#the men in this series wouldn't be able to do a damn thing without the women

[pinkomcranger]

I saw your post about Saga and I 100% agree. I love her character so much and was so happy they avoided stereotypes AND gave her agency. She wasn't there just to save Alan (the horrid magical black person troupe was avoided) she was there for people who meant something to her and they just so happen to work together by the end. Remedy truly wrote a fascinating character and got a great actress to portray her. I'm glad the hate died out from the reactionaries but the apathy from the fandom is just as bad sometimes. I love her personality and I honestly love AnderCase as a ship and incorporating Saga into ships (AndercasexWake is a thing for me lol). I also like them as friends, their dynamic is so damn good I want to see them in future games. However, I gave up writing Andercase because people just ignore it most of the time. The fandom in general kind of feels isolating if you don't like the standard ships/characters. It's discouraging and sad and makes it hard to want to post. I tried again and of course the fic did poorly so I don't bother, reminds me how little people want anything to do with Saga. Even general fics would be awesome if people are squicked by het or don't like Saga and Casey as a ship. The fan space for her and ships/dynamics with her is so small...Drawing her is scary too given someone was attacked over it, so that worries me too and I kind of backed away. There's barely anything of Saga in any fanworks and when women are involved they gravitate to Rose and in some cases Estevez (the Yakuza mod just broke my heart they did not think to add Saga before Rose who has less time and at a point people shipped Casey with Estevex BEFORE Saga like WHAT). I know that struggle you're feeling. Saga and anything with her is a footnote and I know it's not malicious but it sucks. Fandom favoritism does not help, even in the smallness of Saga fandom content only a handful are seen and the rest ignored. I've been there and seen it, it pushes newcomers away. I hope this gets better in the future but not holding my breath. Love Remedyverse/Remedy but the fandom space depresses me which sucks because everyone seems nice to me, just...sorry for the rambling. Just saw a post that resonated with my frustrations.

Do you know the thing that gets me the most about Saga? She was created by a white man. And he, along with the other writers, made SURE to avoid the stereotypes we usually get in black women protags, especially in video games. She has a power, yes, but she's not using it solely to save one person. She doesn't even know she HAS a power until halfway through the game!

She wants to save her daughter first and foremost and then Casey, she tells Alan this point-blank, save my daughter and Casey, non-negotiable, she's NOT helping him otherwise. And you can see that as selfish, but it's not, if it had JUST been herself thrown into the story? She would've been FINE with it, you see her getting more and more excited about the case. She's intrigued EVERY step of the way. It only becomes personal when Alan has the audacity to use Logan and Casey, that's her line in the sand.

Melanie puts so much into making Saga come alive, because as amazing as the writing is, she could've still fallen into the sassy black woman trope, and Melanie doesn't let that happen. I think the ONLY criticism you can give her is that her accent slips, but I really never noticed it. I agree that I'm glad the hate from the dumbass gamer bros, but like you said, the apathy can be just as bad, it's a choice to not say the quiet part outloud.

I genuinely wish they'd just say, she's a black woman, therefore, I'm not interested in her. I only care about the white men. At least be HONEST about it, instead of raving about how fun it was to play as Saga and she's so badass but not backing it up with actions.

I love Andercase with every fiber of my being. I loved them from their first scene, despite knowing she was married to somebody else. Casey is Saga's support, you see her loving to crack her puns to Casey, she even thinks of one and saves it to memory solely to tell it to Casey. Not Logan, not David, but Casey.

They mirror each other, again from their first scene, drinking coffee at the same time. A trait they keep, even as the horror story creeps closer. Casey wouldn't be even a little bit interesting to me if he wasn't paired with Saga. He's the moon and she's the sun.

I'm so sorry you were discouraged to write and post about Andercase, even just as besties. Because their dynamic IS gold, and it echoes even when they're separated. The second Kiran shows up and kicks Saga off the case, she gets over it, fine, she'll deal, but help her find her partner, damnit! I've enjoyed fics where they are just besties, the ones that ACTUALLY focus on them and, you know, doesn't make Saga the driving force for CaseyWake and nothing else.

I think that's one of the reasons it's hard for me to ship Saga and FBI Casey with anyone else, because they're each other's closest interactions for so much of the game. It's hard for me to ship Alan with them because I see him and Saga as the true platonic soulmates of the AW2 cast and Casey HATES Alan. All the way up the ending of the final draft. You can see it in his expression and body language, if he hadn't just been through the wringer and so happy to see Saga, he definitely would've punched Alan for all he shit he's put them through.

Writing a pairing you love, feeling so proud and happy about the work you've done, just to see it brushed aside is one of the most painful feelings as a creator. Fandom is supposed to be for EVERYONE, it's not supposed to be high school cliques that can't interact with each other. I don't ship Alan with Saga's Casey (it's just the only way I see him, heh), but I've seen some AMAZING fan art for them that's made me smile. But you rarely see Saga involved, which makes no sense in regards to her Casey. If it was fictional Casey, that would make sense, he doesn't exist outside of Alan's head, while Saga's Casey is a living, breathing person who spends most of his time with Saga or talking about her.

Yet she's relegated to the bro when her Casey and Alan only have her in common. I can't buy Casey being soft and domestic with Alan to save my life. I see it with Saga, I can see Saga being soft with Alan because she does show that side to him. That's who she is, if you've earned her trust and respect. You can tell Saga is always the "good cop" while Casey is the "bad cop." The only time you see him sympathetic towards Alan is when he first washes up to shore. He's mocking him but holding his tongue because Saga's not going to take that nonsense from him.

You only see Casey show the full force of his anger towards Alan when Saga isn't there to stop him. To say "Yes, THAT'S the actual love story here" is a...choice, one that actively ignores the on-screen narrative. Again, fictional Casey and Alan are a completely different topic and not something I care enough to write about.

NOBODY should be attacked for liking a pairing because what does that do? What does it accomplish except make yourself feel better and superior? Again, it's been a choice to ignore the two main women in the series, which are Alice and Saga. But I've seen quite a few fics where Alice gets to be paired with CaseyWake, while you'll be hard-pressed to find a fic where Saga gets to interact with them. That tells me something that makes me uncomfortable. And that's covert racism.

You can't even make the excuse that there's nothing left to learn about Saga, because that's simply untrue. We know the bare minimum about her family on the Anderson side, and absolutely nothing concerning her father (who is Warlin Door and I will die on that hill). We don't know much about her created family, certainly nothing about David, outside of the fact he likes Bright Springs, and boardgames and doesn't take his daughter to get checked out after she hits her head in the shower. The fact her entire identity ISN'T just Logan's mother and David's wife means so much to me.

You can't tell me it's because she's married either, because how can you say that in one breath and then ship Alan with anyone but Alice in the same breath? It genuinely leads me to think it's simply that she's a BLACK woman. And as you said, seeing people create ships for Rose and to pair Estevez with CASEY, when she's an out-and-out lesbian that Casey only meets near the end of the game speaks volumes.

I genuinely think if you swapped her race, she would be less ignored, and that's extremely fucked up. Saga was created with so much love, care, and respect. A black woman protag that we could get behind and feel represented by. A smart, strong, caring badass, who still retains her femininity, but who has an identity outside of "mother" even though saving her daughter is her driving force, it's not her only one. She cares about her newly found grandfather and great-uncle. She cares about Rose, despite the woman irritating her in the beginning. She worries for the residents of the nursing home. She has mixed feelings towards the CULT. And of course, her secondary concern is Casey. And once she sees how hard Alan is trying, she comes to care for him as well. Why else tell him he's a hero when she has every right to hate him more than anyone else in the game?

She cares about these people she's met, and she knows they deserve to be saved. And Alan is the first to admit he can't do ANY of it without Saga. If the main character of the series acknowledged Saga, why can't the fandom?

I truly hope that you can find the courage to try again with Andercase, or just Saga in general. Because I'm seeing that there are people that love her, and maybe they're not content creators but consumers, and that's now one of my motivations. To feed their hunger because they're part of the fandom too, and they shouldn't be ignored. I promise you, you'll have a fan in me. And sometimes, just one person knowing they love what you create and how they look forward to it is enough. I'm not interested in a popularity contest. You'll never see me in ship wars. I'm here for FBI Special Agent Saga Anderson. This is her story too, to make her the footnote in fanworks is terribly egregious and goes against the very thing Remedy wanted.

If you ever want to ramble, my inbox is always open. If you ever have ideas you want to see in regards to fanfic for Andercase or Saga, I'm right here. Thank you so much for giving me a chance to read about your feelings for Saga and her partner. It means the world to me.

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [4]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

previous chapter: [3] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 10.6k

status: in progress

author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.

"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."

"We had to do that everyday for our last job."

"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."

"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."

"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.

Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.

And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.

But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.

Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.

How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.

The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?

No, that would've been Joon.

Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?

He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:

LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later

That later still hasn't arrived.

Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.

Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.

It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.

"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."

"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."

"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."

"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."

People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.

If they have a problem with that they can sue you.

"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"

"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."

Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.

Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.

Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.

"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"

"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."

Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.

Ice Skate.

Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?

Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.

"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."

"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.

After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.

If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.

"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.

"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.

Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.

"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"

Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."

Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.

"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."

"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.

One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.

Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.

"Why would you do that?!"

"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."

"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.

Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.

"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.

"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."

"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.

Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.

Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.

"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.

"I always wanted to try."

Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.

Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.

There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.

But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.

"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."

Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.

He did have a point.

"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."

"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.

"No."

Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.

Only Pedro used that line on you.

And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.

He wasn't him to be saying it.

"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.

"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."

Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.

Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.

"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."

Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.

Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.

"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.

He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.

"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.

Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"

"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.

He was not going to desert you now.

"What are you girls doing here?"

Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.

"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.

Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"

Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."

Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.

You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."

Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.

Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.

Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?

"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.

"I can just take it with the three of you."

"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."

Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."

Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.

Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.

Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."

You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.

He was shy.

Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."

Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.

"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.

Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.

"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"

Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."

Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.

You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.

"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.

Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.

Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.

"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"

"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.

"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.

He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"

Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."

Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.

Again, he was being shy.

"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."

Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."

Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"

Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"

"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.

"You kneed her?!"

"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."

"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.

Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."

"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."

"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."

Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.

After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.

No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.

That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.

"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"

Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.

We all have done it once in our lives.

Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.

Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.

Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.

The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.

Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.

But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.

Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.

Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.

After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.

With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"

"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."

You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.

Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"

Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"

It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.

"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"

Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.

He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.

You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?

"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.

It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.

"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.

Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."

Honey.

No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.

Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.

Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.

"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."

Why the fuck would you slip that out.

"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.

Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.

Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.

Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."

Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"

Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."

Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"

Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."

Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.

Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."

Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"

Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"

You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.

"With you there's always a reason."

Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."

Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.

"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"

"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.

"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.

After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."

The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.

What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.

As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.

It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.

"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."

She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."

Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.

Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.

Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.

What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.

Oh no, you truly were screwed.

Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."

"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."

You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.

You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.

Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?

Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.

Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.

"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.

Good, be straightforward.

Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.

Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."

You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.

"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."

"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.

He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.

You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.

"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."

Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.

"What?" he curiously glances down at you.

"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."

Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.

And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.

Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.

Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.

Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."

And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."

But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.

You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.

Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.

"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.

And handsome on top of you.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.

"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.

Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.

"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."

"And I'm tired, deal with it."

Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.

"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"

"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.

You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.

If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.

Doesn't mean you had to talk though.

Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.

Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.

Literally nothing.

And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.

"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"

Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.

Joon would really love this.

Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."

As if that would make you stop your scheme.

Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.

Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.

You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.

"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.

You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.

"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.

Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.

And sadly, he was slowly giving up.

"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."

But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.

Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.

His hand was huge.

"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."

Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.

"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.

He's so warm.

Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"

He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."

You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"

"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.

"And fries?"

Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."

Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"

"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"

With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.

"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.

If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.

"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.

"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."

Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."

Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?

"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"

"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."

Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."

"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."

Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"

"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."

Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.

Shame on you for loving food so much.

Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.

Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.

Or the ducks.

Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.

"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."

Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"

He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"

"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"

"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."

"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.

"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"

"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.

Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"

Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.

Especially thick Mexican ones.

"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."

"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.

"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.

"You mean a veterarian."

Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."

Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.

However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"

Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."

"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"

"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.

Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."

Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.

"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"

Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.

The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.

He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.

And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.

Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.

"You did that on purpose!"

Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."

Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"

Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."

Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."

Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"

Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."

"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.

You were wrong, again.

Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.

He sure has one strong grip.

Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.

Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.

Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"

"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.

Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."

Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.

"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.

"I don't think that's how it works."

Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."

"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."

Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.

Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."

Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."

That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!

Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.

Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.

He has really pretty eyes.

"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."

Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."

"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.

Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"

Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"

"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.

"You're worse than me!"

"My car, my rules."

Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."

His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"

Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."

Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."

"It could be a he," you snap back.

He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.

You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.

"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.

He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .

"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.

Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.

Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."

Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.

Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.

Here goes nothing.

"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"

Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"

Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"

"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"

"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."

"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.

Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.

"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.

"Then why?"

He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."

Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"

Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."

"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"

"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."

Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."

This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?

It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.

"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"

"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.

Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.

"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."

Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."

That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.

You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.

"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"

Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.

This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.

Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.

"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.

Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.

The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.

Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."

"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.

"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."

He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."

Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.

"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.

Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.

It seemed like both of you were screwed.

+

taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats @avengersheart @fafik7  @chimchimjiminie16 @adriennemichelle98

[xthelastknownsurvivorx]

hey y'all popping back on here with some exciting rwrb-related news:

my long fic reincarnation college au now has a title- every time my heart swings back to you. i've posted some snippets before but a quick summary of the premise is that alex and henry are college students at the same school in the modern era but were a knight and prince in their past lives hundreds of years before, and the story of the past slowly unfolds through a series of non-linear flashbacks.

i'm very excited to finally be able to share it, and as a little celebration i'm sharing a short snippet of the prologue below the cut before i start posting in the next few days with more details to come then

content/trigger warnings: death, suicide, mild gore and violence, homophobia, racism

please mind the warnings because these themes start from the beginning of the story and are present throughout even though I wouldn't consider it to be dark fic

"Gabriel of Cleremont, former knight of Lord Beringar's house. Accused and convicted of attempted sodomy with His Royal Highness Prince James. The Prince does not join him today, having rejected his advances. Cleremont is sentenced to death by beheading for his crimes. Is there anything you wish to say to the public gathered here?"

James's breath catches in his throat. He feels pinned, suffocated under the weight of the charges against his beloved and the lies about their relationship. His father's words from earlier echo in his mind.

"Do not look away. This is what happens to men like him." The unspoken To men like you. Be grateful that I saved you from that fate.

Yet Gabriel simply glares up at the executioner and the crowd, fierce and defiant as ever. His gaze is a dare to the world. A challenge that says there's not a damn thing he regrets, least of all James. James has always loved that side of Gabriel, brave and unrepentant, but now such an expression hurts, knowing he'll never see it again.

"I will accept this punishment but I shall not ask for forgiveness. I believe in God and His mercy. I believe that He will see my heart is full of love and understand my choice."

"You dare compare the sin of Sodom to love?"

"I speak from my soul and what I know to be true."

Gabriel's voice is level and strong as he speaks. It carries over the crowd's frenzied shouts, straight into James's heart. Even though he wants to look away, feels his stomach rise back into his throat, he forces himself to watch. Not for his father, but for Gabriel. Gabriel, the brave and beautiful knight who loved him, deserves to be remembered.

As the headman draws the ax, raises it high in preparation for likely what is the first of many blows to prolong Gabriel's suffering, a part of James revolts. Before he knows it, something akin to bravery possesses his body and propels him towards the nearest guard. James grabs the man's sword and presses the point into his chest.

"Do not touch him," James warns, his words coming out steadier than he feels. "If anyone lays a finger on him, I'll kill myself."

Guards rush towards him, but their movement only steels his resolve. He presses the tip in deeper, letting the first drops of red fall. It makes the men pause, unsure what to do. Good.

"Do not mistake my words for idle threat, I have little left to lose."

From the execution platform, Gabriel looks up at him, horrified, as he tries to shake his own guards off. "James, don't!"

...

He looks at Gabriel.

His Gabriel. The only one who ever truly saw him. A storm of emotions rises up in his chest, making it hard to breathe. James doesn't want to do this—he wouldn't do this if he had a choice—but backing down will only damn him to a lifetime of this awful emptiness, without respite. He finds strength in Gabriel once more. A small smile plays on James's lips. I love you.

Then he plunges the sword into his chest.

"James!"

Edit: Prologue and Chapter 1 out now!

[lokisprettygirl]

The Bodyguard (Loki x Female reader) (Au) (18+)

Read chapter 37 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 38

Summary : Your wedding day is finally here and Loki have just one chance to save you but will he be successful in saving himself?

Warning : 18+, Heavy Daddy kink, Smut, Violence, Mentions of self harm, murderous thoughts, Mention of Suicide, Rape, abuse, sexual violence, Harsh language, bodyshaming, fatshaming, mention of neglect and abuse, emotional abuse, Unhealthy Eating Patterns, blackmail, starving and under eating, implied smut, mention of drug use, some weird feeding kink I’m (loki is) developing, short chapter

On the day of your wedding, you woke up, showered and that was all the time you had to be alone, well at least on your own. You looked around the bedroom as you knew you would never come back here, no matter how awful it has been since your mother died, you had spent your childhood here and made good memories with her. Not to forget the every sweet moment you have spent with Loki here, your relationship with him bloomed right in the walls of this room. More and more everyday.

You had to drive to the venue and you didn't get to be with Loki as Katlyn accompanied you. His car and other guards were following yours and as soon as you got into the assigned room where they were supposed to doll you up for the wedding, you didn't even get a moment to breathe. 

Your hair and makeup was done and then you put the dress on, all of it would have felt like a dream if you were actually getting married to the true love of your life. And that made you wonder if he ever wanted to do that with you.

Noticing the commotion outside The plaza hotel made you even more terrified. There was press, so many guests, and the event was supposed to be sold on some networking platform you didn't care enough to learn about. 

When you got ready, you were taken to the room downstairs where you were supposed to wait before your entrance, Loki had already done his part of the planning so you asked your bridesmaids to give you privacy because you needed to be alone in there. The plan was simple, You had to get out of the dress, put the wig on, get into a different set of clothing, take your bag out from the closet and sneak out of the emergency window in the bathroom. Peter would be waiting to take you to a safe place somewhere while Loki would handle the situation here. 

But that's what you feared the most, him being here, he was your bodyguard and they'd question him the first thing.

As soon as you got inside the room you changed out of the wedding dress, put on a tracksuit with the wig on, put the glasses on and sneaked out of the bathroom, Loki had already got his men taking care of the camera outside the bathroom exit. You needed an invitation to get in and out of the hotel since your day literally owned it for the day so you made sure you had one with a fake name, you wrote the invitation yourself.

Your heart was thumping inside your chest as you walked past people you recognised, several of your relatives and friends of your father's. You kept your gaze down throughout so nobody would get suspicious and you were only able to breathe once you stepped out of the main entrance. You looked around and then walked away a few meters to get inside the car waiting for you. Peter drove off immediately and you finally took a deep breath as you melted into the seat. That was the scariest thing you have ever done in your life.

"Damn that was stressful huh" he said to you and you looked at him as you sighed,

"What are we doing Pete?" Your eyes teared up as the seriousness of the situation finally hit you. What were you doing and how did you even get such strength to do this? The answer was very clear to you, Loki, without him you wouldn't even think of this, you had given up on yourself and this whole life before you met him.

"We are saving your life my dearest" 

"I should call him.. I'm so worried" he snatched the phone from your hand and turned it off immediately.

"Noo you can't do that, do what he asked you to do alright? We can't screw this up now" he told you sternly and you nodded. There was no room for any fuck ups here.  

You took out the sim card from your phone and threw it out the window, then after you two have driven for a few miles, Peter took your phone, stepped out and he destroyed it as well, Loki knew they'd try to track you as soon as they realized you're missing. 

"Stop freaking out y/n, it will be okay" Peter said to you as he got in and you looked at him,

"You think? I'm shitting bricks here, what must be happening there? Do you think they are aware by now that I'm not in the room?" 

"Probably..and I'm supposed to be in Namibia..let's see what's happening" 

He turned the tv system on and you flipped through the news channels, nothing as of yet. That was a good sign, because you knew your dad and you knew he'd try to keep this matter away from the media just like he did with your mother's death.

You just prayed that he was okay, your eyes welled up again as you thought about your Loki.

Loki called Steve when you didn't open the door and he came running along with his family, Rocky and Suzzanah came too, they were all worried that you had died or something.

"She's her mother's daughter for god's sake..break the damn door" Rocky yelled so Erik called a guard to break open the door, 

"You were right here, did you not hear anything?" Steve grabbed Loki by the collar as he questioned him.

"She went inside and needed her privacy, I didn't hear anything, I have been trying to call her but it's unreachable" Loki answered him.

"A fucking bodyguard, you're useless" he punched Loki in the face but he didn't retailate on purpose, then Steve let go of him and as soon as the door opened they all hoarded inside, you weren't there, Loki looked at Erik and he seemed nervous too so he assured him with his eyes. 

"She's gone, I can not believe this, that fucking bi–" Steve ate his words as Rocky looked at him, the wedding dress was on the floor in the middle of the room and they figured that you fled from the bathroom window, Rocky immediately called for the surveillance footage but the camera outside the bathroom exit was not working. 

"What are we going to do?" Steve sat down on the couch, he was carrying alot of anger and he would murder you if he knew where you were right now.

"We need to find her, what are we going to tell everyone, the press is out there, the wedding was supposed to broadcast live on CNN, this is ridiculous" Mason yelled and Rocky sighed, he should have known you wouldn't just get married to Steve so easily. He should have been careful with you.

Rocky called his publicist immediately and he told him to fake a heart attack so the wedding could get postponed. Nobody can know that you're missing.

"Bring him to me" Rocky told Erik and pointed towards Loki and that's when Loki actually felt nervous. That made so him scared, he has been through this before and his nerves were wrecked in that moment. Did he fuck up somehow? Was there something Loki has done that made Rocky doubt him? 

Erik took Loki to Rocky's room and Steve was already there pacing back and forth while Katlyn was scrolling through her phone. She didn't care about the situation at all. Rocky asked Erik to leave .

"You have been following her for months now, was she seeing someone else?" Rocky was sitting on the sofa lighting up a cigarette while Loki stood a few feet away from him.

"No sir, there wasn't anyone else, not that I know of" 

"Wait a second" Steve exclaimed and glared at Loki for a moment before he shifted his gaze towards Rocky.

"Peter, he left yesterday right? What if she ran away with him? Her old flame, something must have happened between them in past few days" Rocky hummed in response as he thought about it.

"Bro relax, Peter hates her and he's in Namibia, he sent me the picture as soon as he landed" Loki couldn't have been more thankful that she wasn't very smart.

"Where the fuck is she then huhhhhh?" In the fit of rage, Steve picked up a vase and threw it in the corner of the room. 

"Get our men out there instead of wasting time here. Airport,station, she won't get out of the city. And she'll definitely use the card at some point" Rocky told Steve and he immediately stormed past Loki bumping him in the shoulder which made Loki wince as he was already hurt. 

He also asked Katlyn to step outside of the room leaving only Loki in there.

"I should leave too" Loki mumbled and turned around but Rocky stopped him, for some reason he had a bad feeling about this.

"Not you, you can't leave" 

You destroyed your credit cards as well on the way. Peter drove you to a safe house outside the city and you spotted a middle aged man who was looking at you two .

"Wait, I don't even know this man, is he nice? A rapist? A kidnapper?" You mumbled nervously as you looked at the man on the porch outside the house.

"Y/n.. Loki asked me to get you here, he won't let you get hurt" you nodded as he said that, you hugged him and his eyes teared up, he quickly pulled away and kissed your forehead.

"He really does make you happy huh" your own eyes teared up as you nodded. He really did and you hoped you made him happy too. 

"Peter I..I wish things were different with us–" 

"It was my fault y/n, besides i don't think I could ever love you as much as he does" you looked down as you nodded. There was a time when you envisioned your whole life with him but then you were just a kid.

"You're a very good friend Pete, thank you. Will I see you again?"' You asked him and he smiled.

"Someday yeah of course I'll find you don't worry, I'm good at stalking" you chuckled as he said that.

"Okay be careful please" you smiled and grabbed your bag to get out of the car. As he drove off you walked towards the house and the man approached you,

"Anthony Stark..you must be y/n" he introduced himself and you smiled. That was Loki's boss. He took you inside the house and then showed you around. 

"The fridge is stocked up, all you have to do is warm up the food, there are snacks and drink, if you need anything, my number is here, there's a telephone in the bedroom and some money in the drawer but don't try to get out on your own" you nodded as he spoke hurriedly.

"I feel like I have seen you before" you mumbled and he looked at you confused.

"I try to stay low key..no pun there. I mean I definitely have seen you, my daughter follows you on that thing..what's it's called..latergram?" He scratched his head and you chuckled.

"Instagram?" 

"Yeah right" 

You smiled as you nodded and so did he. 

"Can you talk to Loki and see if he's okay?" Your eyes teared up as you thought about him and his adorable face, you just wanted him close to you, safe and away from your horrible family. The thought of him being hurt by them was making you anxious and nauseous.

"He'll be fine don't worry, I have to go so keep the door locked and don't open it for anyone except Loki " 

"Not even you?" You looked at him confused and his furrowed his brows. 

"Except me and Loki " 

"Oh okay" 

You locked the door and looked around, it was a two storey house. Poor people's house but it seemed cozy, that's how you wanted your place with Loki to look like. You felt hungry but you couldn't even get a bite in, thoughts of him getting hurt was keeping your heart in your throat. 

And then hours passed, hours, but he didn't come back. You were losing your mind and the thoughts of him being in trouble or worse was killing you. You can't lose him and after everything he has done for you, you wanted to worship him all his life, love him like he has never been loved before, take care of him in every way he deserved to be taken care of but what if he never comes back? What if they take him away from you? 

You didn't even have your phone, there was a computer but you couldn't even log into your accounts in the fear of getting your location disclosed. You missed his pretty face and comforting arms and it's been just a few hours. 

To distract your mind you turned the tv on, the news of your father getting a heart attack being the reason the wedding was postponed was all over. Of Course he came up with something, he couldn't let the news of you running away get out in the world.

You took out a fresh t-shirt and jeans from your bag, then you showered and changed. 

It felt weird, everything felt weird, you weren't used to being alone like this. Lonely? yes but not alone, you had people doing things for you but all that won't happen now, you had to get self sufficient. When it hit past 10 you started to get extremely anxious, you called Stark but he didn't ease your fears. He just asked you to not freak out but how could you not worry? It's been hours since you have heard from him and as your bodyguard you knew they'd investigate him the first thing.

He should have ran with you, you knew that but then he didn't want them to think that he was involved in this.

You laid down on the couch and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore, the tears didn't stop coming as you kept picturing him being hurt. The story of him telling you about getting beat up and his wife not picking him flashed through your head, you won't be there to pick him either. Your thoughts were getting the worst of you, every second you didn't get to be with him was killing you. He had promised that he won't leave you, he won't break the promise right? He would get there but then it's been hours, where was he? 

You couldn't even sleep with all those thoughts running through your head. You can't do this without him, you felt all alone but you didn't need anyone else. You only needed him. 

And when the hours of crying and the splitting headache you got from it almost made you doze off, that's when you heard the knock on the door.

In the pattern of one and three.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[kineticpenguin]

Actually, before I inflict more of this series on myself, I'd like to take a break and talk about the really, really bad ideas most people have about life before electricity. This especially includes SHTF survival fiction authors.

Oh sure, most people are aware of certain things not being invented yet, not being widely available, or not being terribly effective. Unsterilized medical equipment, anesthetic being nonexistent or reserved for rich people, antibiotics not invented yet. "Medicine was mostly whiskey and hacksaws," and all that. You wouldn't have a lot of things you'd take for granted today. Sure, just about everyone gets that.

But most people also make bad assumptions about gender roles, what sort of hospitality was expected of people, what constituted trespassing, and so on. There was more to it than "men do dangerous and violent things, women make food and babies." The other side of the male expendability coin is that women still needed to do things to survive when the males were, well, expended. Women still needed to be able to chop wood, hunt, raise and slaughter animals, repair the home, the whole nine yards. For similar reasons, men needed to be able to cook food, repair clothes and raise children.

Up until the mid-1800s, it was normal to take in traveling strangers for the night and let them share your bed. Modern ideas about imposition and a man's home being his castle hadn't really taken root, yet. It'd be completely normal to pass through a stranger's land, as long as you didn't damage or steal anything. The idea that it's weird for someone walking by to look in your windows really only got going in the 1840s-1850s. You could borrow things from your neighbors without asking, with the understanding that it was always meant to be returned. (If there's a bear nearby, you might not have time to find said neighbor before you grab his rifle from his house, and you might not have the literacy or implements to leave a note, for example). And oh yeah, people were generally not armed all the time, especially in town.

Now, this all might not be how things would shape up in the years following a world-changing disaster, but the guarded hostility rampant in these stories would probably burn itself out, if it happened at all. The price for every encounter possibly ending in gunfire would be too damn high. The idea that women would just revert to Hollywood schoolmarm farmwife stereotypes probably would not happen at all.

[rcksmith]

Sun — Kaz Brekker

Resume: Feelings are destabilizing things.

A/N: This story is not set in the books of Six Crows, I also changed the age of the characters to twenty-something because the idea of ​​writing something about a child makes me uncomfortable. All my stories, of any characters, are with them being of up age. Just like many fanfics out there in the teen series.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Mention of fight, swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, mention of kiss, mention of desire, desire, mention of death, but so fucking fluff.

Word count: 3k.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There were few things in life that he was absolutely sure of. Things that were immutable, solid, unshakable. That even the strongest of winds would not be able to shake the structure. A life built on the basis of an equation of chaos, suffering, death and despair generated a result where it was necessary to be sure of something. And one of those certainties was the ability of himself, of his instincts, of his intelligence, the notion that he himself was a person capable of resolving any type of situation with iron fists. The second was the certainty of the loyalty of his crows, of the two people who, he knew, would never turn their backs on him.

And the third... the third was that when Kaz Brekker first laid eyes on you, he was sure that you would divide his life between a before and an after.

It was a lepid, ferocious feeling that swept the body of The Bastard of the Barrel from the top of his head to the tip of his polished boots. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat, a shiver as if receiving a midnight sigh at the back of the neck. There was a quick sensation of burning in the heat of an icy fire, but his composure did not flinch a single millimeter. He had learned to keep it in all situations, trained with steel fists.

Kaz looked at you deeply, from the top of your hair to the tip of your feet, trying to find answers as to why you had triggered such disturbing sensations with a simple and ridiculous exchange of looks. But he found no answers. He found neither after a day, nor after a week, damn it, he did not find nor after a month!

You had joined the infamous trio because they needed a fighting expert, someone who could defeat a good number of men on her own without needing backup, which would make their bigger and more complex robberies much easier. And when they found you, a girl who had been the subject for a experiment to create super soldiers, your ability to fight, physical endurance, and your sense of loyalty, made you perfect for the job.

But none of that explained why, whenever the stormy blue eyes met yours, he felt like he was ricochet by living eels. It was exasperating, frustrating on so many levels that it was difficult to put into words. Kaz could not expose this misfortune to his two closest people, first because his pride in admitting a disturbance in his subtly balanced world was too great, and second that... even if he considered said that, he would not know how to name those feelings for express what he were feeling.

How would Jesper and Inej understand something that even he did not understand?

Kaz Brekker had a firm and calm demeanor, an implacably logical mind and a way of narrowing his eyes that ensured that his orders were carried out with great efficiency, all according to the moment he wished. Then, just as he did to get rid of any disturbance, he buried those sensations so deeply until, like his overwhelming pains and traumas, they stopped tormenting him.

He thought that, like his flawless and cunning plans, it would have the same effect. That his nerves could get back to normal and he wouldn't have to deal with the feeling that feel hiself whit cold and hot at the same time whenever he laid eyes on you.

But, if it was true that the practice makes perfect, this rule has not been applied in this situation.

The deeper he buried those beginnings of thats sensations, more of them began to flourish, roaring harder, as a constant reminder that he was not that rock of stoicity and absence of feelings that he liked to think he was. It seemed that, just as light existed to exorcise the darkness, you existed to show that he still had a beating heart. Hot blood still coursing through the veins.

It has not helped anything in his cause that, over time, Inej and Jesper have become attache to you. Jesper even more. But if Kaz put aside his frustration and irritation for a second, he would know that he couldn't to blame them. In fact, there was no way to blame every person who approached you, delighted.

Jesper once described you as "the soul of the party", and Inej said that you had fire in your soul. Kaz would not have been able to think of better definitions to put into words what you were. There was thing about the way you laughed, the way you talked, the way your tilting your head and your so easy smile. There was a thing about you. That transformed you into the solar system and people orbited in your gravity like planets.

You had a way with people, Kaz really thought it was a gift, a talent. You were always laughing, smiling, playing with people and making them so comfortable in your presence that, once, Kaz saw a trader, who are in a the middle of a refused to close a contract with Kaz, just melt and give up because of the smile you gave to him.

Nothing from you has been forced, malicious, shrewd or cunning. You really smiled, you really laughed, as if you were...happy. Purely happy. And, in a second of insanity, Kaz wondered if that happiness was possible. If it was possible for him to feel something like this.

But, just as Brekker took his soul close from you as much as he could to avoid any emotion, Jesper did the exact opposite. Very quickly, just like Kaz and Inej are, the two of you became a pair of inseparable friends. Were always together.

Perhaps it was because you two were overwhelmingly alike: Always in the eye of danger, addicted to adrenaline, purely outgoing and liked a good fun. Or maybe it was because, like everyone around you, Jesper felt drawn closer to your warm, joyful and comforting aura.

But whatever it was, the timbre of your laughter followed by Jesper's became a sound as natural as the whistling of the wind. And it didn't take long for you two to become partners in thefts and plans.

However, it didn't take long too for the reactions Kaz had about the influence of your presence to become...louder.

If Kaz Brekker closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, he could still remember and feel that night perfectly as if it were yesterday:

The plan was succinct: They would have to go through guards, high walls and locks to enter a merchant's residence, open the safe, pick up the jewels and leave. Twenty minutes was the time limit to complete that sequence.

Everyone was assigned to one thing: Kaz would turn off a fabricated security system from a Grisha, Inej would sneak into the shadows to the safe and pick up the jewels, and Jesper and you would be responsible for dealing with the various guards. Everyone would have to meet in the corridor that led to the back exit.

Kaz did not think that that so ridiculous and simple plan it could go wrong. Or that someone could make a slip. To him, it seemed as easy as sneaking into a yacht boat. However, there he was, next to Inej who carried the jewelery bag in her hand, both of them standing in that dimly lit corridor, waiting for you and Jesper to appear.

"It's been three minutes!" Inej pointed, as if Kaz didn't already know that.

Her intonation was concerned, apprehensive, with a certain fear. Kaz thought about saying something, but as soon as his mouth opened to say anything, he heard...

Steps. Hurried steps of two people. No, actually, the two people were running.

Suddenly, you and Jesper burst into the corridor, running as if their lives depended on it. Inej and Kaz would have been worried if it weren't for the bastard and peraltas smiles that stretched across faces of you two, stretching their cheeks.

Then Kaz noticed the reason for the delay. You two carried a giant picture under your left arms. Jesper carried the front end and you the back end, like two children who made a mischief and was running from their mother. True accomplices.

Kaz's jaw opened, his eyes widened slightly and roamed the frame with agitated iris, while Inej was totally baffled.

"C'mon, C'mon!" You exclaimed with laughter in your voice, Jesper and you never stopped running.

As soon all left and took shelter in the safety and peace of the Crow Club closed in that night, Jesper and you fell on the couch, laughing and panting.

"What was that?!” But Kaz was exasperated "Do you both know how much risked the plan?!"

"It was only three minutes, Boss." Jesper defended himself.

"It..." That's when Kaz looked at the painting responsible for all the commotion and fuss.

It was a painting, a landscape by Ravka. The fold. In oil on parchment. A DeKappel. That was worth at least ten thousand Kruges.

“You commented that you needed a new painting for your office.” Your voice took Kaz out of the admiration on the painting, and Jesper and Inej looked at you as if they had discovered that now too.

Jesper and Inej thought it was just for the money...

Kaz looked up into your eyes, and the cold, warm shiver spreading across his chest and snaking to his bones. As it always did the moment yours eyes meeting.

He remembered commenting in passing, in a very vague and obtuse way, that he wanted a new painting in the office. Until that moment, Brekker didn't think you paying attention to what he had to say. Not when it wasn't about a job or plan.

But there you were, proving that you had heard. And that you cared.

His breath caught for a second, the icy chill turned to something warmer, like the first sparks of fire in a fireplace. The first flames that precede the fire.

After that, Kaz began to pay more attention, unconsciously, to what you said. And, consequently, he started paying more attention to you. It had been gradual, sneaky as a snake, imperceptible so he wouldn't be able to root it out. As if the universe, destiny or divines, introduced, grain by grain, a small summer in a landscape frozen by winter.

It all started with your comment about liking it sweeter than salty, that dry wine left you with a headache and that you preferred rum. He evolved to notice how your tone of voice got sweeter when you talked to children or animals, and more serious when it came to the safety of the three crows. And suddenly, as if Kaz already knew this as he knew the sky was blue, he knew how to say how your eyes sparkled when you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin.

In that second, looking at you from the other side of the agitated club that turned into a celebration with dance and music, the world became suspended for a moment. The music became just an echoing, blurry noise, the images turned to slow motion and the air seemed to change in pitch. You, who laughed and speen round in Jesper's arms amid so many people who did the same thing, were the only one who starred as the main attraction.

In that minute, when the breath was slow and lyrical, and the air had a beauty tone, Kaz's eyes caught the exact moment when a beam of sunlight hit your face, shining on your skin as if you were one pirate tropical treasure. In a burst, a second of insanity, like a violin string that burst at the apice of the song, he felt that there was nothing else in the world worth seeing that was not you.

It was a scary, terrifying discovery. Something that made him freeze from head to toe, and all the speed in the world came back so fast that Kaz felt dizzy. He pressed his covered hand to the crow's beak of his cane, as if he needed a reminder of reality. Something that would wake him up from those hellish sensations.

- -

The months passed after that fateful afternoon. Kaz avoided staying close to you any longer than necessary and would strongly and vigorously scold every change of tone within himself whenever he saw you.

He didn't know what those sensations meant, but he also didn't want to find out. He liked challenges and responsibilities, but being around you was proving to be more than he could take. Your presence ignited him in a cold and warm fire, promising a future full of unfulfilled infinite wills. From pain, impotence and doomed to failure. Any feeling for you would be more of a punishment than anything else. The only solution was to get it out of your head.

Of course, he had been trying to do just that since he met you.

But again, the universe did not seem to want to give up from he. Not so easily.

Kaz had to take you along to make a deal with a merchant who was more impassable than a rock. Kaz had tried to negotiate with him before (since he couldn't take the strength or rob what he wanted) and all his efforts were in vain. So, he appealed for the last weapon. The person who always had a natural gift whit other people and always had a real smile that made anybody feel like... as if happiness really existed.

You.

"I'm glad it's hot" You commented, while walking next to Kaz "I don’t like the cold."

How did he know that you would say just that? That was so you. Warm, sweet and cozy things were the embodiment of what you were. It was logical that you preferred the heat. So different from him that, instead of you, enjoyed the cold. Liked the rains and storms, relaxed with the moonlight and felt less tense with the midnight winter breeze.

Kaz understood your personality as he understood the very lines of his hands. You were wild, bordering on reckless, you acted before thinking and you always loved anything that aroused adrenaline. You ran like no one else, jumped from one horse's cell to another, decided to catch the largest number of targets just because you wanted the thrill of fighting five against one. Anything calm, serene and peaceful stirred your restless personality. And Kaz knew exactly your level of restlessness from the way your leg was constantly jumping when you had to sit still for more than a few minutes.

You were a free spirit, forged in the heart of the sun and in the heat of summer. While he was limited by his own body and built in the heart of winter and frozen by the cold of the sea. Anything between you was doomed to fail even before you two met. Kaz Brekker knew this very well.

“He is late.” You grunted, your leg was already starting to jumping when you two spent a measly ten minutes waiting for the man.

You looked back and seemed to find it interesting, because Kaz saw your eyes shine.

"Let's go there?" You pointed, and Kaz had to turn around to see that you were referring to a coffee shop.

Crowded with sweets in the window for a change. Why was he not surprised?

“No.” He turned forward again, both hands on the cane.

"So I go over there and come back quickly."

“Y/n" he just said in a warning tone, giving you a scolding look.

You mumbled something he didn't identify, turned around again and did your best to be quiet. Five minutes passed before that merchant arrived, and Kaz can perfectly follow the change in his posture, change in the man eyes when you greeted him with that summer voice and sunny smile.

It was so vibrant, so vivid that, for a second, Kaz found himself slightly swayed by all the brilliance you emanated. Pulled towards your like an animal needing the warmth of the sun.

It didn't take much for the man to sign and agree with everything Kaz said and imposed. In fact, he suspected that if he had asked him to give him his bank password, the man would have been happy to do so.

"Can we go in the coffee shop now?” You commented as soon as the man left, still turning around to look at you as much as possible.

Kaz restrained the glaring urge to roll his eyes, but he had just landed a very lucrative business just and exclusively because you agreed to help. Even though you didn't gain anything from it. So, if he had to go with you to a goddamn coffee shop so he wouldn't feel like a petty profiteer, he would go to the goddamn coffee shop.

Kaz just walked towards the place, and the wide, summery smile you gave may have he missed a few heartbeats.

Stop it!

Once inside the damn store, you scanned the menu that hung on the wall.

“I never took this one.” You commented, pointing to what appeared to be a very sweet mix of drink. Something that involved ice cream and chocolate with something else.

It was not the kind of comment that had an answer, and Kaz was still engaged in the mission to stay away from you. But he thought that statement was just the reason why you wouldn't order that drink. But, just as you always threw any worldview Kaz had in the latrine, you asked for just that. His eyes were bloodshot with astonishment.

“Why are you going to order something you don't know if you like it?” He asked as soon as you got the drink and paid for it.

"How am I supposed to know if something is good if I never try it?” You said casually, both of you going out of the store. “Wanna try out?”

You held out for he the plastic cup that was covered by a lid that had a hole in the middle, where a fat, transparent straw came out. Kaz looked at you as if you had created a second head.

“Come on, you'll never know if you like it if you don't taste it.” The two of you stopped, you still holding the glass gently towards his mouth.

“No.” Kaz shook his head.

“Come ooon.” You insisted, a petulant and amusing smile plastered on your face.

"No."

You shook the glass, holding it out once more. This time, Kaz gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"You're not going to stop insisting until I take this thing, are you?"

You laughed, with a triumphant and friendly smile “I'm glad you know me so well”

Kaz rolled his eyes, snatching the glass from your hand and bringing the hellish straw to his mouth. Hell, he felt so stupid pulling that stupid drink through that straw. As soon as the sweet liquid invaded his tongue, an explosion of flavors flooded his palate, causing him to remain unresponsive for a moment.

"You liked it!" But just as he unveiled all of your lookes, you knew how to unveil all of his.

Kaz handed you the glass. “Absurdly sweet."

"You liked that I know."

You joked and, for a second, you had aroused he a desire to smile. A succinct curve in lips. With your sunny smiles and summer expressions, you looked like you were out of an enchanted forest inhabited by mystical creatures. Sun nymphs. Maybe Kaz would even have let himself go lightly if, when you took the glass back, your lips had not wrapped around the tip of the straw.

Exactly where his mouth was a second ago.

He pulse quickened so fast that it made the blood burn in his veins. It was impossible not to look down at delicate mouth, the subtle but destabilizing curvature in the center of your lower lip. Suddenly, he was out of breath, his body numb and his heart stopped beating for a second before accelerating to an alarming level.

Everything became hot, stuffy. The world spun away, out of focus, out of existence, leading he on a waltz unlike anything Kaz had ever felt before.

Kaz Brekker was the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirty hands and scammer. Someone trapped by his own body and traumas, unable to allow himself to enjoy human contact. But, hell, he was still a man. And in that moment, in that insane moment, he wanted to pretend, even for a few seconds, that what he wanted was within his reach.

Kaz thought he understood the desire: an attraction. He thought he knew what lust was: a wish that people felt. He had seen countless examples on his bar counter, drunk and chattering about what it was like to want a woman, to long for her. He thought he understood.

And he found that he didn't understand anything.

The desire was a hot and feverish whirlwind that shivered he from head to toe, with dizzying speed, and dragged everything towards perdition, below any intellect, any rationality. Rationally, he shouldn't have thought you were even more beautiful. But he did. He shouldn't feel his breath catch, but he did.

He felt as if he were walking on a narrow suspended board. One misstep and it would be the end of it. Hiding his disturbing thoughts, Kaz looked away from you.

He was ruined for the rest of his life.

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Shift My World (The Witcher Fanfiction Chapter 5)

Summary: Shifting is all grand and dandy for those who believe in it. Does it work? Who knows! Some people say it does while others don't, perhaps it's just something in the mind. Olivia Watson found the truth behind it as she transfers herself into the world of The Witcher one night after a drunken movie night with her friends! Only she wasn't expecting to get stuck there and worse off...she didn't expect to love them as much as she did.

Prompt: In honor of Henry Cavill who no longer will be with us on The Witcher as Geralt of Rivia after season 3. I have decided to take my ongoing story from Wattpad to share with you guys!

workshop

Previous

The rhythmic thumping of hooves on dirt along the main road did not turn many heads as wagons drove by and people passed with goats or cows. This was a busy street so her presence was not noticed as anything odd right off the bat. That was a fact that she was most grateful for as she led her stallion off the main path and through the gates of the town of Rinde. It was a quaint little place if not a little seedy by the looks of the marketplace but this was a place she needed to be. This was where Olivia had finally tracked down Yennefer to be at the current moment. Partly from her knowledge of the TV series but partly because she had to do the grunt work by asking around to get to know just exactly where things were to get a feel of the timeframe she was set in. All the while as she did this she would often hear stories and tales of the White Wolf and the singing bard anywhere she went making the sour taste in the back of her throat worsen with each encounter. She'd left them; Geralt and Jaskier back in that town that she almost had now forgotten the name of even if she had not forgotten the kind people. She hadn't searched for the two men and more often than not had to stop herself from asking around in towns where she knew they'd been for info on their well-being. She'd meant what she'd said all those nights ago and she would not apologize for them; it was a thing of the past she had to forget and move on to achieve her goal in the period that she was able. Because she didn't want to waste time and get caught up in the war that was brewing behind the scenes just ready to explode. 

But in the end, her hard work had paid off and that's all that mattered to her. She'd found her target and it was time she got answers or at least some help; it wouldn't do for her to get distracted now. God, the months she'd spent from one town to another just to find some coin to be able to buy herself much-needed equipment and essentials had taken too much of her time. She knew Yennefer would also want coin as an exchange for her services so Olivia had worked her ass off to get the pouch she carried on her person for this meeting. 

As Olivia pulled Thor to a halt by the back stables she had to look around to make sure no one else was around. The mansion was rather barren except for a greasy large man standing by the gates juggling a small pouch full of coins she had given him moments before as a bribe for his silence and her entry. There was not even a stable hand to take Thor from her. That didn't matter though. She could tack him up in a stall herself. The mayor's stables for his home were better than a local tavern stable but not by much; a testimony of just how far the mayor had fallen under Yennefer's spell. She knew she'd be in there in that room filled with spell-cast people having a damn orgy of all things. She just hoped she had come in time before Geralt came in with an injured Jaskier. Still, it would not be a pretty sight for Olivia's eyes. As she took care of the black horse into a stall and allowed him room to breath without his burden of saddle and bedroll on him she turned down to look at the large grey beast that was sniffing the straw scattered cobblestone. 

"Killua stay here, guard the door until I come back okay? We don't want you giving the poor mayor a heart attack, right?" the woman rubbed a hand along the wolf's head before glancing cautiously down the rows of stalls to see if she could spot a familiar chestnut mare in one. When she found nothing but empty spaces in the other 5 stalls beside Thor's the dark-haired woman sighed in relief realizing she came just in time. 

Pulling the thick coat around herself she walked out of the stables towards the front entrance of the mayor's home. Not even needing to knock as she knew quite well he would be walking into the room moments later naked as the day he was born. She was already looking at a different part of the door as she heard his footsteps enter the kitchen. She grimaced and kept her eyes firmly on the opposite wall.

"Well hello there. I did not know I was getting visitors...I was going to get some apple juice. She does like her apple juice; she was asking for it." the mayor's lulling voice spoke as if he was not at all surprised to have a stranger in his home.

Of course, the poor man wouldn't mind. He was cast under whatever spell Yennefer had him under. He wouldn't even remember what happened in the morning. Better for him. Still looking away from the very naked older man the woman reached blindly out towards him to grab the jug of juice. 

"No need to worry, I'll take it to her. You just go sleep okay?" she offered as she slipped on past him; giving him plenty of room so as she would not have to touch him at all with any part of herself. Making a grossed-out face at the very idea of any part of her making contact with the old wrinkly naked man. 

It was far worse when she walked through the door into Yennefer's lair. Strangers all around her were in all sorts of different stages of undress and the lady herself was right where Olivia expected her to be. Sitting on her throne at the back of the room looking like a seductress at work as she watched everyone. Those enthralling violet orbs turned from where they were watching a couple across the room to meet Olivia's hesitant gaze as she stood at the door holding the jug of apple juice like an idiot. Feeling even more uncomfortable she began stalking her way through the room trying so hard not to touch anyone as she neared the woman.  Yennefer's gaze fixed on the other as she weaved gracefully between bodies until she stood right in front of her. Purple irises sizing her up as much as she was checking her out. Olivia's jaw clenched a little at that but she said nothing about it and instead spoke up before the other had the chance.

"I'd like to cut to the chase. I know you're a powerful mage. I need your help with something important. I have coins to be able to compensate your time." Olivia stated firmly and with as much authority as she could muster.

Her words and demeanor made Yennefer's brow raise from under the black lace mask she wore across her eyes. "Well, not even an introduction before business. Straight to the point, I see; I like that. But what makes you think that I am for hire?" she questioned in a voice that was supposed to be seductive and perhaps a little teasing.

Olivia was not fazed. Not really because she knew all of that was just a cocky act to get under her skin. The pale woman knew what Yennefer truly wanted in life but could never obtain; not that she'd tell her that. "Because you wouldn't be here casting love spells for orgies if you weren't waiting on someone worth your time." Olivia reached over and placed the jug of juice on the armchair of the black-haired woman's throne. "Do we have a deal?" 

Yennefer gave a little haughty laugh and shook her head. "A deal for what exactly. You haven't even proposed a deal worth taking sweetness," she replied with that cocky smirk on her cherry-painted lips.

The traveler took a breath trying to stay calm as she glanced towards the door behind her. "I don't have time for this. I need help with some memory work. It's important, I need you to trust me because I can help you find what you are truly searching for but not unless you help me out okay? So, do we have a deal Yennefer of Vendeburg?" Olivia said impatiently. 

God if this woman wouldn't just agree already she could go ahead and go before those doors open and Geralt walks in with an injured and suffocating Jaskier. As much as Olivia wanted to be there waiting for them she knew her presence would not be wanted. So she had to make this as quick as possible so that she could be on her way and let history play out. 

"Alright, we can talk more later if you are so impatient. Meet me back here in the morning." the mage replied after a moment of thought and a wave of her hand of impatience.

Olivia could have sighed relief but she knew she didn't have the time for emotional reactions. She gave the female mage a nod of agreement before she turned to scuttle back out of this eyesore of a room but she pause before she made it far as if thinking better of it. She turned and swiftly grabbed the apple juice from where she had set it a moment ago. 

"Don't worry, you'll get your apple juice here in a moment," Olivia replied seeing the distaste in the dark-haired mage's eyes. 

The cloaked figure fled from the room then made sure to place the jug right back on the table before she was out the front door just in time too as the back door opened and a familiar pair stumbled in. She didn't know what stopped her from rushing off immediately. But she stopped, hiding behind the half-closed door watching Geralt and Jaskier. Gods Jaskier looked far worse than he did in the TV show. She wanted to go to them and help but she knew she couldn't. They'd made their choice and so had she. She knew Yennefer would help them and Jaskier will be well again in no time if not a little disgruntled. Geralt and Yennefer would have wild sex together after nearly dying from the Djin that nearly kills them and they part ways in the morning. When Geralt and Jaskier leave in the morning after said scene Yennefer will be alone and that's when Olivia will make her appearance to talk more to her about what she needs help on in specifics. But just the thought of what was going to go down here in just a few hours made Olivia's stomach turn. Not because intercourse revolted her but somewhere inside of her she knew it'd hurt her. Her emotional feminine feelings would get crushed because Yennefer and Geralt were meant for each other and Olivia well...jealousy was not a good color on anyone. She closed her eyes a moment to regain her composure and as she opened them again and begin turning to leave as intended. She swore her gaze met Geralt's for that split second it took the door to close and her heart skipped a beat. 

~

She let herself into the mayor's home. The house was a wreck for the most part. Except for the far wing that thankfully was left untouched. The rest of the mayor's home was in shambles and he had already left this place after waking up from Yennefer's freaky spell with a headache and great confusion. Olivia found her there, sitting in the bath of steaming water; gaze zoned out somewhere off to the side as she seemed to be lost in great thought about something as she idly rubbed a sponge along her arm. Olivia knew she could have waited until the mage was done with her bath. But she didn't. Something inside of her told her her presence was needed right now of all times. So here she was. She did not care if the mage was naked beneath the clear water. It would not be the first or the last time Olivia would see a naked woman's body; although she did not look purposefully to stare. Instead, the reality shifter pushed off the doorframe of the bathing room and draped her cloak over the edge of a bench, and rolled her sleeves past her elbows before kneeling beside Yennefer and taking the sponge from her hand. The mage startled and turned to look at her. 

Olivia's gaze softened slightly as she gave a small smile. "I think you look better without all that makeup and cockiness," she commented as she began to gently but persistently scrub at the mage's golden skin of her back. 

"You act differently when you are not around half-naked people." Yennefer commented making Olivia laugh. 

"And you act differently when you aren't trying to be someone you're not," she replied pointedly before adding after a short pause; voice again gentle and understanding as she said. "You'll see him again, don't you worry about that. He isn't hard to ignore. Not a man like Geralt of Rivia." 

Yennefer stilled a little before half turning to face the dark-haired woman. Purple clashed with blue as the mage stared at her searchingly. "How do you know him?"

"I used to travel with him for a few years...Although, it's been quite some time since I've last seen or spoken to him. We did not part ways on good terms." Olivia started worrying the skin of her bottom lip. 

"And how do you know I will see him again?" the mage demanded. Olivia's gaze lifted from her task to see the other's hopeful gaze. 

"I just do." Olivia forced a smile she did not feel to her face before handing back the sponge to the mage. "You can say I know the future," she added making Yennefer frown.

"You do not look like a mage...I cannot sense any chaos or magic within you." 

Olivia's eyes darkened. Of course not, because she was nothing special. Nothing but a burden to others. That's why she left. That's why she forced her heart to shield itself from anyone else that dared knock at its gates for entry. 

"No...I have neither magic nor chaos within me. I'm human...I'm nothing more than human. But I know things. Things that will come to pass and things that have already passed. It's confusing but...if you care to hear my story with an open mind I can tell you how." she turned to face the mage who stared at her with weariness but curiosity boiling behind those violet irises. 

"I'd like to know; tell me," Yennefer demanded.

Olivia stared at her for a long moment before taking a breath in resignation. She knew this would happen. She had mentally prepared herself to tell Yennefer; it was after all the only way the mage would trust her enough to help. 

"Are you sure you'd like to know? It's very unbelievable." Olivia had to confirm if she could trust the mage. Right now, she knew she couldn't but if she told her her story would the other woman trust her or use her? There was only one way to tell at this point so she helped the witch from her bath and allowed her to dress before the two sat in the bathing chambers side by side.

Olivia spilt it all to Yennefer. Not letting go of much more detail than what was needed for the mage to know. She told her how she came from a different reality and that in her world this place was nothing but make-believe. At first, Olivia could tell Yennefer wanted to laugh at her and call her crazy; hell Olivia would have thought the same thing. But the more she talked. The more she described her story the more the truth dawned on the mage. It finally sank home though whenever Olivia told her she knew; describing in great detail just exactly what happened to her to make her the beautiful powerful woman she was. No one outside of the academy knew what Yennefer did and most certainly not a stranger like Olivia. It was a hard pill to swallow that she knew as much by the look in her eyes as Yennefer rose and began pacing the small chambers trying to mull over the information. 

"So, asides from all that...what is it that you are needing from me?" she demanded. "This story is too wild to be true but the fact that you are describing such things is....undeniable." she finally said with shoulders slumping a little as the truth settled in.

Olivia clapped her hands together and leaned them on her legs as she looked down at her feet. "The way I came to this world was by a method called shifting. It's this weird mental projection thing like dream hopping or something that my friend back home described to me. Unfortunately, I was too drunk to realize what I was writing...I don't know if this is scripted out right now or if it's off the books because I can't find those damn pages that I wrote everything on; honestly wasn't expecting to find them here but I can't even remember what was written. I figured you could cast a spell or something to be able to go into my memories. " the dark brunet started looking up at the other.

"I don't know that sort of magic to do that...not without killing you." Yennefer stated after a moment looking regrettable as she said it. "But, there is an ancient way that could help if you'd be willing to try it...the problem is the ingredients for the spell are very hard to come by and are very rare. We'd have to go traveling in search to find them."

She sighed rubbed at her temples. "If it's the only way Yennefer then I'll gladly do it," Olivia replied softly; a voice full of exhaustion eclipsing every syllable.

"Something doesn't sit right here though...I understand that you must return home back to your time but...even a blind person could see that that is not what your heart wants." Yennefer sat beside the older girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't want to go home, do you?"

Olivia looked at her boots with a frown in thought. "I-of course I do! It's my home, my time. I got friends and family back there waiting. It's just..." she trailed off tipping her head to look into those deep violet eyes. "This place seems so much like a dream. Yet, even in this dream-like place...I've never felt more at home." she said softly. 

Yennefer didn't say anything after that, just looked at her with this sort of look that Olivia couldn't describe. "We'll figure it out." Yennefer finally said with a small smile. "Thank you for trusting me."

Olivia forced a small smile in return. "Thank you for believing me." now all she hopes is that she did not just screw herself over by exposing herself to the mage knowing just how vengeful Yennefer of Vendeburg could be. 

Chapter 6 Coming Soon

[wickedw3asleys]

JUST LIKE HEAVEN (Pt.3)

George x female reader (mentions of Fred)

AN: I've had to write this one in a rush so sorry if some of the details are confusing 😔 but i hope you'll like it anyways, and once again, thank you SO SO MUCH for all the positive feedback i'm getting for this serie 🥰

WARNINGS: SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT... Cussing and unprotected sex

Fred never let it show once that something had been happening between you two. It wasn't a secret, but after all, it was private business, and surely he would keep teasing you and flirting with you as he had always done, but no one was asking questions. And to your surprise, you never felt uncomfortable with him about what happened in that bathroom a few days ago. And you loved that it was that way, you wouldn't be able to have to deal with losing him as a friend, and you hoped it also would be that way with George. They never seemed to be jealous of the other either, and during a conversation about the topic the day before, they made you very clear that rivalry would never get between them, also making it better. You wouldn't want to be in the middle of these two and be the motive of a fight between twins.

"Y/N, we absolutely love you, you're our best friend and you've always have been. And we've talked about it...", Fred starts.

"We obviously didn't want this to fail and separate us as friends, or Fred and I as brothers..."

"So that should be the last of your concerns..."

"We just think that you're terribly beautiful and nice, and like you trust us for this, we trust you too!"

And for now, it was totally working. The only thing was that you've haven't had the chance to "win" George as you previously won Fred. But you were working on it, slowly but surely. And apparently Fred had been talking to his brother about your private stuff, which only made him grow eager to fuck you too, and it started to show.

"So, Y/N... How are you today?", George asks casually during breakfast.

"I'm... fine...", you answered, clearly seeing that he had an idea on his mind, "What about you, Georgie?"

"Well, not that good, actually...", he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And why is that, George?", Fred asks. You could hear the fake in his voice, only making you more curious about what they've had planned.

"I don't know... I feel like... Ugh...", George fake acting was so bad but yet so entertaining it made you laugh, "I feel like need to go to bed..."

"Oh, no! You won't be able to come with me to the Hogsmeade trip!", his brother exclaimed.

"What are you talking about, you wanker? You're completely fine...", Ginny says, putting the back of her hand on George's forehead.

"I said I feel ill!", he exclaimed back.

"If you say so...", she sighs, already done with her brothers' bullshit, making everybody laugh at that.

"Come on, George. It can be that bad!", you say.

"I think you should check on me, though...", he says, directing you a discreet wink.

"Why me? I have a trio to go to...", you smile, "I'm going with Hermione and Luna, right?"

"Huh?", Hermione asks, very confused, looking back and forth between you and Ron, "B-but I was going with Ro- Ouch!", she squeaks as you elbow her, "Oh, yes! Right!"

"Well, what a pity, then... I suppose I'll have to ask someone else to check on me...", George says, leaning on the table towards you.

You exchange a few looks before he finally gets up, "Well, if someone needs me I'll be in my dorm, waiting..."

He winks at you one last time and starts leaving the Great Hall, leaving Fred behind.

"He's such an idiot, he's so bizarre...", Ginny says.

"Hey! Respect, young lady!", Fred scolds her.

"Why does he need to have someone checking on him? Isn't he grown enough?", Ron says, showing an entire sandwich in his mouth.

"Well, sometimes the ones you see as big boys are the biggest babies... Right, Fred?", you say, looking at him up and down.

"As you would know...", he says back.

"What is wrong with you?", Ginny exclaims, throwing her fork on the table, "Y/N! You're becoming like them! Please, tell me you're not going to end up like them! I'm not sacrificing our friendship like that!"

"Wow...", you say, "Don't worry, Ginny. I'm not letting them get into me like that... No worries about it"

"We're totally getting into you, though...", Fred says, earning a slap on the forehead by his little sister, "Alright! Sorry!"

All of you continued breakfast as nothing happened, talking and laughing about random things.

"Well, I think it's time to go now...", says Hermione, looking at her watch.

"Yeah, we should get going before McGonagall leaves without us...", Ron starts standing up.

"Since when are you worried about what McGonagall-", Fred starts asking.

"WELL, since I have a wonderful girlfriend that takes the time to do things properly!", he says, taking Hermione by the waist.

All of you started making your way to the court of the castle, waiting for Harry and Luna to join you there.

"Damn it! I forgot something!", you say, looking in your bag, "Go without me! I'll catch you there!"

"Have fun", Fred whispers to your ear as you pass by him.

"I'll do...", you wink back at him, making him bite his lip.

You start running upstairs to the Gryffindor common room, crossing paths with the last students that were heading outside the castle.

The common room was completely empty now, not even George was there. So you decided to head up to his dorm, see if he actually was there.

"Well, took you long enough...", he says from his bed, looking up from his book.

"Sorry, I was hungry...", you say, making your way towards him, "Anyways, I wanted to check on you before I left", you teased him.

"Oh... So you're actually going...", he says, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah... I can't leave Ginny alone between Ron and Hermione and... Fred...", slowly, you started placing you between his legs.

"I thought Harry and Luna were going too...", he starts grabbing the back of your legs, making you come closer to him, "I think she'll be alright..."

His touch on your legs made your whole body shiver, him noticing it, "Are you cold, darling?"

"A little..."

"Well, come here then...", he took you by the hand and helped you straddle him. He brushed a strand of hair away of your face while you placed your hands on the back of his neck, and without any other words, he gently pressed his lips on yours.

You'd expect him to be as eager as his brother, but he completely took his time with you, slowly kissing you. You felt his tongue pressing on your lower lip, making you open your mouth and following his lead.

He put his arms around your back and started caressing you, slowly and sensually, to what you responded by gently grinding on him.

"Eager, are we?", he asked, still against your mouth.

"Always..."

He put his hand on the back of your head and pushed you towards him, deepening the kiss. As you were too focused on his lips, you didn't even notice his free hand starting to lift your sweater.

You lifted up your arms, interrupting the kiss for a second, and when your sweater touched the floor, you went back to George's soft lips.

You moved back a little on his lap, freeing the spot that was covering his dick, and started to massage it through his pajama pants, surprised by the fact that he wasn't wearing boxers.

You could feel his already hard cock hardening even more at your touch, making you the eager one to taste him. So without warnings, you got on your knees between his legs and helped him take off his pants.

He wasn't as big as his brother, but he surely was a little bit longer, and that sight made it hard for you to imagine to make it fit entirely in your mouth.

You never stopped looking at him in the eye, not even when licking the first straps of his dick, which made he loudly breathe. You took it as a sign to go more on him, so you took a deep breath and directly deepthroating him, fitting your hand around his base.

"Oh, fuck...", he moaned, throwing his head back.

That made you smile with his dick in your mouth and encouraged you to keep going, pushing it a little bit further in your throat. You could feel the discomfort of his tip brushing against the back of your throat, but the sounds that were escaping his lips and the grip he had on your hair made ir all worth it.

You released him for a second, only to go back and bob your head up and down at sensual pace, sometimes leaving licks here and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... You're so good...", he moans.

The fact that he was rather a moaner than a groaner only made your wetness grow. You've always thought a moaning men was hotter.

After a few more movements, you got back up and went back to his lips, allowing him to taste himself too. Without breaking the kiss, he guided you on the bed, where he got on top of you. His hands started roaming all over your stomach, sides and torso, enjoying every single bit of your skin. Enjoying this intimate moment. George liked to take his time, enjoy the moment and make sure you're enjoying it as much as him...

He slowly started to take off your annoying skirt, followed by your panties, only leaving you in your thigh highs socks.

"What's with the socks?", you asked him, crooking an eyebrow.

"Be a good girl and don't ask...", he says, attacking your lips again.

You smile to your insides; you've always knew George had a thing for the high school uniforms... including high thighs socks...

He took away his t-shirt and as you were both naked, he leaned on you a put a single sheet over your bodies.

His hand made its way to your core, where he took the time to take your wetness and spread it all over it with his fingers.

"Look at how wet you already are... All that because of me?", he smirked.

"No, it's because of your lovely daddy", you said, mocking him.

"Ah, ah... Lower you tone with me, sweetheart...", he tsked, and suddenly he introduced two fingers in your pussy, "otherwise it won't end up good for you..."

He started to pump in a out of you as his mouth made it's way back to you neck and jaw, where he never stopped kissing.

"Fuck, George... Yes...", you whispered.

"You like that, darling?", he whispered back in your ear.

"Yesssss...", you slowly started to arch your back and his fingers started to curl inside you.

George took that as a signal to add a third finger. Your face contorted at the discomfort but it soon disappeared, only leaving an extreme pleasure.

He never pulled back from your ear, whispering sweet and nasty things in it while he ferociously pumped in and out of your pussy with his fingers.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!", you moaned loudly.

His hand accelerated its pace, making you hear your own wetness, and you could feel your walls start to tighten around his fingers.

"Are you going to cum, sweetheart? Huh?"

"Yes! FUCK!", once again your back arched and your hand met your clit, quickly rubbing it, but George slapped your fingers, replacing them with his.

"That's my job...", he says, fingers knuckles deep inside you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! George! FUCK! I'm cumming!", you screamed, bringing your hands to your hair, pulling it roughly.

While he rocked you orgasm with his fingers inside you, he made sure to leave a few new marks on your neck, as to say "George was here".

You regained your breath and when you opened your eyes again, you met the gaze of a lustful George towering over you. You took him by the neck and made him sit down against his headboard, you sitting on his lap. You started kissing him again, passionately and full of hunger. You took his dick in your hand and pumped it a few times before rubbing it against your wet pussy, spreading your wetness all over him, making him groan in your mouth.

Without notice, you got up on your knees and slowly sunk down his shaft, letting you a few seconds to adjust to his length. You looked at his face; lower lip between his teeth, pupils dilated and messy hair all over his forehead, it was the most beautiful image of George you've ever had. Seeing all the lust in his eyes, you decided to not waste more time and started to slowly bounce together on his bed, and moving your pelvis to meet his. Both you and him were a moaning mess, only hearing your voices and your wetness in the room. Lucky you were that no one would be back for a while to his dorm, so you could take all the time you wanted.

George's back was against his headboard, and small moans were escaping his mouth as he embraced you and helped you bouncing and getting back and forth on his dick. Both of you grabbing on each other hard, you bouncing on his cock and him thrusting upwards.

"Fuck, George... You feel so so good... Oh my god...", you moaned, throwing your head back and finding support on his shoulders. Once again, feeling your walls clench around him.

"Turn around, darling...", he commanded you.

You did as he pleaded without asking, pulling him out of your pussy and turning your body around, still sitting on his lap. He slowly raised your body so you were on your knees, your back against his chest. This new position making his cock curve in the perfect spots.

"SHIT!", you moaned.

"Come on, I've got you...", he says, sliding he arm around your stomach, giving you support and enough stability for him to roughly thrust upwards.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!!", you quickly managed to moan.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the amazing feeling that was rushing through your body. You expected George to stop his relentless pace, but he didn't, fully overstimulating you, making your orgasm last forever.

"Shit... I can't stop cumming... FUCK!", you difficulty breathed out, making George smirk. "Is that so, darling?", he asked, bringing his hand down to your clit and starting to massage it quickly.

You froze in place while he was attacking you with his fingers and let out a silent scream.

"Oh god... Oh god... FUCK, GEORGE!", you moaned as you felt your walls starting to clench around his dick.

"Are you going to cum again for me?", he smirked.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!", you nearly screamed, feeling something explode inside you and making you see the stars. George started thrusting upwards into your pussy again, helping you chase your orgasm. The overstimulation was so good you couldn't even stop yourself from riding him and taking more of him every time.

"More?", he asked, speaking against your temple, "You want more, sweetheart? You're insaciable, I love it..."

You could even think straight. The intimacy you and him were sharing and the many times you had come by now where making it impossible to even think about what you were doing, you were too focused on how good George was making you feel.

He took advantage of your fucked up state and decided to spice things up a little bit; he took you by the waist and slowly laid you down on the mattress, putting you under him, facing him so he could admire you in your perfect messed up state. He never pulled out of you. He adjusted your hips to be at the perfect angle, and put his arms around your thighs.

"Say you can't stop cumming? Let's see how this feels...", he says before slamming inside you again.

You loudly moaned at the new angle and the feeling of him being balls deep inside you. He was railing the shit out of you in this new position and you could hear his bed slamming against the wall, following his rhythm.

George smirked between his uneven breaths as he felt you clench again around him, knowing how good he was making you feel. He adjusted again his angle, tightening his grip on your thighs and slowing his thrusts, but he never stopping his hard pace, always hitting the correct spots.

You unconsciously took your hand to your clit and started rubbing it hard. You couldn't stop cumming and you didn't want to stop. George was making you feel way too good for that, so you wanted to enjoy every single crumb he would give you of him.

"Yes, like that, sweetheart...", he groaned, "Another one for me..."

His moans and groans were like music in your ears, and hearing him groan louder when he felt your release only made your orgasm a hundred times more powerful for you.

"Come here...", George said, laying back against his headboard again with you on his lap, "You're doing it so good, darling... So good..."

You put your head in the crook of his neck, not having enough strength to even hold your head up. The boy put his hand on the back of your neck, thrusting hard in you.

"Fuuuuuucccckkkkkk...", you let out a long moan.

George embraced you again, this time tighter than before, and you knew he was close.

Your pussy was so sensitive by now that you couldn't even prepare for the new orgasm that washed over your body. George heard you quietly cry of pleasure and that brung him to his end. He swore to himself you were going to be the death of him as he chased his own release. He let out the sweetest moans and you knew he had finished.

He put a gently kiss on your forehead and slowly lifted you off his dick, sitting you again on his lap, feeling his now soft cock under your swollen pussy.

"Are you okay?", he asks, brushing your hair with his fingers.

You hummed, not able to form words yet. He slowly chuckled at that, "Do you need a minute?"

"Yeah...", you answered quietly.

He let you stay still on his lap until you were able to correctly breathe and think again, now not believing how good the sex was.

"Wow...", you chuckled.

"No exaggeration, that was the best sex I've ever had", George says.

You look at him dead in the eye, "Are you and your brother even real?", you ask, completely outraged, "It's not fair!"

George laughed, "What is not fair?"

"THIS! Are you a sort of sex demons or something like that?!", he laughed again.

"Unfortunately no... We just wanted to rail the shit out of you for ages, I suppose."

"Oh, Merlin...", you felt dizzy again, and the thought of them fucking you this hard again only made you more excited for the future. Now was the time when you swore this was the best idea they could ever have had. "I'm so glad you guys asked mento do this, you have no idea..."

You left a quick kiss on George's lips and got up to get dressed, but your legs terribly failed you and almost made you fall ass flat on the floor.

"Oh, wow...", George chuckled, admiring you from his bed.

"You shut up. It's your fault!"

"Yeah, I know...", he winks at you.

You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance and supporting you on his dresser, you could manage to get your skirt on. You made your way to the nearest mirror, watching your body as you adjusted your sweater and your hair. You could see the hickeys Fred had left a few days prior to this encounter with his brother, and next to them almost identical fresh hickeys where now starting to form, making you smile for yourself.

"I have to go, it seems like we've stayed here long enough for Hermione to start asking where I am...", you say, putting on your shoes.

"Okay, I'll see you at lunch, darling."

You flew him a kiss from the door and rushed out of his room, directly going outside the castle; and once again, smiling to yourself at the thought of what you've had done. Hoping this would keep going for a little while...

[tryingmybestpls]

Not A Team: Part 2- New World Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader gives a speech at the opening of Steve’s exhibit and has a talk with Sam following his speech.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, talks of death, talks of mental illness, feelings of isolation

Read Part One here

Listen to the playlist inspired by the series here

Y/N felt like coming here today was a mistake.

Her stomach tossed and turned like a stormy sea, threatening to send her breakfast all over Rhodey's shiny shoes. She was second guessing everything. Was her dress nice enough? Rhodey had told her she looked great, but she hadn't worn a dress since Steve's funeral-Oh God, what if he was lying to her? No, he wouldn't lie to her-but what if he felt bad? Jesus, dd her shoes look stupid? Maybe she shouldn't have worn heels-but then she always wore heels with dresses and if she wore flats that would look childish. Did her speech sound coherent? Fuck, what if she messes up. Would they think she was doing it on purpose out of retribution for what Steve did? No, they didn't know what Steve did, what he had done to her. What if-

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? You look like you're going to blow chunks." Rhodey cuts through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He puts his hand on her back, "Breathe, Y/N."

"Maybe this a bad idea, Rhodey. I mean they have Sam. I think Sam can handle this." She stumbles over her words, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and she swore her hands were shaking,

"You're going to be okay, but you need to relax. I've read and reread your speech a dozen times. It's perfect." Rhodey tries to soothe her, his hand rubbing her back. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, working on slowing her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Hey pretty lady, I was wondering where the exhibit is. I'm supposed to be giving a speech there today." A voice calls out, sending Y/N's eyes flying open. She turns on her heels, being greeted by the sight of Sam walking towards them, holding the leather case that carries the shield. Y/N can feel the tension melting out of her shoulders as a smile spreads across her nervous face.

"Rhodey, I think they might be letting anyone speak here today." Y/N teases, the anxiousness slipping away, releasing its hold on her. Rhodey chuckles, shaking his head at his friend's antics. She hadn't seen Sam since the days following Steve's funeral and right now, he's a welcome sight. Sam rests his hand over his heart, feigning hurt as he gets closer.

"You wound me, woman." Sam jokes, smiling right back at her. They embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as his go around her waist, "I missed you, kid."

"I've missed you too, Sammy." She murmurs back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. They pull away and Sam smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Rhodey clears his throat, gently touching Y/N's upper arm.

"Hey I need to go talk to some people, alright?" Rhodey announces, almost as if he is asking permission. Y/N just smiles and nods, the smile staying on her face until he walks away from the two.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Sam questions, to which Y/N sighs, looking down at her shoes.  She stays quiet for a moment, feeling his eyes on her.

"You want the truth or you want me to tell you what I tell Rhodey?" She replies, looking back at him. Y/N shifts from one foot to another, glad they were far from the crowd that was gathering. He gives her a look, giving her an answer without opening his mouth. She sighs again, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"I don't sleep, not really. I get maybe an hour a night if I am lucky. I-The house is filled with boxes that I can't unpack because-" Her voice cracks, her chest rising and falling quickly. She bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to not cry, "I thought that leaving the apartment would make him go away, but it didn't."

"Well Steve was always stubborn." Sam responds, making a laugh bubble out of her throat before she could stop it. There was an "I'm sorry" buried in the joke and Y/N knew it, but decided to only focus on the joke.

-

The stage looked daunting.

She forced herself up those steps, the person who had introduced her still had his hand outstretched towards her. Y/N wondered if she could make a run for it. Sure people will be mad at her, but she won't be forcing herself through this. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the clapping nothing but a ringing in her ears. For a moment, her eyes landed on the giant banner of her husband, a lump forming in her throat. He was watching over her, his face emotionless as his eyes seemingly followed her every step. Cameras flashed as she stood on the stage, striding over to the podium. Once she stood in front of it, a hush fell over the crowd.

Y/N Rogers had saved thousands of lives. She was an Avenger and had faced countless foes. Hell, her wedding had more people in attendance than this event, but she still felt sick to her stomach. Y/N gave them all a smile as she forced herself to calm down, swallowing hard before speaking.

"To say that Steve Rogers was a special man is putting lightly. He was a hero that many of us, myself included, aspired to be one day. And while many of you only knew him as Captain America, I was among the lucky few that got to know him just as Steve Rogers. Now I could stand up here and tell you about every battle he won, how valiantly he fought-but everyone else is going to do that. Hell, you can read about it in the exhibit." Y/N chuckles, blinking away the tears in her eyes as the crowd laughs.

Y/N finds Rhodey and Sam in the crowd, both of them giving her smiles of encouragement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the diamond on her wedding ring sparkling in the light. It's the first time she's worn it in a while, but it felt almost right to wear it. Once again, she's pretending like Steve didn't leave her. No, Y/N is ignoring that completely, almost blissfully. These people only know Steve as Captain America, as a god-damned American hero. She isn't going to tarnish that, won't ruin his legacy. And regardless of what Steve did to her, she is still in love with him and she wants to talk about the man she fell in love with, not the one that hurt her. Y/N inhales and exhales shakily before continuing.

"Steve was so much more than just Captain America. He was my best friend and my husband. He was the type of man to pick up flowers for you just because. The type of man to tell you that you looked really pretty even though you were covered in dirt and ash. He would let me go on and on about things that didn't even matter, but with the way he paid attention you would think that I was telling him the secrets of the world. Steve loved staying in and having movie marathons-he-he had a list he'd carry with him to write down things he needed to learn about. Before we dated, he would text me randomly, asking me why Jar Jar Binks is hated so much or asking me to explain what emojis are. He never quite got the hang gof the latter." A laugh comes out of Y/N's mouth, the crowd following suit. There was a smile on her face, a warmth spreading in her chest.

"He's the man I'll be in love with until the day I die, but then I'll fall in love all over again because I'll be able to see him again. Steve was the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met and while I will always wish we had more time together, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. We were all lucky to have him." Y/N pauses again, her throat constricting with emotion, "Even though he's gone, Steve lived a long life-a life longer than some of us get and I am happy that so many different facets of his life is going to be explored and shared with so many people. I hope you all enjoy the exhibit. Thank you."

The applause that followed was almost thunderous. Y/N smiled as her heart slammed against her ribcage, cameras flashing as she made her way off the stage. She was glad it was finally over as she moved to stand next to Rhodey and Sam. Sam kissed her cheek before he climbed up the stairs to the stage. Rhodey rubbed her back, telling her quietly that she did great. She just nodded in response, her eyes on her friend, watching as Sam leaned the shield against the plexiglass podium.

"Thank you Y/N for making my job a lot harder." Sam teases, causing everyone to chuckle. Y/N smiles right back at him, shaking her head as her friend carries on, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered poising stoically. "

Sam's a natural at this, standing up there like its nothing. And while Y/N should be focused on the speech, her eyes keep drifting down to the shield at his feet.

"The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing," Sam chuckles, picking up the shield, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy, but also, we look to the future. So thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

Y/N feels sick to her stomach as she watches Sam hand the shield off. Her chest feels tight and she-she can't be here. There's a ringing on her ears and she can't breathe. Y/N pushes through the crowd, not bothering with pleasantries as she does it. A dozen emotions rack her body, causing her hands to start to heat up. She forces it down, deep down as she walks into an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Sam gave away the shield.

He gave it away.

Like it was nothing.

And she wants to scream, wants to cry, but it won't come out. Y/N won't let it, not now when she is still in public. She walks over to the sinks, her hands gripping the counter. Her eyes are rimmed with red, eyes all watery. Her red painted lips press into a thin line as she forces herself to not cry, practically glaring at her reflection. What did her therapist tell her to do? Ah yes, breath in and out. In and out.

This was all too much way too soon. She couldn't handle this. She was being bombarded with memories and emotions already and now Sam giving the shield away? She felt like she was going to lose it. A part of her felt like she was overreacting. overthinking this whole situation. And maybe she was. Y/N did that from time to time. Tony had told her she was an expert of making mountains out of molehills. Maybe Sam just didn't want to be Captain America, didn't want to shoulder that burden. That was understandable. It was a shitty, shitty job-one that Sam didn't ask for. He shouldn't be forced to take on the mantle of Captain America, not when the previous owner had tossed it away so carelessly.

Yet, the bigger part of her was incredibly upset. Angry at the fact that Sam handed off the shield to be shelved in a museum. Overwhelmed by the amount of Steve that was everywhere. Confused over the multitudes of feeling that were swarming her body.

And there was nothing she could do about any of them. She just had to grin and bear it, just like she's been doing since Steve decided he much rather spend an entire lifetime with a woman he knew for a few months. So Y/N collected herself, blinked away her tears, and left the bathroom. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the one place she didn't want to be.

The exhibit.

Steve's image is plastered on every single surface, telling the details of every part of his life. Scrawny Steve, bootcamp Steve, darling icon of patriotism during the war Steve, frozen Steve, Battle of Manhattan Steve, cartoon Steve punching Hitler, Steve during Sokovia, Steve on the run. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. He covers every single square inch, which makes sense because this is his exhibit. And while Y/N knows she should just turn on her heel and not put herself through it, she throws caution to the wall. She's already incredibly upset, so she might as well pour gallons and gallons of salt and lemon juice into that open wound.  So she forces herself deeper into the exhibit, running straight into the very last man she wants to see at this moment.

"You know I wasn't expecting to find you here." Sam tells her as soon as her foot enters the next room. She keeps her mouth shut, so he adds "Rhodey is looking for you."

"You know on his right sleeve of his suits, right near his wrist, he had my initials stitched. He told me he wanted to carry a piece of me into every mission, into every fight." Y/N announces as she looks at a picture of Steve on a mission, most likely taken by Natasha. Sam sighs, walking over to her, wanting her to see his point of view.

"Look I know you're upset-" He starts, but is immediately cut off by a dry chuckle slipping out of Y/N's mouth as she walks around the room. She wants to lay in to him, wants to give him a piece of her mind.

"Oh I am far past the point of being "just upset", Wilson. It wasn't yours to give away. I-I don't care if you didn't want the mantle, but..." Her angry words trail off once she realizes what part of the exhibit she has reached, her face dropping.

Y/N stops in front of a part of the exhibit labeled 'Two Heroes United'. Her eyes roam over the pictures of her and Steve's wedding and the pictures taken throughout the duration of their relationship, so much more than what the file Rhodey had left detailed. So many smiles, so much happiness filling each and every picture. Her facade is cracking, chipping away as she forces herself to study every picture, studying their faces over and over, trying to see if there was something she had missed, if-if there was something she could have said or done to hold onto him a little longer. If there was something hidden behind his smile, behind his touches, they don't reveal themselves in the photographs.

She's just a footnote in his life, a blurb at the end of a long story. A tool to make him look like an all-American family man. Bucky and Sam had much larger parts of the exhibit dedicated to their roles in Steve's life and who they are outside of being Steve's friends. Y/N-well Y/N gets this, a paragraph saying that she was on the team and then married Steve. She is just haphazardly tacked onto the story of his life, a cute story to make people feel all warm inside. He got his happily ever after, they'll say-or they'll whisper to one another God she was so lucky to have him. They won't ask if she got her happily ever after or if she feels lucky now.

Sam got to hand off the shield, got to throw away the title of Captain America. He gets to keep on living his life after this, but Y/N-Y/N will always be Steve's wife. And it doesn't matter how many people she saved or what she did with her time on earth, she will only be know for being the wife of the man who abandoned her. Y/N's tied to him for eternity, stuck loving a man who decided to love someone else.

And then, just like that, something inside of her just snaps. Her facade fully crumbles, leaving her unable to mask what she's going through.  Y/N's eyes fill up with tears and she's unable to blink them away before they spill over the edge, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. And as she stood there, crying in the middle of the exhibit dedicated to Steven Grant Rogers, a depressing epiphany popped into her mind.

The shield was the last part of Steve that she had that wasn't tainted in some way, a piece of him that she could still bear to see. And Sam had just given it away, leaving her with nothing but memories that would haunt her.

-

"I watched your speech. You did really good, Y/N." Her therapist praises, giving her a soft smile. Y/N nods, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She had decided to start wearing it again, even though her feelings about Steve were still conflicted. While a part of her thought that this meant she was healing, Y/N knew it was more likely tied to the fact that Sam had given up the shield.

"It-It felt good." Y/N replies, shifting in her seat. She had thought it was a subtle movement, but Dr. Raynor gave her a look. After a few months of court-ordered appointments, the therapist knew Y/N all too well and she sure as hell knew when Y/N wasn't telling the truth.

"Something is upsetting you. What happened?" The doctor questions, clicking her pen. Y/N dreaded the noise. It meant a longer session, more bandaids being ripped off in order to force the wounds into the light. It would mean she would return to her home a little colder, a little emptier.

"Nothing happened. It-I had a good day. A good week." Y/N tries to reassure her, even going as far as to give her what she thought was a honest smile. Dr. Raynor held up her pad of paper, making a show of slowly bring the pen down to the paper. Y/N's smile falls and she looks down at her hands, letting out a small sigh.

"He-Sam gave away the shield. He gave it away like it was nothing." The ex-hero announces, feeling like a scolded child. Raynor lowers her pen and paper, settling back into her seat.

"And you feel like he shouldn't have?"

"No. No, Steve-Steve chose him. Steve gave him the shield because he knew that Sam was good, that Sam could handle it. And-And Sam just gave it away." Y/N stammers, picking at a thread that was hanging off her shirt.

"You know, I think that is the first time you have said his name aloud." Raynor mentions, causing Y/N to stop her movements. The thread is caught between her fingers, pulled taut. The doctor continues, "You always refer to Steve as 'he' or 'him' or 'my husband'. You never say his name."

"I don't think I was ready to be around...Steve. Not that much." Y/N tries to shift the focus, shame filling her, her face feeling hot. She knows she has her reasons not to say his name, but she still felt terrible about not being able to say his name.

"But you still spoke at the opening of his exhibit. I'm sure everyone would more than understand why you couldn't. So why did you decide on speaking?" The therapist asks, taking down a couple notes of her pad of paper. Y/N stays silent for a moment, letting go of the thread to start twisting her ring again.

"I-I don't know. Rhodey asked me and I-I guess I thought I could do it. And the speech wasn't bad I just-I wasn't expecting Sam to give away the shield." Y/N responds, her voice soft. She feels so small, sitting here on this charcoal grey couch. Y/N almost felt...stupid for being so angry at Sam. It wasn't his fault at all and as Y/N said everything out loud, she felt like such an asshole.

"If you would've known that Sam wanted to give the shield away, would you have stopped him?" Dr. Raynor replies, leaning forward slightly as she takes a few notes. Y/N feels herself sinking into the couch.

"I don't know. I-I wish he would have just told me so that we could've talked about it." She answers, looking out of the window. Dark grey clouds filled the sky, blocking out a lot of the sunlight that wanted to shine down on the city. Y/N didn't know if she would have actually forced him to keep the shield. That wasn't on him to have hold on to hat chunk of vibranium. It was wrong for Steve to have thrown that all on Sam. What would be the alternative? For her to keep the shield? Y/N highly doubted that the United States government would allow that.

-

Y/N was watering her garden when her phone started to ring in her back pocket. She quickly moves to shut off the water hose before she slips the phone about her pocket. Sam's name and picture appears on her screen, making uneasiness fill her stomach. Y/N exhales through her noise loudly before answering it, holding the phone against her ears.

"Have you seen the news?" Sam asks, not even letting her get a single syllable out.

"No, I've been outside-What's going on, Sam?" Y/N questions, making her way to the house. Something was definitely wrong. Sam never called her unless it was for emergencies. if they did communicate, it was mainly through texting. Her heartbeat started to race, as did her thoughts. A million different scenarios filled her head, each one worse than the last.

"You need to turn on the news right now." Sam replies as she opens the back door, quickly crossing the kitchen and walking into the living room. Her hands are almost shaking as she picks up the remote, turning the television on. Luckily for her, the last thing she had been watching was the news. Unluckily for her, she was greeted with a man holding the shield-Steve's shield, dressed in what looked like an off-brand, shitty version of the Captain America suit.

Anger filled her body. It had been four days tops since Sam handled off the shield and already, they had found their 'new Captain America'. The man in question was smiling smugly in the ill-fitting suit, waving at the camera, holding onto his shield tightly. God, Y/N wanted to beat the shit of the man and every single person who had okayed this. She could only hear bits and pieces of the speech as the news replayed it, but even that bullshit was too much for her to handle. She muted the television, tossing the remote on the couch.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/N exclaims, her hands getting warm. The Avenger was unable to get to anything articulate as rage filled her. She quickly put the phone on speaker, setting the device down just in case her hands caught flame.

"I know. I know. It's fucking bullshit." Sam replies, sighing. Y/N paced in front of the television, trying to calm herself down before she burned a hole through her rug. On the screen, the fake Cap was talking about something, a saccharine smile spread across his face. Y/N wanted to take that God damn shield and smash his teeth in.

"That asshole has my husband's fucking shield. They-He isn't supposed to be Captain America, okay? It's just not-It's not theirs to give away." Y/N's voice cracks towards the end, tears filling her eyes. While she wasn't Steve's number one fan, she hated that they had already chose someone to take up his title. If Sam wasn't going to be Captain America, then no one should be Captain America.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wouldn't have given away the shield if I would've known...I'm sorry." Sam murmurs over the phone. Y/N covers her face with her almost glowing hands as she tries to control her breathing, not able to respond to Sam’s apologies. Her sadness and anger quickly shifted into something else. 

Something inside of her switched on, something that she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she was a hero, back when she was an Avenger.

Y/N wanted to go to work.

------

Not A Team taglist (if you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

@lady-elena-adeline​ @simonedk​ @hersilencedscreams​ @rqmanoff​

[omegasamwilson]

I literally had a panic attack when I watched Ayo take off Bucky's arm. I was born without my left arm and see a lot of myself in Bucky. I have a prosthetic and had to stop the episode and watch it later. And it really hurt me to see your completely disregard that and say I have no right to be upset. It really pisses me off. I'm fully acknowledging that Bucky did a terrible thing, and he needed to be stopped. But she didn't have to remove his arm. He wouldn't have hurt her. To see you refer to his arm in the tags as a weapon further hurt me. It's not a fucking weapon, it's his fucking arm. You're trying to twist this into a race issue when it's about fucking ableism. I'm brown not black so I don't know if you'll accept my concerns with your post

Hi, one, I apologize for what is sure to be a very long and very frustrated statement. But I’m dealing with a lot of shit rn (actually related to race and ableism specifically) but I wanted to respond because my ADHD ass will forget otherwise.

Okay. One, you say “he wouldn’t have hurt her.”

We, the audience, knows that. Ayo did not. What she knows is that the man before her was an assassin and sniper, even before he was captured and forced to kill by HYDRA. He was a WWII sniper and seemed to be quite skilled (I’m going to assume that’s one of the reasons HYDRA tried to experiment on him and picked him to he the winter soldier.) In any case, this newly reformed (and at the time, just barely reformed. As in, he was healed a month, maybe two months before the events of infinity war. So he’s been healed for a whopping seven months.) This newly reformed assassin, who had been the victim of either chemical or otherwise mental subjugation freed a terrorist from prison.

Not only did he free a terrorist from prison, he freed a terrorist that was obsessed with HYDRA. If any terrorist knew a back door to unlock the winter soldier again, it would be Baron Zemo, who knew each and every one of HYDRA’s secrets.

While Shuri is definitely brilliant, it’s entirely possible that HYDRA buried a safety within their “asset” just in case he was able to break his programming. It’s entirely possible that it was so well buried amongst the labyrinth that is the brain that even Shuri couldn’t find it. After all, Shuri isn’t a neuroscientist, and the brain is largely regarded as the final frontier. So it’s entirely possible that she missed buried programming.

So, we have a person that got rid of HYDRA’s programming seven months ago that just freed one of the only people on the planet that could have the information that could potentially reactivate the winter soldier. And THEN, we have a video of this man “acting” as the winter soldier in madripoor. This was uploaded on the internet and I’m assuming that Ayo saw it.

What proof does Ayo have that he won’t hurt her? That she won’t weaponize his arm and hurt her? What proof does she have that he’s not under Zemo’s control, that Zemo can’t control him in a second. The only thing she knows are that Bucky Barnes freed a terrorist that had access to all of HYDRA’s information, the terrorist appeared to control the winter soldier in madripoor, and it is entirely possible that there is buried programming designed to deactivate the winter soldier.

She deactivates it, realizes he’s fully in control of himself and says, “bast damn you, James.” As in, “fuck you for freeing a terrorist and acting like it isn’t a big deal. You are clearly acting on your own accord in this.”

And yes, it’s different being Black vs. being Brown. It isn’t to say that racism and ableism don’t intersect with Brown folks because obviously it does.

But l specifically asked for Black opinions bc of the demonization of Black folks, especially the trope of “big scary Black women” or “big scary Black men.”

It’s ironic I see this today when I have a story that is so relevant and anger inducing.

I work with white parents of Black children, usually through adoption since I work primarily with lgbt parents, but I do have some cis het white parents raising Black biological kids. One of the parents and friends got into it today because her autistic Black child got into it with their sibling (also disabled). The sibling intentionally triggered their older sibling and punched them and it escalated to the point where the bigger sibling finally reacted and shoved the younger sibling. It broke the younger kid’s glasses. The youngest is legally blind and needs very expensive and specific prescription classes to even have 20/40 vision.

The mom called the police on her child and the kid was arrested and charged. She is 15. Mom described the kid as aggressive and awful and terrible and all sorts of names. A ww called the police on her Black 15 year old child having a meltdown. And she played into stereotypes that Black people, Black women, are aggressive/scary/angry. A ww could’ve gotten her child killed for having a meltdown because she broke a white child’s disability aid.)

A ww couldve gotten her child killed because she played into anti-Black stereotypes. That white people need protection from them. Even when the white child was initially the aggressor in the scenario.

Sure, it’s different, but it plays to the same stereotypes. Poor white disabled person needs protection from the aggressive scary Black person, and we’re just going to assume that the Black person was being unnecessarily aggressive because it plays into all of the stereotypes about Black people. No, there’s no way that this Black person was making a decision based on a series of evidence that could point to them genuinely being harmed.

(By the way, in the scenario of the two kids, I think they both needed help and support, and that the police shouldn’t have been called period.)

Nope, it’s just an aggressive Black person being ableist.

The same systems that have everyone seeing Bucky as a cute little uwu cinnamon roll in need of protection are what caused everyone to see Ayo as an aggressive ableist Black woman. White people usually get the benefit of the doubt. The best intentions are believed even when the evidence clearly says otherwise.

The evidence Ayo had indicated that she had no idea whether the winter soldier could’ve been reactivated and whether or not Bucky could’ve been under zemo’s control. She had no idea. None. She made a decision based off that information. And the fact that Bucky didn’t react strongly indicated that he was acting on his own accord.

Mayhaps, Ayo might even have been trying to trigger the winter soldier. I just thought of this but it makes sense. That the WS would react very defensively and even potentially deadly to that level of fighting, even if his previous orders were different.

In any case, this situation isn’t comparable to every day disabled people because our disability aids to not double as weapons. Most people can’t do more harm with a prosthetic limb than they can with a regular limb. Bucky can. Bucky’s arm is also a weapon and that fact complicates matters considerably. If bucky’s arm were simply a regular arm with typical strength, it’d be a no brainer situation. But it’s not. We don’t know the wakanda enhancements of his arms, but we know in the comics, he could kill with a single punch using his arm. He uses his arm tactically to map his surroundings. He uses his arm to send off EMPs that can disabled weaponry. It even has a retractable blade for close combat. It is a disability aid that it also a weapon. It was designed to be a weapon. The normal conversations around disability aids don’t fit it because no one today has a disability aid that could kill someone in seconds and even cause larger scale damage with a targeted EMP.

And finally, I want to say this, I am truly sorry that you had a panic attack while watching the episode. That is never fair and it’s never fun to be triggered by television shows.

I do hope this helped to better explain and clarify my perspective.

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt.3 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Before you read you should know that I adjusted the timeline a little, all mistakes in the timeline that you are noticing are on purpose. Also I decided to let johnny keep his black Cobra Kai car in that one. Then I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I lowkey drifted away from the actual request but don’t worry, I’m coming back to that. It’s the second last part to this little series. Enjoy.

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, ANGST, a little fluff

Wordcount: 2650

"Jesus Christ, (Y/N), thank god you're finally here!" was the first thing you heard from Jenny as soon as you set foot into the bar for yet another late shift on a boring Thursday night.

"We've been waiting for you for hours!" Jenny said and grabbed your arm dragging you further inside. You were staggered, "What the fuck, Jen, I'm not even late, I know I was yesterday but I'm perfectly on time today! Look," you pointed towards a clock on the wall "8 pm sharp."

"Jesus, don't you ever check your phone?" she went on ignoring you. And as a matter of fact, you didn't. You trashed it a couple of days ago as a result of a drunk rage after another shift without your favourite regular. That's why you've been borrowing your colleague’s phone to call yourself an Uber home. But that was still not helping you understand why you were needed so much. Apparently, the bar was waiting for your arrival since the opening at last. In the distance, behind the almost empty counter you saw the staff door opening and Kenny making his way to you in a quick pace.

"She's is here!" Jenny called out to him as if he wasn't able to see that for himself.

"Finally."

"What the fuck?" you asked again, trying to think of all the things you could've done wrong in the past weeks, but you couldn't find any. You never messed up a drink, you always locked the doors, you even cleaned the puke in the men's bathroom. "Am I in trouble?"

Kenny shook his head, you looked at him quizzically.

"It's about your boyfriend," Jenny helped him out answering. You almost blurted out 'He's not my boyfriend' as it was already on the tip of your tongue because you were so deeply conditioned to say that. But when your glance skipped over the almost empty seats by the counter again, your heart suddenly skipped a beat and when it was back at keeping you alive it started beating so hard against your ribs as if it was about to burst. Johnny was back.

"He's been here since we opened at 5," Kenny said, sounding a little annoyed "He's drunk off his ass, came in drunk already, and refuses to leave until he sees you. We tried to throw him out but he's one persistent motherfucker and lowkey aggressive, muttering your name saying he needs to talk to you and nobody else."

"Yeah, maybe you should go and talk to him" Jenny affirmed. But you were already on your way. Without a word you almost stormed over.

At first you wouldn't have noticed him. He didn't look like himself, sitting there on his regular seat at the end, head hanging, covered by his hands. He looked rough.

The two weeks he didn't show himself, you almost started hating him. You thought him to be like any other man on earth who, after they broke you, finally got you to get soft towards them, waking your interest after hundreds of times trying, just disappeared without a trace. First you were blaming yourself, asking yourself if you went too far with your little game of pretend, whilst still waiting every day for him.  Had it been too much for him saving you the other day and getting his face bashed in for you? You wished he'd come and tell you what a bitch he thought you were to your face. Then you despised him for giving you up so quickly. But as soon as you laid eyes on him all these negative thoughts disappeared, and you were just concerned. Concerned about his condition, only the question inside your head how on earth you, a simple barkeeper, were able to help him with that. You grabbed a bottle of whisky and simply headed to the other side of the counter, not standing in front but sitting next to him this time. The worst about it, he didn't even take notice of you at first.

"Johnny," you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Like being electrocuted by this touch, he winced but finally looked up. You almost gasped at his appearance. Normally he was always clean shaven, now he looked like hadn't shaved in days. Besides that, he was also hurt. At first you thought his injuries might still be from his encounter with the three men that were bothering you, but the scratches and bruises were fresh, and a band aid was sticking to his forehead that wasn't needed before. Johnny blankly stared at you from his bloodshot eyes and you suddenly felt the urge to hug him. But you resisted, first you had to get him to talk. Instead, you grabbed two of the glasses in front of Johnny uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured you one. You took a sip of the burning liquid hoping for some courage to miraculously appear as you watched Johnny silently drinking, too.

Kenny walked by on the way back to his office, judgingly eyeing you.

"Damn, I have to start taking all the booze you're drinking here from your paycheck, (Y/N), slow the fuck down, would you?" he said sighing with one foot already inside. Out of a sudden Johnny snapped.

"Jesus Kenny, don't wet your precious leather pants," he shouted out, slamming his glass on the counter "I'm gonna pay for it! Let a girl enjoy her drink for once" Some heads turned in your direction.

You held still for a second and didn't dare to breathe, afraid of another fight to happen since normally Kenny didn't allow anybody talk to him like that. But he simply shook his head and closed the door behind him, muttering something like "This girl actually has to work here, but whatever" leaving you alone with Johnny.

"You look hot, as always," he said trying to smile, yet the smile didn't reach his sad eyes. He almost looked like he's been crying.

"And you look like shit."

"You mean that?" he gestured at his face noticing your gaze upon his massive black eye. You nodded.

"That's nothing."

"What happened, Johnny?" you asked but he did not answer and just kept on sitting in silence, sipping his drink from time to time. Then, after what seemed like forever, he finally looked you straight in the eyes.

"I fucked up, (Y/N), that's what happened, I fucked up big time."

"Tell me!"

"As if you give two shits about it, you probably wouldn't care. You fucking despise me and my sorry ass."

"I do care!"

“Nah, you wouldn’t!”

You sprung off your seat, you did not expect that coming out of his mouth, also it hurt to hear him say that, because you really did care about him! You probably cared about him more than anything in your life at the moment. But if he was going to be a bitch to you so were you.

“Well, don’t waste my fucking time then!” you exclaimed “And stop annoying everyone that you need to see talk to me instead of fucking off. I can gladly leave you all by yourself so you can keep on pitying yourself. Nice seeing you, jerk!”

And you were about to storm off, go back to pretending to work just like you did every other day when there was nothing else to do, when you instantly heard a “(Y/N), wait!”

You turned around and saw Johnny, now more miserable than ever, showing at your seat inviting you to sit back down. You swallowed your pride and did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said “I just can’t believe that someone would actually give a shit about me at all. And I did want to talk to you, I still do. You’re the only one I want to see right now.” “Then tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s this kid,” he started sighed and stopped, then took another sip of his whisky and began again “I have a dojo in a strip mall, I’m a sensei,” “What’s that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and you felt stupid. Johnny looked at you, completely staggered, forgetting his pain for a moment. Proving you that it was in fact a probably very stupid question.

“It’s a Karate place, I teach Karate there.”

“Go on.”

“I have a shit ton of nerds that I teach but they’re mostly good kids, they got bullied a lot before, but I helped them, I showed them how to kick ass, so no one dares to fuck with them anymore. There’s this one kid, Miguel, I’ve been teaching him since the beginning, he actually gave me the idea to open a dojo, he begged me to and he’s a great kid, he really grew on me. He lives next door with his mom and grandma, they’re great people, Mexicans. I even learned a bit of Spanish from them. And I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately. I really, really liked him.”

He rubbed his eyes and stopped talking.

“What do you mean you liked him?” you asked carefully and studied Johnny’s face that he covered with his hands again.

“There’s more to the story. There’s another dojo in town, fucking Miyagi-Do. Of course, you can’t expect only one dojo to be there in L.A but how I wish that at least that one wouldn’t exist. The sensei is a twat. I fucking hate this guy. And his kids started fighting with my kids at school and not like throwing some punches at each other and leaving it be after somebody starts crying. No, they started a fucking Karate War at school. I mean, I get it, when I was their age I also took Karate way too seriously but letting it go this far? I don’t know, I can’t really understand that. It got out of hand real quick two weeks ago.���

“Fuck, did something bad happen?” you wondered and poured yourself and Johnny another whisky.

He nodded and stared into the distance. You waited for him to answer.

“There was a fight two weeks ago and apparently it got really bad. Miguel got kicked off a balcony at school, he fell two stories deep, spine-first onto a handrail.” You gasped. You school also had problems with fighting, a lot to be precise but as far as you knew, no one got kicked off from somewhere.

“He’s been in a coma now for two weeks and they say that the chances of waking up from a coma after two weeks are pretty miserable. He might as well be dead by now.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” you said although not knowing shit about coma, you just wanted t comfort Johnny. You could not stand seeing him so broken you even wished he would go back to his old nature again, hitting on you, joking and just having a good time “He’s probably going to wake up soon and go back to Karate again.”  

“You don’t know that!” Johnny said raising his voice, “He broke his fucking spine, (Y/N), even if he wakes up, he’s probably going to be crippled for his whole life.”

He took a deep breath and drank his whisky at once, grunting at the burning feeling in his throat.

“And now my own kid is in fucking juvie for kicking Miguel of a railing and he won’t even talk to me!”

“Wait, you have a kid?” you wondered and stared at Johnny wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say, this was surely a surprise for you. And Johnny went on with his rant.

“Yeah, Robby, he’s 17. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s locked up, doesn’t want to hear a word from me, but that’s okay,” his voice was cynical, you could hear how much despised himself right in the moment and it was painful to see.

“I’ve been a shit father anyways, right? Every single day of his life I’ve been failing him. I wasn’t around much. I did nothing to keep him out of trouble. If so, I only made it worse, I only pushed him to train with Miyagi-Do and what happened to Miguel is all on me.” Despite calming himself down with a drink, Johnny’s voice got louder with every word he spoke. Again, heads were turning towards you, but you didn’t care.

“It’s not your fault what happened,” you said calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was so tensed that you might as well have been touching a stone. And Johnny shook your hand of and let out a hateful laugh.

“Not my fault?” he shouted his lungs out “Who else’s fault is it then? Of course, it is mine. It is all on me, I fucked up. I fucked up both Robby’s and Miguel’s lives and on top of that mine’s not that great either. I spent the night in a fucking cell.”

“Calm down, Johnny,” you said softly and finally went in for a hug “It’s going to be okay; I promise!”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled as you wrapped your arms around him tightly pressing yourself against his trembling chest. At first, he let his arms sink and didn’t do anything, he kept on shouting, making even more heads turn towards all the noise, but then suddenly he buried his scrubby face into crook of your neck and sighed, finally placing his hands on your back, finally relaxing, firmly embracing you. You could’ve stayed like that for ever.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get him out of here!”, you suddenly heard Kenny who stood there, arms crossed, watching you, “He’s scaring off the people.”

You released Johnny from your hold who went back to staring down the counter whilst burying his face in his rough hands, just the way you have found him.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bring him home.”

“Yeah, sure, feel free to come back to work whenever you’re ready, no rush. Or maybe you want to do home office instead?” said Kenny sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Kenny, I can’t let him go home like this alone, he’ll kill himself on the way. Besides, he’s probably the reason this place still hasn’t gone bankrupt. And I’m the reason he keeps coming, so maybe we owe him that?”

The big biker in front of you didn’t look too happy but he knew you were right, still, he wasn’t that easy to convince.

“Come on,” you said putting on your best puppy eyes, trying to look all cute because you knew the old man liked you deep inside “I’ll do double shift tomorrow, I promise. But just please let me go.”

Kenny stood motionless.

“Please?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll cover for you. But if you don’t come in early tomorrow…” “I know, I know, you’ll fire me” you finished his sentence and smiled at him.

Then you nudged Johnny who was not getting any of the conversation you just had and told him about your plan about getting him home. He stood up and he clearly wasn’t very strong on his feet. He was swaying from side to side on the way out.

“Okay, give me your keys, Johnny,” you said when you arrived at his black dodge. Normally you would have made fun of the yellow stripes and snakes all over, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I think I remember you telling me that you don’t have a license anymore and that you’re not willing to get involved into DUIs anymore.” And yet he submissively handed you over his car keys. You shrugged and got in the car, waiting for him to take the shotgun seat.

“I guess we all have to make exceptions sometimes. Now concentrate and lead me the way.”

“Thank you” Johnny said, his voice now all raspy and he suddenly looked tired “Now you are saving my ass.”

**************************************************************************************

PART 4

Already working on part 4 whether you like it or not, I’m too invested in that one

Sorry to all waiting for their requests to be written, I’ll soon be on it

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @lililolli​ (you want to be on the taglist, too? drop me a message)

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself.  And @emkay512​ for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world. 

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better. 

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration. 

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along. 

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed. 

 The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole. 

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him. 

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide. 

“NOW, Leo!” 

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.”  Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace. 

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap. 

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress. 

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

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Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags:  @sanchita012 ​  @narrytheworld ​  @queenwalton   @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess   @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

[midnight-in-town]

Hi so I came across your Femto punishing both Guts and Casca meta and even tho I kinda like it I found myself at odds with a part of it.

I think punishing Casca and feeling mad she picked Guts over him and considered leaving him wasn't really a consideration at all. In the thoughts he has after the weird trippy hallucination thing they put him through during the eclipse his only thoughts are about Guts. How he was the only one who made Griffith forget his dream. And when he forgot this torture happened and his body was broken.

Guts was the one he risked life for by going to save him from Zod. Guts was the one who managed to get close to him despite his attempts to keep his distance from his men. Griffith was at that point after all only human. Humans need close relationships which he was denying himself and that led to his overattachment to the one he had which caused him to end up in the situation he got tortured in. He had to blow off steam he was so upset by Guts leaving and the concept alone made his fight with Guts more erratic.

But Casca leaving isn't reflected on at all during the Eclipse. Griffith said once that a true equal was what he considered a friend and while he was talking to a royal at the time that might still be true. Griffith who was human, and despite being in denial about it, craved friendship.

An equal who didn't leave him might be something he wanted. But Femto who has thrown away his humanity doesn't want a friend he doesn't want a equal. A power play is required to prove that Guts is beneath him. He needs to disempower Guts to feel empowered. To feel that Guts isn't a equal that Guts is beneath him.

The scene where he pushes down Casca is a parallel because it is also about power but in a different way. The sequence of events is Griffith asks Guts to put on his armor he wants to be able to put it on fight again. Guts obliges excited to see Griffith recover.

Elsewhere Casca is told he will never recover enough to hold a sword again. A demon attacks them rips off Griffiths armor and mocks him and his group over how he's already broken. Afterwards Griffith hears his group come apart as they come to terms about his condition. Casca berates Guts for expecting that recovery when it not possible which Griffith also hears.

Griffith then pushes Casca down I think because Casca used to be someone he was stronger than her. It's just a desperation to show he has even a bit of the strength he used to possess.

He manages to stay in the position she doesn't try to push him off he doesn't try to do anything and just puts his effort in maintaining position. Flopping on her and groping would probably be less physical effort but I don't think that what he trying to do . His mouth is open like he's trying to say something but no words come out. She hugs him pulling him close and as he's no longer holding up his own body weight his trembling stops.

I think its supposed to contrast with Femto later and his mentality in this moment vs that one.

The first scene with Casca is desperation to show he has even a bit of the strength he used to possess. That it'd not over for him.

The second one where he attacks Casca in front of Guts is to show no one is equal to him everyone is beneath him. Guts is beneath him. In this world where Griffith reigns Guts has no power to stop anything to do anything and he wants to mock and hurt Guts. That it's his time to rule.

When Griffith is rescued his immediate reaction is to lash out attack Guts. He is mad at Guts for leaving because in his mind Guts leaving led to this. But it only led to this because Griffith cared enough about him that he would be upset at not having Guts around. Its because they were friends. So when he sees Guts crying over him that anger dissappears and he puts his hands on Guts hand in a almost comforting gesture. He can't go as far with his anger or hatred because he loves and cares too.

Which is why that first scene with Casca is only her being pinned. He wouldn't go that far because even if he doesn't see her as a equal he still gives a shit. Its why he attempts to move to her when she attacked by demons after they escape with him. Maybe he wouldn't even consider doing something like what Femto does to her.

But that caring and giving a shit is the humanity he gives up. Femto still has emotions he had feelings Griffith used to have. If he didn't making Guts feel disempowered wouldn't matter. The idea of Guts as a equal in anyway wouldn't occur. Femto is just that anger and rage he felt when he tried to strangle Guts without the caring he felt when he put his hand on Guts hand.

Casca only mattered when Griffith cared about people who he thought he was stronger than. When he sacrificed that Casca ceased to matter. She was never a target of his anger or frustration. But Guts continued to matter. Because Guts was a target of that. He wants the target of his frustration to suffer, and he knows this will make him suffer.

Just my opinion thought I'd share. Still love your meta tho!

Well, damn, that’s a long ask. xDD Next time, just reblog and add your thoughts, I also answer that way, hahaha!

Also, not sure which post of mine you’re referring to, by the way. I’m thinking this one, but I honestly can’t be sure because I also reblogged posts on the subject?

Anyway, if I sum up your take: Griffith was out to punish Guts only and not Casca, because Guts >>> Casca in terms of significance as far as Griffith is concerned? 

Thank you for your input :) but see, I disagree, because this is exactly why I once said that...

I don’t understand why some fans somehow reduce Berserk’s plot to being about Guts vs Griffith, Casca often becoming some random secondary character. For me, no matter how you look at the series ever since the Golden Age, it just ain’t the case. :))

However, all I ever wrote was that Griffith punished both of them; I never implied that their “betrayal” amounted to the same significance for Griffith, because it’s indeed not the case.

After all, as you said, we know Guts always had a bigger impact on Griffith since the day they met...

...but, while we will never know for sure, I for one am quite convinced that if Casca (who was Griffith’s right-hand woman) was the one who had left in the same fashion as Guts, it would have triggered Griffith in a similar way. 

Because Griffith is a man of influence: he knows that and how to use such charisma on others. That’s why he totally means the words he said to Charlotte about what kind of people he would see as a friend. So he uses people’s feelings for him in a way that would serve the path to achieving his dreams. Casca herself said that, as a leader after he was gone, all she did was "try to protect the dream of someone who might not even be alive”. 

The Band of the Falcon lived and worked to help Griffith achieve his dream, because they saw him as special, since they had no achievable big dream of their own (kinda why Griffith said they’re not “friends”). 

So yeah sure, Guts’ actions would always leave a bigger impact on Griffith, as you showed he said it himself, but Casca falling in love with Guts and envisioning a future far away from Griffith’s schemes still clearly stung. 

After all, everyone in the group knew of Casca’s unrequited feelings for Griffith, meaning that Griffith obviously knew too and, instead of telling her it would never happen, he entertained the possibility so that Casca would entirely devote herself to him.

Take Judeau, as a counterexample: he too had some feelings for Casca, but he urged Guts several times to take her with him and away from the group, because he couldn’t stand her unhappiness. Griffith said nothing about her feelings, because he knew that’s how Casca would do everything for his sake. 

Still, Casca was not any random member of his Band so, when she emancipated from Griffith by falling in love with Guts, in my opinion it’s why...

...she also was on the receiving end of his jealousy. 

It’s distasteful but, otherwise, why did Femto rape Casca instead of killing her? Again, we will never know, but if Guts had left Griffith behind for a future with any other random girl, I think Femto would have just killed her in front of Guts. Raping Casca, when she used to long for Griffith’s affection, was revenge against both of them for choosing each other instead of him and his dream. 

You can see it in the way he stared at both of them so many times, coming to the realization that he was not at the center of their little trio anymore. So yeah, Guts > Casca in terms of significance since day 1 as far as Griffith is concerned, I never discussed that, but Casca was not such a random member of Griffith’s band either that her actions of emancipation would not taste bitter to him. That’s my opinion. :)

Additional points: I never said he was trying to grope her in that scene when he fell on top of her as she was changing his bandages, just that “he was trying to gauge or reenact Casca’s old devotion to him by showing some affection”.

And finally, Femto who was entirely reborn as a Godhand has no emotion left about Guts or Casca, he said it himself. Thinking he’s only anger and revenge would be confusing Femto with the Skull Knight or Guts as the Black Swordsman.

Friendly reminder that Femto is not human anymore so, while Griffith thrived on thinking that he didn’t bother with overwhelming bonds to anyone and that only his dream ever mattered, it is actually the case for Femto. 

I hope I answered your points. Thanks for reading and have a nice day Anon! :))

[erensnubs]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖

Colt Grice x F! Reader Dystopian AU

Chapter 1

Word Count: 1.6k

Chapter 1 

"Oi, Levi." 

The man looked up from his phone and swivelled his gaze towards you with a disinterested expression. 

"Dear lord, what is it now?" His eyes flicked back to the phone, tapping his foot impatiently. 

You rolled your eyes at his actions and spread your arms out. 

"Do I look hot enough to seduce men so they can sign a really important document because I know they won't listen to me regardless?" 

You twirled yourself around and walked to Levi and posed like it would change the way you looked. It was an old dress, pretty and it barely fit you but it wasn't up to the standards of fashion. It hugged your body in just the  way, and it didn't stand out as much but you felt clean and moveable. You tried to do your makeup but it was back to the regular eyeliner, dark eyeshadow and dark outer lips. You awkwardly smiled at Levi as you posed in yet another cringe worthy way. 

Levi looked up at you and set his phone down on the table. He stood up, and looked up at you and examined your dress. 

After moments of waiting he finally answered, "Why must you worry about your looks? You look beautiful as always and it's the actual document and effort you put in that counts, yes?" He looked at you again for confirmation. 

"God Dammit Levi, are you attempting to make me cry before going out?" you said quietly. 

Levi put out his arms and you fell into them, gripping on to his back, tilting your head back hoping the tears didn't fall. 

Levi was your friend from that hell hole of a place that was "home" for the majority of your life, he was 10 years older than you and you were just a child lost in an unfamiliar area where he found you attempting to make a map to retrace your steps. Your stupid 7 year old self was tearing up the leaves on the ground and tried making a pathway on the pavement when the wind just blew your "guide" away. Levi appeared from the gas station store, wondering how a kid like you was still awake at 3 in the morning. That was how you met. 

 Both of you were living in a place, where you couldn't really call home. You had other friends of course but you stuck with Levi through everything life threw at you, jobs, family issues, relationships. Despite all these hardcomings you were able to get an education, attend college and Levi was able to make a living working for the government as part of the Survey Corps, a specialized group that recons and finds new places and areas for sustainable living. 

Ever since what people called “The Warning”, a series of natural disasters and catastrophes that happened as if appeared from magic, governments have been trying to find volunteers who were willing to find homes for the people who were now without them, due to the catastrophic events going underway.  .

Though you didn't believe it was magic, since humans tend to fuck up their living in some sort of way, you went along with this magic thing, but in reality you knew if people would just believe this was caused by pollution, green house gases, and global warming then we could possibly be of more help than the public. But of course, you were the young, radicalized woman who spoke too much. So you kept quiet.  

Right now, you worked in the same sort of vicinity as Levi. You got a job as a researcher and data collector. While Levi was working out there finding areas to live. You were researching why these events keep on happening, what places ARE suitable, how we can help the common people find homes and security. Levi was the astronaut, you were the astronomer. 

Both of you decided to live together in a condo-apartment that was quite big, well because unlike Levi your job paid MUCH more than your average salary and much more than he made.  You lived together since you entered college so it wasn't that big of a deal. When you got engaged Levi offered to leave, but you insisted he stayed. Of course, you didn't have to worry about that anymore. 

Unfortunately. 

Levi patted your back affectionately, "Best keep going [Name]. I can see Erwin getting out of the car to pick you up." 

You peeped over Levi's shoulder and stared down at the ceiling to floor windows, and sure enough the blonde's slick hair was coming from his car and onto the sidewalk. 

You let go of your embrace and gave a half smile, "Ok… I'll see you later at the after party yeah?" 

Levi nodded and tilted his chin towards the door, signaling you to get a move on. You gave his shoulders one last squeeze as you walked over to the door, slipped on your dress shoes and walked to the elevator. 

*

The doors of the elevator opened and you were in the lobby of the apartments and sitting on the couch was the one and only, Erwin Smith. He was head of the Survey Corps and your "date" for the charity ball.

"Date" was the code word when it actually meant, "let's go to the higher up's ball together so we can convince them to sign papers and give us permission to do shit because you're too scared to take risks to help save the environment." 

You raised your eyebrow at Erwin as he adjusted his tie. He was definitely going all out today, dressed from black, head to toe with a clean blue tie to contrast. 

He walked over to you and hooked his arm through yours, "You look fancy [Name], seeing a special someone at the ball?" 

You swatted him, "Oh please Erwin, I [Name] is into the 50 year old men who just want money. Yes, I am dressing up for someone- and speak for yourself, is someone going that you're dying to see?" 

He rolled his eyes as he opened the glass doors, "You know I strictly mean business [Name]. That's why we're doing this, is it not?" 

You stepped through and outside the apartment complex where Erwin's car was. He opened the door for you, as chivalrous as he could always be. You slipped in with Erwin following.

"I know you're in love with Levi, Erwin sweetie stop denying it~", you say shifting your position in your seat as you kick back the recliner and lay down. 

"[Name]," he says sternly, putting the car in gear. 

You punch him in the arm, "You know it's true old man. The way you smile, the way you look at him with adoring eyes just screams-" 

Erwin cuts me off, "And we're now a happy couple, going to the ball."

You flexed your fingers and laid them on the dashboard, "Yes. Time to convince the higher ups to let us have more recon missions and funding for those." 

Erwin nodded and started to drive, "Hange will also be there to help support us in case you're wondering." 

You nodded. You and Hange were sort of old flings, but ultimately friends. It started back in college and in your earlier years of working for the government but now you were anything but romantic. Of course they teased you and made sexual and romantic innuendos at you for the sake of fun, and more than once you've fallen for it, but of course Hange just calls you "a friend with 'explicit' history". 

Right now, both of you worked as research experts. While you were head of the department, Hange was the bridge between your area of expertise to Erwin's. 

All of you have been hoping for some sort of funding and financial support to help with your recons and expeditions but the government officials weren't up to it. 

Unfortunately, for them that will all change for tonight. 

"Time to convince old men to write their name on a paper," you muttered to yourself, as you rubbed your forehead just thinking about it. 

Erwin laughed as he turned a right and stopped near the opera area where the ball was taking place. The whole block was covered in lights and people wearing suits, dresses. Limos were lined up on the sidewalk getting ushered into a parking area. The Opera, Frieda Reiss Opera House was designed so at night the reflecting lights would shine onto it making it glow a blue-white light. Leading into the house you could see the familiar marble steps that shone like ice, and were shiny like a mirror. 

The government was holding a special ball for their anniversary of having "successful" missions. Of course on the outside, everything looked progressive but the public doesn't know about the countless lives, sleepless nights, endless money that was counted. 

"Damn, Erwin we came in a Subaru and everybody else came in limos? You are a cheap skate," you say as you adjust your dress and unbuckle your seatbelt. 

Erwin pulled over to the side, and parked the car. He fixed his hair, even if it was already in place. He opened the door and stepped out and you did the same. He went over and hooked your arm to him and you started to walk over to the Opera house. 

"Yes [Name] call me a cheapskate, but we are acting very cheap considering our little plan." 

"True, true but we could've spared some to look a little more extinguished," you sigh. 

He scoffs,"Don't act too shallow now Dr. [Name], you need to get your act together to present the plan." 

You walk up the stairs of the opera house, shoes clicking. Right. That was what you're here for. Convince the higher ups to sign the paper. To save lives. So that this mission was not like the failure the previous turned out to be. 

So the others wouldn't suffer the same fate as he did. 

Next

[rcksmith]

The Agreement part.2 — Kaz Brekker

Resume/Masterlist

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Warnings of series: Convenience/arranged marriage, swearing, mention of fight, mention of death, mention of desire, fluff, sensual, mention of post-traumatic stress.

Warnings of chapter: swearing.

Word count: 4k

A/N: I hope you guys like.💖

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are closet. Love you ❤️

— — — —

“What?!” Your exclamation came out louder than intended, and perhaps sharper than expected.

The salty sea breeze came through the window once more. The smell of salt and ocean invaded the room and for a second it felt like being in a ship's cabin at sea.

Kaz looked at you as if you were some child. Or someone deaf. But if he was swimming in acidic thoughts, he didn't say them.

"Think carefully." His voice was firm and explicit, the ones men use to convince women of something. “You want freedom, don't you? Live your life without having to fulfill a man's whims or your father's expectations. You wants to be able to snow on a ship without having a date to go back and make your own destiny. You want just needing to care what new adventure knocks on your door and what promise of wonders life awaits. It is not?"

How did he figure it out so well in such a short time? Was he too shrewd or were you too transparent?

You nodded, unable to say anything. Perhaps out of perplexity at how Kaz read you so easily. Or maybe the way he looked like an overpoweringly beautiful fallen angel in the moonlight.

“And the only way to do that is to get married.”

You frowned. “As I recall, Brekker, I came here just so I wouldn't have to get married.”

“And it's a stupid plan.” God, you wanted to kill him. “You asked me to have the Dregs take you to the harbor without your father's spies noticing. But it turns out your father's spies already know you're here.”

Your breath was lost somewhere between lungs and nose.

“Since you arrived, the noise from the Crow Club downstairs has become less shrill. And this is not typical criminal behavior. Either they have adopted good manners or someone they know they should fear has joined the Club.” Kaz sat more relaxed in the armchair behind his desk, his dark blue eyes locked on you. “I would bet on the second option.”

“So I came here for nothing?” You were starting to get angry at his beating around the bush. Because you knew it was manipulation. Brekker was laying the groundwork and you understood that.

“I did not say that. Turns out you can never get rid of your father. Not when he's a man with the purchasing power able to buy an entire country. There will always be someone who will recognize you, someone who will find you. And for the right price, the whole world is capable of being bribed. You would run away only to be chased by other spies, other people wanting the reward your father will give to whoever brings you back home.”

Very early on, you realized that Kaz Brekker was capable of crushing dreams as easily as crushing an insect. His destructive power was colossal and you saw all of your desires floating under his palm. Waiting just for him to brutally clench his fist and crush them.

But that's not what he did.

“You'll only get what you want if you follow his orders.” The breeze came through the window once more, ruffling her charcoal hair. “But if you can't defeat your enemies, change the rules of the game.”

“And is that where marriage to you comes in?”

“See it.” His body leaned very gently across the table towards you, it was a millimeter and ridiculous gesture, but it felt like him standing a breath away from you. “What you need is to get married. But marrying someone who doesn't give a damn about what you're going to do, and don’t have expectations of you. Someone who is not interested in home life, family life or Any other things you can offer other than money.”

Any other things you can offer. The night breeze this time was accompanied by an impure, almost obscene scene of the fallen angel in front of you on a bed of black duvets and caustic weather. A moment when the ends of his black hair brushed your forehead and your nose, moving back and forth as followed the rhythm of his hips and…

The sea breeze was gone, taking the obscene image with it and bringing back your common sense. For a second you wondered where that came from! You hadn't been in his presence for more than two hours and the entire compilation of what it was like Kaz Brekker, so far, had frightened you and attracted you in an absurdly dangerous way.

"And are that you came, I suppose." You hoped your voice couldn't give away your impure thoughts from seconds ago. “Do you want us to form an alliance where you receive my dowry and in return I am free from my father's demands and can do as I please with my freedom?"

“Alliance is a very strong term for what we are doing here.” He was succinct, “I would tell you to look at this as a business transaction. A marriage document is still just a piece of paper. And nothing else. Don't get carried away by sentimentalism. Things only have feelings if you want them to.”

Kaz was right, you knew that. For all your belief in true love and the many books romance novels you devoured, you still understood that a marriage could very well be seen as a business translation. It are a sad, cold way to see something so beautiful, but it still true.

“I have no interest in anything other than your dowry and you have no interest other than freedom. So what I'm proposing is something very sensible and objective. When we get married, your father will set you free, and you won't have any husband to please or any other crap. I don't want and don't expect anything from you, I don't care if you're sailing to Ravka or venturing on The Fold.”

“Do you want the money out of greed or despair?”

Kaz took a second to get a better look at you after that sneaky question. You had asked the correct question amid so many banalities and he realized that you were more cunning than you looked.

If he wanted to know your secrets, you also wanted to know his.

“A bit of both.” He was sincere.

“And what do you intend to do with my father's industries? Because you would win them too. And any misdirection could end up reducing my father's empire to nothing, and I don't want him to see the thing he loves most in ruins.”

Brekker heard the feelings in your voice. There was a hidden pang of hurt, but a lot of determination and honesty. You loved your father and understood him, even if you didn't agree with his principles. You had a fair and upright nature and were able to move mountains to get things done the way you thought was right. That was a red flag for Kaz. You were a good person. And he not.

He could never promise you things that go back to a good guy. But he could promise you honesty and justice. Kaz Brekker would never take something from someone the way it was taken from him so many years ago. He was a monster. But never in the same category as Pekka.

“I have no interest in having an empire doomed to fail.” His eyes were serious. “My motivation has always been greed. Why would I sink the company that is capable of making me such a rich man?”

He would have to be an idiot to let such a lucrative business go. And Kaz Brekker was anything but an idiot.

“Would you let me do anything I want?”

“I have no interest in what you don't or do.”

You hesitated for a second, as if remembering another detail. “My father doesn't believe in divorce, and even if he did, I would be pressured to remarry. Do you understand that we couldn't divorce?”

“I have no desire to marry again. And you might as well get other men you want without making a fuss, without your father finding out.” Always rational and objective. Without any inclination to the heart's desires. “There is no room in this world for feelings. Much less in this agreement. If you fall in love with someone you will have to be content with just relating to them, not getting married. And it seems like a small price to pay for so many benefits.”

It was the perfect plan. Did you know that. It was rational, objective and cunning. Something advantageous for both without costing too much. But why did you feel that something could go very wrong? You were a romantic person and you knew you could see things where they didn't exist. The truth was, you would have to leave your heart completely out of the picture.

Just a business transaction.

Brekker seemed to see a hint of hesitation in your eyes.

“It's very simple, Ms. Y/L/N.” That voice that gave you goose bumps hovered in front of you. “You marry me and you still have your freedom, because I don't give a damn about what you do after.”

“20 million from Kruges. Rich.” his eyes gleamed with a deep glow.

“And how do I know this isn't a trick?”

“I don't promise lies.” His firm face was serious “I won't give you happiness, Y/n. Much less love. Love doesn't exist in Kerch. But I will give you freedom, independence, a comfortable life that you are accustomed. And it seems to be much more than you have now.”

You knew you could be making a deal with the devil. Selling your soul to that man with the face of a fallen angel and the aura of Lucifer. But what choice did you have?

You couldn't go back if you sealed that deal. That man would be bound whit you, even by a piece of paper, for a lifetime. Was it worth the price? You didn't care for your father's press to want to be in the management and you had a lot more money than twenty million Kruges. What would you be missing? Your chance to marry one day whit someone you came to love? But if you came home without someone one day from now your father would marry you to a gargoyle. And the way out to flee no longer seemed a viable option.

Yes, it was worth it.

Seeming to see from the glint in your eyes that you've made a decision, Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, reached out a leather-gloved hand toward you. His eyes sparkled with a mysterious spark, the scent of male cologne with a hint of danger lurking around the room. And for a moment, you felt a shiver go up your spine and the feeling that your life had just begun.

“Agree to marry me?” He said.

The feeling was that you were about to embark on the greatest adventure of your life. You didn't know what that little stunt with Kaz Brekker awaited you. But you would find out.

“Yes.” You took his hand in a firm, intense handshake that held a million secrets.

A satisfied, victorious smile came to his lips. And whenever Kaz gave him that expression, it felt like seeing the fallen angel that was the reason so many humans sinned. The clouds in the sky shifted, moving out of the moon's path and making the distilled rays of light shimmer more brightly. His black hair and white skin were graced with those bundles, and for a second his beauty was overwhelming.

You held your breath.

Brekker continued to say something, but you couldn't pay attention. Your heart began to race, the moonlight following in his footsteps as Kaz got up from his chair and went to fetch some papers from across the room. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His body was taller and thinner than you deduced when he was sitting down. Kaz had long, slender legs beneath black straight-cut pants, his chest was broad and his waist was narrow. For a second, you felt like running your hand over the contours of his body.

You shifted your attention forward abruptly. Focusing eyes on something else.

That was the curse of handsome men. They fooled women and made them daydream. With his underworld god beauty and mysterious aura with a touch of danger, Kaz Brekker was overwhelmingly attractive. And your blood reacted to that. Any woman would have reacted the same way.

“And we'll have to leave tomorrow morning…” he sat opposite you again.

“Sorry, what?”

You turned your attention to his words, not remembering half of what he said seconds ago. Kaz looked at you intently this time, squinting his eyes millimetrically, as if he was trying to guess which paths your mind had wandered in for the past two minutes.

“Your deadline is the day after tomorrow, isn't it?”

"Yes." You got back to the core of the problem once more. “The trip to my house takes a few hours. Half a day if it's raining.”

Kaz had his eyes on the papers in his hands, maybe they were maps or documents, but you didn't feel like craning your neck to see what it was. Leaning over to view the papers meant getting closer to Brekker, and two hours in his presence was enough for you to understand that nothing good would happen if you got any closer. Or maybe you didn't trust your own feelings and emotions.

“This will have to be done very discreetly.” He didn't look up from his papers. “If any rumors about our deal reach the wrong people, your father will hear about our plan. And that meant you will being forced to marry someone else, and me without my money. Does anyone know you're here because you planned to run away?”

You shook your head. “No. I didn't get to tell my friends. But now that the plan is different, I intend to tell a friend that…”

“You can't tell anyone.” Kaz lifted ocean blue eyes to you in an electrifying look that made you shiver.

“And what is supposed to say to my friends?” You felt a pang of indignation.

“That we are in love.”

This time, your breath was gone. The phrase was like pouring gasoline on an old, flammable woodpile. And you were afraid of what might be the match that would set off a fire.

Kaz noticed your reaction and was amused by it. “Just say some nonsense about falling in love with a criminal. It wouldn't be the first time a rich little girl has fallen in love with the bad guy, and I guarantee it won't be the last.”

“And you won't tell anyone about the truth too?” You wanted to change the focus you.

“I don't have to answer to anyone.”

This time you gave a smug smile and crossed your arms in an insolent gesture. “So everyone will think the infamous Kaz Brekker, Dirty Handes and Ketterdam's most dangerous gangster is in love with a rich little girl?”

Kaz narrowed his eyes at your teasing.

“It won't be the first time that the man with a bad temper and dangerous soul falls in love with the little girl. And I'm sure it won't be the last.” You said.

You were provocative, witty and stubborn. You would always hit at the same height and loved to show people that could very well play their game. Brekker unraveled this perfectly. You weren't the kind of woman who would be peaceful, serene, and calm. You wouldn't be like Inej. You would not take his orders and his taunts in silent, contained rage. You were intense. And that was a danger.

Why did he get the feeling you were so much more than he imagined?

“Let's go to your house tomorrow morning. Nine in the morning.” He changed the subject. “I'll go with you and we'll get married.”

"My father must be preparing everything by now." You sighed. “He takes his promises very seriously and I have no doubt that, when I returns, the ceremony scene will be set in the party garden.”

Partly you were relieved about it now. Planning a ceremony are intense and personal. You never really thought about getting married, but you always imagined that if one day it happened it would be the man of your dreams. And you didn't know if you would want to organize a fake wedding. There were certain things that were inevitable to keep the heart from breaking.

“Better yet, the faster the better.”

The two of you discussed some more details of the plan in the next few hours. It was agreed that Kaz would pick you up at nine from your hotel tomorrow, in an elegant hired carriage (which you obviously would be paying for) and the two of you would go to your house in Kerch. For all intents and for all people, the truth would be that the two of you were in love. It was such a typical cliché that it wouldn't be the least bit hard to believe.

And after a while, you two could already show yourself to the world as a couple who barely saw each other. Rich society was full of them: marriage with coldness and distance, where the man has his bets and lovers and the woman her travels and her jewelry. Your father would surely understand and leave you alone. After all, he had gotten a son-in-law to inherit his empire. A young son-in-law with blood for business who would make your father extremely satisfied. However, now the two of you had to look like a couple in love. And the reality of the situation was a secret that only the two of you would take with you to the tomb.

But, that night it was difficult for you to sleep. Anxiety, restlessness and fear gnawed at you like cunning mice, rolling you from side to side in bed, whispering in your ears millions of futures where everything could go wrong. Where not even Kaz Brekker's plans could free you from the clutches of one of your father's suitors.

When the clock struck seven in the morning, you jumped out of bed with unsettling, restless energy. You didn't like feeling helpless and waiting for Brekker to show up was exactly the definition of a princess in trouble. You had to do something.

- -

“What do you mean to get married?!” Jesper choked on his breakfast, and Nina nearly spit out all her orange juice.

Kaz rolled his eyes and continued sorting through the documents on the large round table. He was going to be gone for a few days at most and needed the people he trusted most to take care of business while he was gone. There were a lot of robberies to do and Kaz spent the night crafting and modifying plans for options where he wasn't involved. He had made a list of what needed to be checked at ports and what needed to be resupplied at Crow clube.

The plan was to marry you when they arrived in Kerch and return to Crow Club the next day. Kaz knew he would have to bring you, the two of you would have to stay together until your dowry was delivered to him. After that you could go on any adventure you wanted.

But dealing with the Crows was being more exasperating than Kaz could have expected.

"I didn't even know you had a girlfriend!" Wylan was in shock.

"Nobody knew!" Nina and Inej had their chins on the floor. Matthias was the only one who didn't seem to care so much.

"I didn't know the affairs of my private life were your business." Kaz didn't look up from the papers he kept in folders for the stupid ones.

"But you never said anything." Inej said.

"It was the intention."

"It's with Y/n, isn't it?" Jesper had bright eyes and a gleeful gambling smile stretched across his lips.

Kaz looked up at the boy with chocolate creamy skin, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“She spent hours in yours office last night.”

"Oh my Santis!" Inej, Nina and Wylan exclaimed at once, eyes wide.

"The daughter of the richest man in Kerch." Wylan said.

"YOUR DOG!" Jesper clapped Kaz on the shoulder with an open palm, a loud laugh echoing and joy filling his voice.

Kaz suppressed the urge to look at the spot where Jesper had touched him. It had been years since he'd gotten over the most brutal aversion to touch, when the mere thought of getting close to someone made him tingle and dizzy with imminent fainting. At 28 years old, Kaz Brekker had proven to be greater than the demons and weaknesses that haunted him, wanting to see his downfall. A man who wanted to defeat Pekka could have no weaknesses. And he prided himself on almost have none of them.

However, offhand gestures made him look at the spot where he had been touched. The sensation brought was not unbearable or nauseating, but strange. And when the situation was skin to skin in a touch that caught him off guard, the feeling was unpleasant. Like a splinter under the skin.

It was easier with people Kaz felt comfortable with, but it wasn't something he cared about. He forced himself to overcome the most brutal aversion just to be a man without weaknesses, no chance of being defeated in a torture, no chance of being defeated by a faint. No for to touch someon.

“I thought you didn't know her in person when I warned you yesterday.” Inej tried to contain her little smile.

“It was the intention. You guys forgot the definition of secret…”

"Boss." One of the employees had entered that exclusive room. "There's someone here wanting to talk to you, Sir." He looked apprehensive.

Kaz frowned. The crow club had no movement at eight in the morning.

"Who is?"

"I think…"

"Will you please let me through!" The female voice sounded outside the room.

Jesper and the rest of the gang were wide-eyed, mouths opening in amusement and bewilderment. Kaz was catatonic. What the fucking hell were you doing there?!

"What do you mean I can't talk to your boss?!" And you continued. “I spoke to him yesterday...Don't give me these arguments, my dad tells his employees to tell people exactly that...I swear if you touch out about me again I will...”

"Fucking hell!" Kaz came out from behind the counter, crossing the living room and opening the door.

He came face to with that scene. A short girl who argued with a bouncer who was triple her height and size. Kaz knew the man was arrogant and macho, and had probably nudged your temper. He would have been amused by the scene if he wasn't abgry that you didn't follow his explicit rules.

“Ray.” Kaz glanced at the bouncer, a steady gaze that made the brute immediately back away from you.

You even gave the man an angry look before heading towards Kaz.

"What are you doing here?!" He whispered angrily.

"I couldn't wait." You wiggled your fingers, a tic of anxiety. “I could barely sleep. It was lucky I didn't show up at six in the morning.”

“That's not excuses. We have a schedule!"

“But I couldn't wait!" You whispered too. “It's visseral. I can't just sit there and wait!”

What an insufferable creature!

"Well, you'll have to learn because…!"

"What are you two whispering back there? “ Jesper's voice interrupted the discussion in whispers.

The two of you turned to the troupe standing in the doorway of the Crow room. Playful, mischievous smiles were plastered across their faces, and you felt your cheeks blush. Kaz and you looked at each other, and in that second of silent complicity, the two of you finally stepped into the roles of partners in crime.

Tagged: @aleksanderwh0r3 @thedelusionreaderbitch @hi-there-x @mell-bell @glowingatdawn @subjecta13-thefangirl @itsnotquimey @thatchampagnebitch @lamoursansfin @lostysworld @s3xymoonman @is-it-really-a-secret

[emachinescat]

The Neglected Neckerchief

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat ​

@febuwhump ​ day 21 - torture

Summary: A group of bandits torture Merlin in front of Arthur for their own entertainment, using Merlin’s beloved neckerchief against him in the cruelest of manners.  Now, Arthur must struggle to come to terms with a traumatized Merlin, whose neckerchief has been replaced by a ring of bruises.

Characters: Merlin, Arthur

Words: 4,730

TW: strangulation, panic attacks

Note: Based on my drabble series from “Moments” by the same name. Sorry for no cover/header picture today. I'm sick and doing the bare minimum. I will add one later when I feel up to making one!

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Arthur had never understood his servant's attachment to that ratty triangle of fabric he wore around his neck. When he had first met Merlin, in fact, Arthur had downright hated it. He'd pestered his servant about it on many occasions, questioning the practicality, the fashion, the function of the neckerchief. Of course, Merlin never failed to follow up with a clever retort, but he never really answered the question, and eventually, Arthur got bored of teasing Merlin for his clothes and moved on to something else.

As the years passed, however, Arthur's derision for the odd neckwear faded, and before long, he found himself associating the neckerchief with Merlin himself. It got to the point where seeing Merlin without the accessory felt strange, and before he knew it, the prince realized that he actually liked that stupid scarf – though he would die before he admitted it to Merlin.

Now that he was older, perhaps a bit wiser than he had been as a young prince, King Arthur had a feeling that it wasn't so much the neckerchief that he'd grown to like, but the person who wore it. And since Merlin and his neckerchief were one and the same, it stood to reason that the king would have grown fond of it as well. Not that he would ever admit his affection for his servant out loud, either, of course. Not in so many words – or any words, really. That just wasn't how his relationship with Merlin worked.

Indeed, somewhere along the way, Merlin's neckerchief had become as much of a staple in Arthur's life as the servant himself. And yet, in the span of one bandit attack during a morning hunt, that all changed.

It had started off, as these things often do, as a normal patrol. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm, the sort of day where you would never expect anything horrible to happen. And yet –

It had been a week since the hunt turned to hell, and Arthur could still recall it so vividly that he might as well have been experiencing it all over again. Those five minutes of torture had branded themselves so deeply into his mind's eye that every time he fell asleep, he would go back – back to the forest, to the bandits and their laughter and their hands holding him back, holding him down. Back to the sounds. Oh gods, the sounds. Gagging, choking, panicked breaths, a mouth gaping open like a fish's, searching desperately for air that wouldn't come. Blue lips, still chest, and laughter. And, of course, in the center of it all, Merlin's beloved neckerchief.

***

One Week Ago

"Looks like we got a fine catch today, gentlemen!" The short, ugly brute of a bandit grinned at Arthur, half of his teeth rotten and the other half missing all together. "Is this a knight of Camelot we've stumbled upon?"

Arthur was relieved that they hadn't recognized him to be the king, at least. He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible on his outings, having Merlin hold on to the royal seal if they were going anywhere outside of the citadel – bandits generally ignored servants and focused on the more important looking people, after all. It was a clever trick, provided Merlin didn't lose the seal. So far, he'd kept up with it well enough on their journeys, and this time, it seemed to be paying off, as these bandits thought they were playing with just another knight and his servant.

But that didn't change the fact that Arthur and Merlin had been taken off guard, ambushed, and tied hand and foot by a band of ten morally bereft, muscle-heavy monsters who wouldn't know hygiene if it crashed into their thick skulls. Arthur had been shoved to his knees and held there by four men, who still struggled to keep him still. Two other men had done the same to his servant, but other than the usual bumps and bruises from fighting a losing battle, neither Arthur nor Merlin were hurt.

Arthur may not have been injured, but he was angry, mostly with himself. He'd known it was a bad idea to go on a hunt without any of the knights or guards to accompany him. He'd let Merlin come along because he knew that the obsessively loyal servant would have followed him anyway, and he'd much rather have Merlin by his side so he could keep an eye on him instead of being forced to listen to him thrashing around in the undergrowth making a racket while trying to be stealthy. As Athur had been reminded by his council many times, he was king now, and he had a responsibility to think not only of the safety and well-being of his people, but of himself as well. That meant no more running around in the forest on hunts or patrols without a guard. That meant telling the council where he was going to be at all times so that they would know to send someone after him if he didn't get back in time.

But Arthur had had enough. It had been a month since his father's death, and he was stifled in the castle. Even when he wasn't in Camelot, people still surrounded him on patrols and hunts, and even when those people were some of his closest friends – the knights – he often felt like he was being smothered, and his skin crawled at the thought of having to sit through one more council meeting or supervised hunt. He'd needed to get away. He'd told Guievere where he was going, of course. And then he'd grabbed his servant, all but dragging him out of the castle at the break of day, and they'd passed a pleasant enough morning, with Merlin scaring away half the prey. But as with most good things in King Arthur's life, this too had to end. The ambush had been unexpected and swift, and Guinevere wasn't expecting him back until evening – they were on their own.

As casually as he could, Arthur implored the bandits, "You have me, a knight of Camelot. My servant is of no use to you. Let him go."

The short, stocky bandit who seemed to be in charge considered this for a brief moment before crossing his tree-branch arms across his chest. "So he can run back to your coward king and bring a rescue party? Not likely."

"We're miles away from Camelot," Arthur pressed. "You could be long gone with me before he brings anyone back."

From the corner of his eye, Arthur watched Merlin frantically shake his head. Arthur ignored him, and prayed that the idiot would stay silent. All it would take would be Merlin saying "Arthur" one time, and the bandits would realize their mistake – and quickly seek to rectify it. Thankfully, Merlin seemed to be aware of the situation, and for once, blessedly, kept his mouth shut.

The leader ambled forward, brow creased as if thinking were incredibly painful for him. "You seem awfully keen to protect that servant of yours. Most knights don't give a damn about the help if their own lives are in danger. What's so special about that one?"

Arthur maintained eye contact with the brute before him. "I care about all those I have sworn to protect as a knight."

"Oh, that's rich!" A chorus of laughter from the surrounding bandits grated at Arthur's nerves. "Nah," the man continued, casting a glance over his shoulder at the skinny servant who glared defiantly back. "With those pretty blue eyes, I reckon he's more than just a servant."

"Yeah," called one of the bandits forcing Merlin to kneel. "The knight's consort I'd wager."

The leader swivelled back to face Arthur. "Is that it, Sir Knight? Is he your consort?"

Arthur didn't answer.

"Oh, now you clam up." The bandit leader seemed genuinely disappointed that he didn't get an answer. He peered at Arthur through slitted, suspicious eyes for a few charged seconds. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

"Well, lads, why don't we have a bit of fun before we head out?"

Arthur glanced at Merlin, and saw the servant looking back at him with wide, uncertain eyes. To Arthur's surprise, Merlin didn't look scared. In fact, Arthur thought that his servant appeared to be more conflicted than anything, like he was trying to make a difficult decision. Baffling as that was, it was hardly the most important thing on Arthur's mind at the moment.

The leader signaled to the men holding Merlin, and then everything went to hell.

One of the men lashed out with frightening speed for someone of his size, landing a devastating blow in the center of Merlin's back at the very second the servant was released. Arthur watched the kick connect, heard the pained cry, felt the thump as Merlin sprawled face-first onto the forest floor, hands tied behind his back, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Arthur had received similar kicks before, and he knew all too well the terror-inducing breathlessness that accompanied such injuries. He'd rarely wanted to kill someone as much as he wanted to kill the bandit who had inflicted such pain and panic on his servant.

But they weren't done yet. It got far, far worse.

The leader of the bandits stepped forward then, and squatted at the feebly stirring Merlin's side, still facing the king. Every muscle in Arthur's body tensed; his heart pounded deafeningly in his ears. Something very bad was going to happen, he could feel it in every fiber of his being. He'd seen enough violence and war and bloodshed, enough monsters, to know that this was far from over.

The bandit leader reached over and fingered the fabric of Merlin's neckerchief – he'd worn the blue one today. Arthur watched the idea form in the man's head even as Merlin began to recover a bit of his breath and attempted to squirm away from the bandit's touch. "Interesting fashion choice," the leader commented, sarcasm slathered generously on each word. "Makes my job easier though."

He clenched his meaty fist around the back of Merlin's scarf, and, keeping his eyes trained on the knight before him, slowly pulled up.

To Arthur, the world had slipped into slow motion. It was like the minutes just before a storm, when nature held its breath, birds forgot how to sing, and all of creation readied itself for the violence to come. He watched, horror coursing through him, as the first waves of realization and then panic dawned on his servant's dazed face. Blue eyes bulged wide, mouth opened in a soundless scream, and still, the bandit pulled.

The bandit took his time. He was in no rush. Arthur could see from the wild, glassy glint in his beady green eyes that he was relishing the control he had over the situation, over the man he was strangling. He never looked away from Arthur, not even when the agonized choking, coughing, gasping, hacking sounds began in earnest. Arthur, for his part, tried to ignore the man, and, as much as it hurt him, tore at his soul and twisted his stomach, the king kept his eyes on Merlin, trying to offer him comfort, reassurance, anything. Until Merlin's eyes started to dim, and his eyelids drooped as if a heavy weight had been tied to them, and the frantic heaves of his chest grew weak, and he knew Merlin was dying.

Despite his resolve to remain strong and unaffected, and despite his hopes that the bandit leader would grow tired of his cruel game if he thought Arthur was not emotionally invested, Arthur lost control. It had become clear to him that the man torturing Merlin did not care if he elicited a reaction from his other prisoner. He was tormenting – killing – Merlin because it was fun for him; the pleasure had written itself into his bright eyes and twisted smile. And Merlin was going to die.

Arthur lunged forward, a feral yell bursting from the deepest part of himself, and even with his hands bound behind his back and his ankles tied together, he nearly managed to shake off all of the four men holding him – and then three more added to their number, and Arthur found himself face-down just feet from Merlin, who was all but unconscious, barely fighting to breathe, and the pressure of the bandits on top of him was crushing. Arthur barely felt it beneath the weight of his failure.

The bandit leader now loomed over both master and servant, and to Arthur's surprise, he eased up pressure, releasing his grip slightly on Merlin's neckerchief and allowing the servant to drag in desperate, halted breaths, his eyes now bulging. Merlin coughed, deep, raw sounds grinding out from a shredded throat. Arthur could see a terrible, angry red line circling Merlin's neck, just beneath the neckerchief.

"Merlin – are you all right?" Arthur kept his voice low, hushed.

Tears were streaming down Merlin's cheeks, whether from fear or lack of oxygen or pain, Arthur didn't know. He tried to speak, and his voice hurt to hear; he sounded like his vocal chords had been slashed. "Aarrrrr…"

"Shhh," Arthur soothed, partially out of concern for Merlin's health, partially out of fear that Merlin would reveal Arthur's true identity. "It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe, okay? I'll find a way out of this." And Merlin looked at Arthur with such unmitigated trust in his gaze that Arthur felt like running himself through with his sword, because he had no plan. He had no hope. Surely, Merlin could see that, even in his state. Arthur had seven bandits piled on top of him, holding him motionless. The guilt crashed into Arthur with all the force of a battering ram into a fortress door. This was all his fault.

"S'not … your … fault," Merlin heaved out with great difficulty, and Arthur's blood ran cold. He was certain he hadn't said that out loud. How had Merlin known? It hit him – Merlin had known that Arthur was blaming himself because he knew Arthur.

The moment shattered as the bandit leader butted in, voice loud and abrasive, sending chills of fury across Arthur's flesh like an attacking army. "Now that you've got your breath back, Merlin, let's start from the top."

Arthur watched Merlin's eyes go wide with fear, and Arthur must have been giddy with it himself, because he could have sworn he saw a tiny bit of gold swirling in their depths right before the neckerchief was tightened and the imagined flame died out, and only terror remained.

The second time was just as slow and measured as the first. The bandit applied pressure in the tiniest increments, and this time, Arthur got a front-row view of the light leaving his friend's eyes. The noises were even worse up close, the coughs and gasps taking on the helm of death rattles. Merlin thrashed at first, trying to escape, to breathe, to do anything, and his lips lost color and turned blue, and now he was barely moving, barely breathing, and this time, the bandit leader had no intention of stopping.

Merlin's head and shoulders were now being held aloft by only the fabric around his neck, and his struggles ceased completely, his chest stilled.

Arthur squirmed desperately beneath the hold of the seven bandits, but even the adrenaline screaming through his body was not enough to throw them off. He could fear hot tears on his cheeks, knowing that if Merlin was not dead now, he would be soon. Arthur had been tortured before – it wasn't a common occurrence, but it had happened. And yet, nothing had prepared him for the kind of torture he had endured – was still enduring – in watching his closest friend die slowly and painfully, terrified, right in front of him. Arthur wanted to rip the men who were doing this limb from limb. He wanted to slowly squeeze the life out of the one strangling Merlin.

He wanted them to be strangling him instead.

All seemed lost – and would have been, if a Camelot patrol hadn't heard the commotion from a distance and come to investigate. There were six men, and they had the element of surprise. One moment, all was anguish and torture and the gut-clenching quiet that came at the end of life. The next, a short, fierce battle raged all around him. As soon as the bandits loosened their grip on him and Gwaine cut him free, Arthur joined the fight, catching the sword tossed at him by Elyan.

He ran through the man who had tortured his servant personally, with the same level of twisted glee and intimacy with which the man had strangled Merlin. It was so much more than he deserved.

Once the bandits had all been slain and lay scattered on the forest floor, Arthur raced to Merlin's side, slamming to his knees beside the servant. His hand shook so badly as he felt for the beat of Merlin's heart that Elyan had to take over, and his dark eyes were grave as he looked back at Arthur and shook his head.

"No," Arthur said simply, refusing to believe that Merlin was truly gone, that he had watched his friend die terribly before his eyes. "No, check again."

"No time for that," Gwaine snapped, falling to his knees on the opposite side of the servant and bending over the prone body. The blue of Merlin's lips was almost as vibrant as the color of the neckerchief that had so cruelly been turned against him.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of anxiety, disbelief, and finally relief, as Gwaine breathed for him, Arthur pounded on his chest, and Percival carried him home.

***

Merlin hadn't worn his neckerchief since that torturous day. He was sullen and nervous, jumping at small noises and avoiding Arthur, and refusing to wear anything to cover up those ghastly bruises.

He hadn't been able to talk for nearly a week after he'd woken up; Gaius said he was lucky that his windpipe wasn't crushed. But even after, Merlin barely spoke.

And gods, those bruises.

They encircled Merlin's pale neck like a grotesque mockery of the very scarf that had caused it. They had reached the stage where the very edges had started to yellow, but the inner ring was black, mottled with red and blue. Just looking at it hurt, and it was a constant reminder of the torture Merlin had gone through … and that Arthur had gone through, watching him. Arthur could not fathom that Merlin would prefer to walk around with those bruises in plain sight – surely they had to trigger bad memories as much as, if not more than, the neckerchief?

It was stupid, but Arthur couldn't stop himself thinking that when Merlin wore his neckerchief again, it would mean things were back to normal. That he was okay.

And so Arthur had a neckerchief made out of the finest material Guinevere could procure in the market. It was silk, so soft to the touch that Arthur wouldn't have minded falling asleep in it. It was a deep, Camelot red, and so light it was almost weightless.

When he presented it to Merlin, yesterday morning, the servant's eyes had twitched down to it, and where Arthur had thought he'd see gratitude, maybe even a hint of a smile, he saw only trepidation. Merlin had rasped a pained, "Thanks," then grabbed the scarf by one corner like it was a serpent poised to strike and shoved it into his pocket, out of sight. He hadn't worn it since.

"I don't understand," Arthur said to his wife over dinner, distress clear in his voice. "I replaced it."

"He's just not ready," Gwen soothed, though her brow was knit in worry.

"It's of a much finer material than his old one," Arthur insisted, as if he were trying to convince Gwen that Merlin should wear it.

"You have to be patient with him, Arthur. What happened to him was… traumatic. He has to come to terms with it in his own time."

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. "I just can't stand looking at his bruises."

Gwen squeezed his hand, her eyes sad and wise and more beautiful than anything that Arthur had seen. "I know it hurts," she said, "and I mean no disrespect, but… Arthur, this isn't about you. It's not about your discomfort, it's not about the pain you went through seeing Merlin be hurt like that."

Arthur opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, not even knowing if he was going to argue or agree with her.

Gwen held up a hand. "I'm not saying that what you went through was unimportant. I can't even imagine watching…" She trailed off, shuddered. "But you can't expect Merlin to wear something that causes him so much pain and fear, just because it makes you uncomfortable."

Arthur knew she was right, and told her so. He would have to find a way to look past the bruises, for now.

Merlin was avoiding Arthur – there were no two ways about it. He got to work early, woke Arthur, and then ran off to do the rest of his chores. Finally, at the end of week two, Arthur cornered him in the armory.

"Merlin." Arthur's face was serious, his eyes uncharacteristically concerned.

"Sorry, Sire, I have work to do," Merlin said stiffly. His voice still sounded as if it were being painfully squeezed from him. He tried to leave, but Arthur caught his arm, pretended he didn't see Merlin flinch.

"For the love of… if I give you the day off, will you stay and talk to me?"

Merlin's eyes were wide and his scowl looked more pathetic than annoyed. "I suppose I have little choice in the matter."

Arthur's heart constricted. "Merlin, I—"

"Look, I'm sorry I haven't been wearing the neckerchief," Merlin blurted, avoiding Arthur's eyes. "I just… I know you we retrying to help, but… Hold on, I'll go get it right now," he flustered. His cheeks were red and his eyes bright.

"Merlin, stop."

Merlin stopped.

"I realize I haven't been fair to you," the king said slowly, carefully. "I haven't been patient. What happened was… wrong. Do you need to talk to me about it?"

The dam broke.

Arthur had never seen Merlin cry like this before. He'd seen tears in his friend's eyes on various occasions, but never had he witnessed the choking, uncontrollable, full-bodied sobs that were now wrenched from the depths of Merlin's soul. At first, Arthur stood, uncertain, terrified that he was going to say or do the wrong thing, but then he thought of Merlin, and tried to imagine what he would do for him if the king were in this situation. A strange calm descended over him, and he gently took Merlin by the arm and guided him to the nearest chair – Arthur's chair, the most comfortable one in the room, the one he never let anyone else sit in, not even Guinevere (she had her own, anyway).

He eased Merlin down, knelt beside him, and wrapped one arm around his servant's shoulders, and just held him while he released all of the pain and frustration and fear and trauma he'd been skirting around for weeks. Arthur felt the hot sting of a tear mark a course down his own face, and he didn't brush it away. He felt, like Merlin was feeling – felt the pain of the torture inflicted on them both, felt the violent sobs shaking Merlin's wiry frame, and finally, felt the tremors ease and stop all together, but he didn't withdraw his arm. He might have even squeezed a little bit tighter, as if assuring himself that his friend was still there, still breathing, despite how hard those bandits had tried to kill him.

Finally, Merlin shifted awkwardly, and Arthur became acutely aware of the fact that his arm was still around the servant's shoulders, and he withdrew with a start, backing away with haste.

Merlin turned to look at him, and his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, the bruises on his neck still visible and angry, and tear tracks streaked down his face. Arthur watched him apprehensively, afraid that Merlin was going to say something emotional that Arthur wouldn't know how to respond to, or worse, openly acknowledge the unusual level of tenderness that had permeated that moment. Instead, Merlin quirked a watery half-smile and simply said, "Thank you."

Relieved, Arthur smiled back. "You're welcome. Feeling better, are we?"

Merlin gave a small, almost timid, nod. "A little bit, actually. I think."

Desperate for some return to normalcy, chest warm with the hope that Merlin really would be okay, someday, Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "Then get your scrawny arse out of my chair."

Merlin actually laughed then, and settled in deeper to the comfortable seat. "Sorry, sire," he said. "I think my scrawny arse is stuck here until further notice."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Merlin blushed. "I… I don't think I can stand right now," he admitted, and Arthur noted with concern that Merlin's knees were indeed trembling. Merlin was trembling.

Arthur rolled his eyes like it was some great inconvenience. "Fine," he said. "Laze about like the useless servant you are. I'll fetch Gaius."

Merlin surged forward at this, almost fell flat on his face. "I don't need –" He broke off as Arthur shoved him back in the seat. "Gaius."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You were saying?"

Merlin had never looked so much like a sullen, scolded child.

***

When Arthur returned, Gaius not far behind him, he was shocked to find that Merlin was still where the king had left him. Even more surprising was the fact that Merlin held the silk neckerchief that Arthur had gifted him, almost reverently, gazing down at the fabric with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Merlin, where did you get that?" Arthur asked.

"My pocket."

"You've been carrying that around all week?"

Merlin didn't answer, but he didn't need to – it was obvious that he had been.

Arthur heard Gaius shuffle through the door behind him, but did not turn. He kept his eyes on Merlin, who continued to contemplate the scarf like he had never seen anything like it before. "Merlin, you don't have to wear that," Arthur said in a rush. "I just thought–"

"I know," Merlin interrupted, and that's when Arthur knew his servant was on the mend, because a Merlin who lacked all decorum and propriety was far more normal than one who was actually good at being a proper servant. "But, it's nice. And I was thinking, I've never owned anything so fine." He paused. "But I think I'll leave it at home when we go on hunts and patrols from now on." He gazed up at Arthur imploringly.

The king felt Merlin's eyes on his front and Gaius's on his back. He looked Merlin straight in the eyes and said, "You don't have to wear anything you don't want to, Merlin. If you never wear a ridiculous triangle scarf again, that's completely fine. Don't do it because you feel like you have to. You won't hurt my feelings."

Merlin grinned – a full, mischievous smile that Arthur hadn't seen in far too long. "When have I ever given you the impression that I care about protecting your feelings, Sire?"

Arthur tried to look stern, but ended up laughing out loud. "Fair point," he conceded.

He and Gaius watched with bated breath as Merlin tied the new neckerchief very loosely around his neck. A moment of tense silence, then –

"Does this make me look like a prat?"

"Merlin!"

Arthur knew that the ordeal wasn't over just because Merlin had put on the neckerchief. There would still be nightmares and anxiety and days where Merlin couldn't stand to have anything touch his neck. But this was progress. This was hope.

For this one moment, this was Arthur and Merlin, as they had always been, and all was well with the world.

For now, that was more than enough.