, she jumped and threw herself into you at full force, knocking the wind out of you. “Why won’t you fight me? Too scared because you’ll know I'll beat you?” She smirked and threw a punch after punch at your face, which hurt like hell. “You always were a pathetic little thing needing someone to keep you safe.” She laughed not even caring that she had gotten blood to come out of your mouth.

You closed your eyes in frustration before letting your body electrify itself, blasting her off of you. You stood up wearily. “Please… don’t do this.” You held your hands up, ready to defend yourself.

“Get up, Y/N.” Shannon stood up, not getting thrown too far. “GET UP!” She laughed. “What happened to us fighting to see who really was the strongest?” She ran towards you pushing you into the wall of the side of the church.

“I don't have anything to prove, Shannon,” you grunted, staring her down. You tried to push her off but she was just too strong.

“And why not? Aren’t you tired of living in everyone's shadow?” She kept pushing, causing the brick to crack around your body. “Show me those Asgardian powers of yours or are they really just those hat tricks your little Loki can do?”

Your eyes grew dark as you glared at her. “Tired of people thinking the wrong things,” you said with a huff before finally pulling some power. You put your hand on the bricks beside you, charging all of them and blasting the wall at her, effectively getting her off of you, but that was it. It only backed her up a few steps. You spit out some of the blood pooling in your mouth. “We don’t have to do this. You’re the strongest. There, I admit it,” you tried, holding your hands up in defeat.

Your eyes flashed to the team, they were all so busy fighting Ultron and the bots, they couldn’t watch you two as well. You just needed to keep Shannon on you if you could, or hopefully wake her from this.

Shannon brushed the dust off her face and hands. “Oh, Y/N, poor little Y/N, always so quick to admit things rather prove your worth. It’s no wonder Thanos was able to manipulate you so well.” Her eyes began to change to their milky white with swirls of red. Causing the sun to disappear.

Some of Ultron’s bots had shown up and had begun to grab ahold of you but they failed to do so.

“Shannon, no!” you screamed, lunging at her to knock the sense out of her. “Don’t!” you said, not thinking, only reacting. Your hand went to her head, all of your energy electrifying her scalp. At first, a scream ripped from her throat, causing Loki and Tony to both look your way. But then her senses overcame your power.

“You think your little shocks will stop me!? It’ll have to take much more than that.” She changed shape becoming Loki. “Love, please don’t hurt me.” His voice came out of her mouth, she laughed watching your expression change.

You knew it was a trick. She transformed in front of your very eyes. You could see your real mate across the field. Tears formed in your eyes. But Loki or Shannon, you couldn’t hurt the person standing in front of you. You took a deep breath and stood up, relaxing your shoulders.

“You’re right, Shannon. It is going to take a lot more to defeat you. And I don’t have it in me. So you’ll have to kill me. I’m not going to fight you.” You let down all of your guards, all of your defenses, going against every survival skill you’d picked up throughout your entire fucked up life. You couldn’t hurt or kill Shannon. Your power against hers, maybe you could slow her down, maybe you were a match for her -- but you didn’t want to be. Hurting her was not worth it.

“You’re no fun. Let’s kick things up a notch. If you won’t fight me like this, then let’s see if you will for the sake of his life.” She pointed to Loki as he was lifted up into the air by multiple bots. Shannon turned to him and was charging up her hands with electricity and there was black and red swirling smoke surrounding her. “Will you save his precious life, or will you stop me for the sake of making a good impression on the team?” Her hands began to close and Loki struggled to move and breathe. She was crushing his windpipe with the smoke.

As much as you wanted to fight it, you wanted to hold her off and save him, your brainwashing was still in there. All it took was the pained look on Loki’s face to fully trigger you. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and when you opened them, a white purple glowed inside them.

You ran and hurtled over Shannon’s head, standing in front of her and blasting her back with your powers nearly at full capacity - dark energy and electricity slammed into her. The shock alone could’ve made her heart burst. The blast was enough to get her to let Loki go, but the bots still had him. You spun quickly, casting your energy to them, ripping them apart piece by piece, finally forcing him to fall to the ground. You ran to him, checking on him. He was gasping for breath. You knew Shannon wouldn’t be down for long so you looked back to where she was getting up.

Shannon took that moment that you were distracted to let Ultron know she could grab her. She saw you turn over to look at her but at that moment you were met with Ultron standing in front of you. He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up and had her facing Shannon. “Now to end this at once. Finish her,” he commanded Shannon.

“With pleasure.” She got up and pulled out a gun from her thigh holster. “If you’d just fought me like you should have, your death would have been different.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Not everyone is made to be a hero, some are just martyrs.” She aimed the gun right between your eyebrows.

Just as she was about to squeeze the trigger, Loki manifested a dagger, flinging it towards Shannon. It only nicked her arm though, because Steve charged at her and slammed her into the ground.

“Banner! I need some help over here!” he shouted.

“Let me go!” Shannon screamed shocking the captain but it did nothing. “You can’t stop me. I will kill her!” She began letting her powers take control but they were no use, the shocks did nothing to him and she couldn’t take anything from him.

You electrified Ultron before slamming a spike you manifested into his cheek. He jumped back, letting you go.

“Steve, no,” you said. “I’m not worth it. Go save the civilians. Fight Ultron. Save the world,” you insisted as he struggled with Shannon. “I can hold her off,” you assured. But you weren’t sure, at all. Shannon playing fair - yes, she was a match for you. Red Room Triggered Shannon? Not so much. That Shannon had a no holds bar attitude, and could very well kill you.

All she could think of was changing into Peggy. “Steve, you’re hurting me, you promised to keep me safe.” She had tears running down her cheek.

It was enough for him to let go in fear that he had hurt her. Shannon took his shield and powered it up with enough volts to kill a pod of whales and threw it at him. He was thrown into Thor’s way.

“Looks like he can’t stop me now. Better run, little Y/N.” Her hands had swirls of fire that kept growing higher up her arms. “Fight me once and for all! Show me everything you’ve got!”

You raised your fists, letting out a breath of air. Just as you were about to unleash fury on her, Hulk came charging up, and grabbed her in his giant hands, pinning her to the ground. You ran up near him, your hands ready. “If I put any power into her, she’ll just use it on you,” you informed, standing beside Hulk. Your eyes scanned quickly for Ultron, but he was back, preoccupied with the rest of the team. At least you had that.

She was screaming, fighting Hulk. You knew he was powerful, but even Shannon could kick things up to the point of getting him off of her. You’d never done this before but you decided to aim your powers in a different manner. The energy trickled from your fingertips calmly into her head, slowly making her vision, hearing, and smell go, disabling her.

Shannon struggled to get the giant hand to let go, he seemed to flinch at the waves of electricity but she seemed to have lost the ability to keep shocking him. Frustrated, she tried her other powers but none of them worked. She tried looking around but her vision had disappeared as had her other senses. She stopped moving for a bit and stood completely still almost as if she’d become unconscious. Seeing her limp form in his hand, Hulk stopped squeezing too tightly, fearing that if he had hurt her too much the doctor would get mad at him.

“Boss, your wife’s vitals have dropped some and she’s gone unconscious,” FRIDAY told Tony inside his suit. He stopped everything he was doing and spun in the air to check on her. “She’ll be fine, but we gotta get Ultron or she won’t be.”

“Right,” he agreed, as much as he didn’t want to leave her. Ultron had sicced all of his bots on the team now, they were scattered, but now it appeared the core was the main objective. The city was already floating, and the team was working hard to figure out how to keep it from exploding and ending the world. There were boats loading the leftover citizens. Now that Shannon had appeared unconscious, you focused your energy elsewhere, deciding to help the team.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked, a bad bruise forming on his cheek.

“As soon as this piece of shit Terminator is dead,” you grumbled before ripping apart a few bots. Your sights set on the big man himself. “Keep him distracted,” you said before slinking off to go around the back of him. “Vision, keep him talking,” you instructed into the comms. Vision did just that, he kept him busy, kept him focused. While you snuck up behind him and began electrocuting him. He reached onto his back and flung you off, slamming you into a brick column. You groaned in pain but stood up.

Vision attacked him with his mind stone, casting a beam at him, while Tony hit him with the repulsors, and Thor lit him up with his lightning. You hobbled your way over to stand beside them, letting your dark energy and electricity pour out of you like a rushing river. His body began to heat up, and you could tell he was melting from the inside as you cried out in pain of trying to keep your power going at this level.

Finally, his form exploded -- but it wasn’t over yet. The bots were still coming. Wanda was manning the core, while the rest of the Avengers got people to boats to safety. You wanted to help, but currently, you were on the ground, panting.

A bot came up, one that Wanda didn’t see, because she was distracted by Pietro getting shot in the shoulder. He wasn’t hurt fatally, but at first she couldn’t tell. You raised your arm to fight him, but you were too weak, and he got to the core.

“No! Wanda!” you weakly shouted and she spun, killing it too late. The core was activated now.

You turned your head to Hulk, immediately. “Hulk, carrier, now! Wanda, get your brother and get out!” you shouted, using all your strength to get up. Hulk nodded and wasted no time picking Shannon up and launching onto a nearby carrier. Wanda ran off to find Pietro, and from what you could see, they made it onto a boat. Loki was already on a safety boat, you could see him from where you were at. A look of terror crossed his face as he realized you were still on the flying city.

“Steve, Clint, you two on a boat?” you asked weakly into the comms, out of breath.

“Yeah, where the hell are you?” Clint asked back.

“Just make sure Tony gets away from here,” you replied. “I’m finishing this.”

You stood up and killed the bot. Ultron wasn’t dead. He still had something out there driving that thing. You narrowed your eyes, about to fly off when suddenly the ground shook beneath you and opened up, causing you to fall in. A scream escaped your throat, you couldn’t help it. You were free falling between ground, rock, roots, and now, you hit the open sky. There wasn’t enough energy for you to fly, so you closed your eyes, waiting for impact - surprised when you were suddenly in someone’s arms.

In shock, you opened your eyes to find Vision.

“Vision?” you breathed. “But what--”

“I’ll find Ultron. Mr. Stark’s instructions were clear -- keep you alive.”

All you could do was frown, but he lowered you onto a boat, next to Hulk who was slowly turning back into Banner.

You took a deep breath, looking around at the Avengers, Shannon… They were safe. The people were safe...Loki was safe… that’s all that mattered.

The boats got onto the helicarrier, and the Avengers gathered around Shannon, who was still knocked out. At this point, you were terrified you’d done something wrong. You’d never disabled anyone like that with your powers and weren’t sure you’d done it right or safely.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, wincing at the sudden sunlight. All eyes were on her as she gasped and sat up.

“Gahh! What happened tell me? I didn't kill anyone, did I?” Shannon looked around, she was afraid that she’d hurt anyone, especially from the team. “Don’t come near me. I’m not sure I’m stable enough to be in contact with anyone.” She started scooching back and hit the back of a seat.

Tony, obviously worried about his wife, rushed to her and was looking everywhere for visible signs or injury. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself in any way?” He started grabbing her hands.

“No! Don’t touch me,” she shrieked, yanking her hands away. “Please don’t come near me. I don’t want to hurt you.” She hugged her knees to herself.

“Shan,” you tried, kneeling, getting on her level. “It’s alright. You won’t hurt us. You’re not activated any more. You’d never do anything to us,” you assured, giving her a warm smile, trying to scoot closer.

“I don’t know that, none of us do. I can still feel it’s inside me.” Her hands shook as she tried to move her hair from her face. “I just need to be alone. If I need anyone Stevie can help.” She looked over at Steve pleading with her eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you need, doll,” he assured with a slight shrug. “Just say the word.”

“Thank you, Stevie. For now I’ll just go rest.” Shannon got up or tried to get up but she was too weak.

“Here, I’ll give you a hand.” Bruce went to help her get up. “Let’s get you to one of the seats.” He took her to her seat.

“Thank you, Bruce, I’ll get some sleep.” She buckled in her seatbelt. “Can I have some painkillers?”

“Sure thing.”

You glanced to Tony as you stood up, worry on your face. He thrust his head over his shoulder to signal he wanted to talk away from everyone. The two of you stepped far out of hearing distance.

“I had no idea she still had that shit in her. That protocol. Those… That trigger.” Tony shook his head, no doubt blaming himself.

“I didn’t either. I thought SHIELD got that out,” you mentioned. ‘What do we do? Tony, she looks like a wounded animal,” you said, pity in your voice. “She’s terrified to even look at us.”

“I know,” he noted before chewing on his lip, watching his bride. “What do you say we take her back to the X-Men? They were making some headway before, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. Her powers are still killing her,” you reminded. “Every time she uses them, and she just let a canon loose,” you remarked. “She needs to be healed.”

He nodded. “Yeah, no, you’re right. We’ll get the rest of the team back to the tower and then I’ll take her to the mansion.”

“We both will,” you asserted softly. “You’ll need to bring Bruce too,” you said.

“Banner? Why?”

“He comforts her. He’s been her primary care doctor. If you’re going to take Shannon there, she’s going to want Bruce by her side too,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Okay, you, me, Banner, and Shannon will go to the mansion,” he corrected, with a bit of an eye roll.

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

Tag List: @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaelingoat-blog @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo @damalseer @heyitscam99 @yknott81 @sorryimacrapwriter @glitterquadricorn @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm @alyssaj23 @sea040561 @princess76179 @thisismysecrethappyplace @sarahp879 @malfoysqueen14 @ellallheart @breezy1415 @marvelmayo @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton @paintballkid711

Loki: @lostinspace33 @ultrarebelheart @lenawiinchester @esoltis280 @tngrayson @wangdeasang @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice

UC: @lokis-high-priestess

#unforeseen chasm #loki x reader #loki fic #Loki Laufeyson #tony stark x ofc #tony stark #tony stark fic #bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #vision #ultron #the maximoff twins

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demoncryptspanties · 5 years ago

Text

Time after Time

Part 2,

Masterlist, Part 1

Ambrose Spellman x Reader

A/N Thank you so much for the love guys, a special thanks to @wakandamama for being such a babe, heres part 2, please enjoy x

He had left just before the period finished leaving you to go to your compulsory ritual class alone. You met Lilac outside her classroom as Rituals was only a half-hour class eager to tell her what had happened.

“You look like a bunny that’s just gotten a carrot what is it. Is the writing guy really good looking or something,” you couldn’t contain the smile you had when she mentioned him.

“His name is Ambrose. He’s the guy from Spain and he also sort of maybe asked me out.” You waited patiently for her to process but it didn’t take long. She stopped in the empty corridor, turning back to you and squealed louder than you expected in a way that also seemed very unlike her.

“You are joking right. The poem guy, the hot one that you kept talking about. That guy. The one with the fish. The fate one” She had a glint in her eye that could only spell trouble.

“Yes,” you were hesitant, head cocked slightly.

“Well I’m coming to your date when is it,” she said matter-of-factly.

“No, what you can’t do that. It’s actually now I should get going” You tried to walk away from her, but she pulled on your arm.

“Well I have skills and I will be there in 10 minutes where is it.”

“The library, I need to go Lilac.” You pulled away from her again. A bashful smile was on her face.

“Okay I’ll see you there,” She turned around in the other direction leaving you again confused and what seemed like late. You rushed off into the direction of the library taking a breath once outside of the large wooden doors. Adjusting your top, you pushed open the heavy door. And walked into the library walking through keeping an eye open for his figure.

You ended up at the back in a corner near a large fire, Ambrose had a book in his hand and seemed pretty engrossed in it.

“Hey, pretty sure I was asked to be here,” you laughed nervously and went to adjust your top again. His eyes lit up when he looked at you.

“Hey. You look good. I mean not any different than you did a couple of hours ago which was good. Why are we standing, the seats are really comfortable? Actual leather.” He spoke fast, seemingly just as nervous as you.

You took a seat opposite him, the fire illuminating both your faces as the lamps seemed to be scarce in this part of the room. “Any particular reason you ran off after class Ambrose”

“Well I’m not a student and Daniel isn’t exactly my biggest fan, I didn’t want to stay and get stuck in a conversation with him,” He chuckled lightly reflecting on a memory before turning back to you, “so. How are you settling in? How is the weather?”

“How is the weather seems to be the standard question. It’s cold and wet but nothing I can’t get used to. What brings you back here?”

“Suggestion from my uncle.” He didn’t expand on the matter and sort of shut-in on himself. He took a deep sigh and then pointed towards the fire “Well you’ve seen what I can do with fish in the river, how about fire.”

You nodded at him and he flicked his wrist in a subtle movement. Muttering something you couldn’t quite catch, the fire seemed to settle down and moulded into the forms of a man and woman. They caressed each other gently and then danced in a slow and calm sequence.

“I have a better idea if you don’t mind standing up.” He smiled at you and obliged, putting your hands out which he took, waiting for you to do something. You walked over to the nearest surface and muttered the chant you had learnt as a child. You reached out into the small void you created and pulled the vinyl player which had been a parting gift from your sister and placed it on the desk in front of you. You set up the record and let it play, the soft tune of a piano filling the air.

He held out his hand the soft smile still present on his face, but his eyebrows were raised in a questioning manner. “This is a little cliché for a first date don’t you think, although I’m not complaining” He spun you around and the two of you ended up close enough that the rest of the room dissipated.

“Yeah, I read it in a book once it seemed like something cute to do,” you giggled slightly the two of you settling into a rhythm and soft chatter. It was only until both sides of the disks had finished that you two finally separated from the soft swaying and occasional spins.

“It’s getting late you should probably go,” he stepped back from you, hands still in your hands.

“Yeah, I should. I hope we do this again.” You picked up your bag and turned to leave, putting the vinyl back through the void and onto your desk at home.

“I think, in class, for the sake of bias that we should keep this professional. But we will do this again.”

“I agree. I suppose this was fate right” you turned on your heel and took a step towards him but stopped.

He huffed, contemplating something before calling out to you, “hey, I know this is weird, you’ve literally only met me twice, but can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering you took a couple of steps towards him giving him a soft kiss before walking away, or more accurately lightly skipping. You opened the large door and stepped out, giving him a quick wave before letting it close, more softly than expected behind you. It was not two steps before you heard a call that made you jump.

“So, you kissed him, that’s cute. Honestly, your date was like something out of some romance book.” Lilac settled next to you, her steps matching yours.

“By the devil, I swear I will hex you next time you do that. How did you know, were you in there, I didn’t see you?”

“I told you I have skills. Well anyways so are you going to see him again. I mean you will in a couple of days but in a different way.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you both giggled.

“It’s not like you to seem so interested but yes if I can help it.” The two of you walked home together, you detailing any bits she missed and then her settling into another story of how she tormented that boy. You went to sleep that night with a smile on your face and very ready for your next class.

The next time you two met that wasn’t in class was purely by chance or fate depending on what you believed. Since you both decided to keep your relationship professional inside class you had been meaning to meet up for another date for two weeks now. He seemed to pay less attention to you in class it was a little awkward.

You were at the baker's a place you found yourself at often, drawn to the smell of fresh bread. The woman who ran it had two small children who you liked to see. In this particular moment, you had brought them a chalkboard each and attempted to teach them some French. Their mother was watching your effort with a soft smile and kind eyes.

Ambrose had walked in, in the middle of you reciting the numbers from one to ten. Your eyes connected and his eyes lit up, “Well sweetheart I didn’t expect to see you at the baker's.

“Why is that so unbelievable. I thought it was fate.” You smiled up at him forgetting where you were for a moment.

He chuckled lightly his eyes beaming. “I’m sorry,” his words seemed to confuse you. You cocked your head to say something, but he cut you off. “I'm sorry I've been so awkward in class and that I haven’t made an effort to talk to you outside of it.

You scoffed lightly before replying, “there isn’t a need to apologise. Conversations take to people I didn’t make an effort either.”

“You did I could see it. You wanted to say something, but I guessed you thought it was too awkward or something. I just wasn’t supposed to be here for long and I'm nervous. I don’t want to mess up anything. I’m not sure what I'll do so bad after 1 date but you...intrigue me a lot. I want to see where this goes.” He moved to lean on the counter the both of you still too engrossed in each other to acknowledge notice the women usher her children into the back.

“Well, you can make it up to me now. I have some bread and cheese we can eat lunch somewhere. Closer to the centre though, I don’t like being this close to human territory.” Although your eyes held worry, his held a pain you could only just make out.

“Yes, I think that’s best. I know it’s Friday afternoon but I’m sure you have a curfew right. For safety. Even though the night is our time others within the community aren’t as nice here.” His previous frown was still there although the emotion that his eyes held changed to something you couldn’t recognise.

You shuffled a little, feeling uncomfortable for some reason. Lily who owned the bakery stood by the counter studying your conversation. She also had a similar frown on her face. “Midnight but I want to get back at least an hour before then if we can.” You said.

“That’s fine. Are we leaving or what?” The familiar smile returned to his face, he offered you his arm which you gladly took. You gave Lily a soft smile and wave as you left the bakery walking out into the surprisingly sunny streets of England.

“So, Ambrose where are we going?” You gave him a small smile and interlinked your hands. He gladly held on tighter a similar smile present on his face.

“Well pumpkin, there’s the grounds around the school. There’s a little nook in the middle of the forest that not many people know about. I actually found it during Lupercalia when I schooled here.” He looked away from you, seemingly pondering on a memory.

“I don’t know whether I should ask about Pumpkin or Lupercalia.” You had a teasing smirk on your face, he tried to hide his smile.

“That is pumpkin bread that you have right. Or are my eyes deceiving me.” He turned a corner sharply, practically dragging you into the side street.

“It is.” You offered no protest over the nickname and settled into a steady pace with him again.

“Well, have you never participated in Lupercalia?” there was a teasing smirk on his face.

“Yes, but it was more because of pressure than anything else. It was fun. I haven’t participated since though.” A memory entered your mind. Not one you wanted to forget but not one you came across in fondness either.

The two of you walked some more, not saying too much to each other but the silence was comfortable and natural. He led you to the grounds and then the woods behind it. The school seemed to get further away, and the building became covered by the dense trees of the forest. After what seemed like 20 minutes of walking and a moment of extremely confused Ambrose you came across a small clearing. About large enough for a large picnic, beside a small river.

The trees around were still dense but it seemed to be in just the right place to catch the sun or moon at any time of day. It was bright and happy. Something unexpected for a place so close to the school for the gifted.

Ambrose gestured for you to sit which you did, close enough to the river to be able to put a hand in it. He took a seat directly opposite you. You used your cloak to sit on whereas he laid his in front of you taking the bread and cheese and laying it on top.

“You brought enough bread and cheese for at least 5 people. What is the occasion? Am I stealing someone’s food?” He chuckled lightly looking at you intently.

“I just really like bread and cheese. Also, it’s my sister’s anniversary so we’ll celebrate later over a mirror.” You looked away into the sky. It was bluer than you remember it being.

“Oh well congratulations to her, I guess. I didn’t bring any wine but a toast. With a slice of cheese. To the anniversary of your sister’s marriage…?”

“Excommunication but that works too.” He gave you a look that you couldn’t decipher but seemed to shake off the emotion and chewed on the pumpkin bread.

“Shall I show you something interesting.” You nodded at him and raised an eyebrow. He turned his head to the river, your eyes following him and set out a hand. He whispered something but you weren’t paying attention because the water splashed on you slightly and then you saw what looked like a fish do a small flip. It was glowing much like the ones on the bridge, but these were smaller, the patterns on them more intricate.

“It reminds me of moon magic,” you said a small smile on your face.

“Yeah, that was the objective. It works a lot better at night for that exact reason.”

“You’ll have to show me again at night then.” The two of you settled into the usual chatter from then on. You found out that his parents died when he was young, but he stayed with his two aunts. He was never that close with his uncle who was the high priest of his coven. He found out that Angelica had been excommunicated a year before you were due to come here and a little about Jude and his proposal. The strained relationship with parental figures seemed to be a running trend for both of you.

He showed you the fish after the moon had come out, keeping an eye on his watch to make sure the two of you didn’t stay out too late. When it came time for the two of you to go, he held you tightly to him asking you to put up your hood once you got back to the town. The minute you exited the school grounds the sky seemed to get darker than before and the overall atmosphere made you uncomfortable. It was not yet 10 pm and yet you had wished you left earlier.

Luckily the journey back to the house was uneventful, the familiar gravel steps offering comfort as soon as you stepped on them. He seemed to feel that as well. The two of you stood under at the porch, both contemplating what the proper goodbye should be. He made the decision, leaning in and kissing you softly before deepening the kiss seemingly out of instinct. You stepped away from him giving him another quick peck and a wink before walking inside the house.

The moment you closed the door you were faced with an excited looking Lilac. The teasing look on her face, had you trying to hide a smile. She pulled your arm, ushering you further not the house. You caught a look at Clara who was glaring pretty intensely at you before Lilac dragged you up to your room. Selene was wrapped around the bannister, but you scooped her up with you, wrapping herself around your wrist.

Lilac sat on the floor pulling you down with her. She gave you an inviting look and gestured with her hand. “Okay, can you spill, because I saw him outside.”

“Okay, so I saw him in the bakery when I was buying the bread and cheese, which a bought way too much, you should eat some, and he asked to go out for a picnic of sorts.” She gestured for you to continue and you did. Detailing the entire day, leaving out the unsettling feeling you had walking through the town.

Your conversation with your sister was about the same. You drank a small amount of wine and toasted with the bread and cheese. The best part of the conversation by far was you detailing your relationship with Ambrose. She seemed more excited than you anticipated asking for every detail and asking a large number of questions. You went to sleep exhausted but happy, excited for the next time you could see him.

The next two months of you two was interesting. You made it a tradition for every Friday and usually ended up spending at least one of the weekend days and any spare time between your classes together. Clara was still cold towards you, despite the fact that nothing had happened it seemed like the more Ambrose seemed to be around the more she began to hate you. She never explicitly said anything to anyone but the way she avoided you like the plague seemed to be enough.

You and Lilac had gotten even closer if you weren’t with Ambrose it was likely that you would be with Lilac. She had not set the boy she didn’t like on fire again and seemed to mellow out a little, still mischievous but never doing anything explicitly dangerous. You and your father spoke every week along with your sister, but you stayed clear of your mother. Even you and Jude had a small conversation, a slightly awkward conversation but a good one, nonetheless.

The time for Ambrose to leave had come and although it was clear to everyone that he wasn’t leaving, the two of you had skirted around talking about it until now. The two of you were sitting in your room, playing a game of cards. You were winning which was rather unusual in terms of this particular game, but he was distracted. You threw your cards down forcing him to look at you with a confused expression. “You’re losing. What’s wrong.”

“Nothing at all, can we just play.” He put down a card but on look at you made him pick it up again and sigh deeply. He put down his cards and turned to face you. “I’m supposed to be leaving. I wasn’t supposed to be here for longer. My uncle wants me back at the coven but of course, you’re here. They offered me a job at the school too which is great so now I have a place to work and a reason for my uncle to stay.”

You cocked your head to the side a little confused, “So what’s the issue?”

“Well. I like you, a lot. Technically I am courting you, but you have a proposal lined up and my uncle really wants me to go back.” He wasn’t able to meet your eye.

“I’ll make sure the proposal doesn’t happen. I’ll talk to him today; I didn’t want to marry him anyway so that’s fine. This was bound to happen anyway, better sooner than later.” You hand movements increased as you spoke, Selene rested on your thigh in a comforting gesture.

“Is that what you want though. We’ve been together for two months, that’s hardly a long time and with the way your family seem to be I think if you refuse the proposal it would be more difficult for you. They could excommunicate you.” You started to fidget, Selene snuggling closer to you.

“They probably will. You want to know if what we have is enough to throw that away right.”

“You won’t get another chance at a proposal Y/N. Me staying here is also a large risk for me. It could hurt how high in the coven I’ll be when I go back. That and the fact that we aren’t part of the same coven. Two months is a short time to have to make a big decision like that. You may not even be able to go back to your coven.” He finally looked at you straight in the eye, his eyes held a deep worry but whether that was for you or him you weren’t sure.

“Do you want to break up. Is that what you want?” Your voice cracked slightly, almost unnoticeably.

“No, no I don’t. I want to do what’s best for you. I think I love you.” You froze at that moment. He seemed to as well, unable to comprehend what he just said. The two of you looked at each other without saying anything for a good minute before you spoke up.

“You’re best for me. I love you too. I don’t want the proposal; I don’t want the coven. I get that two months is a really short time, but I want us and I’m willing to make that decision. I’ll tell Jude today.”

He seemed relieved; the card game forgotten. He took your face in his hands and kissed you gently. He then stood to leave, saying he had to sort a few things out and would see you the next day. He left with a simple peck and an “I love you pumpkin,” something that made you smile the rest of the evening.

It took a lot of courage to call Jude, you contemplating whether you should do this now or another day but you felt it was better to get it over with. He answered quickly like he could sense something coming. There was a warm smile on his face which made you feel worse than you already did.

“Hello Y/N.” Although your face must have been telling that something was wrong, he didn’t seem to see that, the warm smile still present on his face.

“Hello. As much as I want to engage in pleasantries can we talk.” His face dropped slightly but it seemed more out of reaction to your bluntness rather than of hurt.

“Yes of course. What’s wrong?”

“We can’t get married. I met a guy, but that isn’t it at all, it’s more of I don’t feel that way about you and I can’t marry someone I don’t like in that way. I just can’t do it.” His face didn’t seem to drop at all, him patiently waiting for you to stop rambling.

“Okay. In all honesty, I feel the same way. I didn’t even know you knew about the proposal but it's fine. Since I’m not the high priest of the coven it's likely you’ll be excommunicated for whatever reason your mother can make up but know that as soon as I take over, you’ll be free to come back, of course.” You raised your eyebrows in slight surprise.

“That’s fine. Thank you. Not to be rude because I am grateful, but you seemed very unsurprised and that answer seemed very thought out.”

He laughed lightly before answering you, “Well, I was talking to your sister since we are still good friends and she told me about the famous Ambrose. Also, I anticipated that you would say no. Out of all the options I had, you were the best, but I don’t see you in a romantic fashion.” You let out a relieved chuckle of your own and changed the subject to your sister and your parents. You found out that your parents were likely to get divorced, but appearances had meant that your mother was reluctant to let that happen.

The next couple of weeks seemed to go without a hitch, Ambrose sorted things out at home and was able to stay until you finished your course and the two of you seemed to be doing well. Lilac was eager to make a large amount of jokes once you told her quickly making you playfully annoyed. Clara cut off all contact from you together, making sure to say something snarky whenever the two of you had to interact.

The biggest change after everyone found out was Tom. He seemed to open up more for some reason, the teasing that you got from Lilac giving him a way to join in and your little circle became a little bigger. Once out of his shell you found out that you and Tom had a lot in common. His familiar was also a snake called Medusa, but they seemed to be as shy as each other so you rarely saw her. You made sure to spend time with him as often as possible as well as with Lilac together.

Things were good until it was time for a talk with your mother. She didn’t answer leaving your dad to talk to you which you did not mind. You were told from him even though you were expecting it that you had been excommunicated. Your parents had also decided to divorce, and your mother happened to be giving you the silent treatment. Even though it should have, the situation didn’t bother you at all. If anything, you felt a freedom that you had not before. There was no one to impress and your decisions could be made for you and you alone. It was bliss.

#ambrose spellman imagine #ambrose spellman #caos imagine #ambrose spellman x reader #time after time

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mrs-dragneel-stark-solo · 5 years ago

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Unforseen Chasm (Part 48)

Part 48 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 4613 Warnings: Language, last part that deals with Ultron movie, reader fights bff, mind control, widow protocol reactivated, song for this part: Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.