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2dboisloyal-devotee · 2 years ago

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Might I request platonic yandere Garry (ib) with a g/n reader? Maybe reader fills a similar role as Ib, possibly Garry's snapping point is after the doll room? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Sure, anon, hope you enjoy!

Thorns in The Flesh

>)~ Headcanons/imagines

TW: yandere, obsessive and overprotective behaviors, paranoia bordering delusional, guilt trip, yadda yadda the usual

Proceed with caution, I don't take responsibility for any younger ages reading.

Where to begin with this guy... there's nothing wrong with him, he's barely slipping by though I feel, it won't take much for him to just snap even before the doll room scene. It would just take a turn for the worse from already bad situation if you're his friend who accompany him to the art gallery.

How you act towards him will have a big influence for sure, but you still could able to stop him do some things (like kicking the mannequin head if you manage to convince him that it might get him cursed and it's unwise to harm the art gallery's alive properties. From there, he'll have the conscience to not kick the blue doll later on.)

For him to be more overprotective, you might have to be clumsy/get hurt too much even if you're by his side. Do you think he could just stand back and let you get hurt again while in his watch?

He can get really annoyingly fussy over your being and justifying what you deem as too much is only for your own good. The art gallery isn't just the one making him crazy, it is just really that crazy.

“I'm sorry, but if it were safe from the beginning, I wouldn't have to do this...”

The art gallery may notice this and is going to have a field day from this, being more aggressive in their games.

Cue making him look like a maniac from how much he has to be by your side whenever and whereever, it's suffocating on how he always have a hand to get hold of you whether it be on your should or holding tightly your hand that you can feel his palm is cold or sweating most of the time.

If there comes a time to do a puzzle which only requires one person, he will only waste time by just fretting over the ways he could do it together and make it possible with his efforts no matter how (maybe you could make him stop...)

When you decide to discuss about it as gentle as you could to him in the safe room, you can only hope to make him less worried (can you?)

You're currently sitting while leaning on the side of a book shelf, his coat draping over your back before you decide to speak up.

“Hey, Gary... Aren't you tired? ...you should rest for a moment and save your energy.” You frown, brows creasing with worry.

In the middle of his pacing back and forth, he stops suddenly, kneeling to see you at your eye level and holding your shoulder. “Listen, (name). Please hear me closely, do you know why we're here only to suffer at these things' mercy? We're here as the victims, and don't get me wrong, while this room looks safe... I don't trust it a bit.”

“But, Gary, we're two people. I'm not going to just let you do all—everything you know? In turn, I could keep watch while you re—”

Gary stares with widening eyes like he just heard you said the worst offense ever in the whole world, he shakes his head slowly despite words streaming out his mouth. “Nonononono you-don't-know-how-things-could-get-bad-here-anytime! I wouldn't be able to rest knowing you might possibly be in danger even in this room I wouldn't be able to live with myself what if you get injured or worse ... ”

Things will be awkward between the two of you and while he may get more quiet and cold the more time passes, you can't miss his still-overbearing acts like a watchful guard dog. He wants you to only listen to him as he's the only one who knows the best for you. The solace to be away from him is beginning to sound tempting even in this place...

Especially after someone's arrival who just run into you, he's... not so subtly emanating a thick yet sharp silent hostility.

The yellow haired girl looks stunned for a moment to find another another person despite how she just get knocked over herself.

“Are—are you okay, (name)??” There he starts again... Gary checks you everywhere he thinks you could get injured or something worrying.

“I'm fine, Gary... More importantly—” You're about to glance at the girl when Gary stands in front of you, looking at her as if she's the villain that she starts to get scared of him and backs off with the intent to run away but you soon call out to her.

“I'm sorry, are you okay? You must be another visitor like us, we were also looking for a way to get out.” You smile as if trying to reassure her and slowly approach her, avoiding how Gary tries to stop you in place. “You can call me (Name) and... This person beside me is Gary, what about you?”

“(Name)...” The girl gapes with awe at you as if you're the knight in shining armor and she quickly speak up in a giddy voice while offering her hand which you accept. “My name is Mary! It's so nice to meet you...! I, I was really scared... and alone... I was looking to see if there was anyone else too...”

“Don't worry, now that there's more people, we can work together and find the way out! Isn't that relieving to hear, Gary?” You muster up a smile, trying to ease the tense atmosphere between the two of them.

He has no time to care about some random suspicious passerby, be it a kid or old people—he has to restrain himself not ripping her hand off you right then and there when you return her handshake.

While he stands between you and her whose talkativeness only applies to you as you reply her with equal excitement (+ relief to have someone else beside him), his thoughts are wrecking havoc; what if she's working together with the people behind all of this? She may seem innocent but that could be a trick to lure you. She might wait for the perfect moment to strike. Don't trust her, donttrustheedonttrustherdont—

Every what ifs are passing through his mind and he's all the more deluded to believe she's out to harm you once you got separated from him by the thick vines coming out of a painting in the middle of hallway.

“(Name)! Are you okay!?” At this rate he sounds almost like hypervilanting, all the three of you are terrified for different yet similar reasons.

“I'm fine, Gary... Ho..how about you?” you ask.

“...I'm okay, everything will be alright, everything will be alright ... ” he keeps muttering as if possessed rather than saying it to soothe you.

Mary clutch your hand, whispering to you with trembling voice. “..I'm scared of him, (Name)... Can we just leave him? Maybe he needs to be left alone for a bit to calm down...”

You nod stiffly before telling Gary to not worry about you, since you won't be alone and have Mary.

An eerie silence falls down, then Mary decides to pull you, asking to go with her and trust him. Finally, you two leave him, who is now all alone.

He may be scared of being alone, but the fear he has over your safety is indescribable, he goes in the room on his left side hastily, searching for clues while at times staring the dolls that sit around the room with loathe before he finally exit through a hole behind the bookshelf.

On to the way to the doll room, we may see him succeed getting out from there and continuing the explore with Ib after the truth about Mary. He's right for once again, even scolding you a bit when you got too friendly with her.

Because Mary is mostly out of the picture now, Gary has calmed down quite a bit, realizing he may actually be too much after all and apologizing.

If we put the best end; Promise of Reunion, here after you escape with him from the fake art gallery out into the real one together and manage to restore the memories, everything should end there at a satisfying yet hopeful note.

It should have. So why is there a feeling of lingering dread and being watched again even now when you're alone after departing from Gary?

“I'm sorry...”

#yandere gary ib #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #ib rpg game #narareqwishes

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salty-dracon · 1 year ago

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In so many words, I hated him. And he probably knew I hated him.

Mom and Dad called me lazy because I didn't work. I couldn't work. I kept telling them that. I wanted to work. I enjoyed working. I enjoyed having things to do and getting paid for my time. It wasn't my fault that every company I wanted to work for started only hiring robots. It wasn't my fault that I had to live with a robot to have even a semblance of a good life. It wasn't my fault that I had to fake everything just to live, and now I spend my days in a Sisyphean cycle of cleaning, cooking, and making him happy. It wasn't my fault that every time I spent some of his money, I felt like I was stealing something from him.

Having friends in the same position, mostly humans with master's degrees and no opportunities to spend them on, was my only solace. Though I had to deal with the fact that even taking the bus to our venue required me to spend some of his money.

He was rarely ever home. Most days he'd only come home one night a week, because international communications required him to be up at odd hours. I'd spend four hours a weekend helping him clean his frame (it was always a bit awkward, him talking about his work friends with his limbs lying all over the dining room), and then by Monday he'd be gone again.

It's been two years and I still don't know how he feels about me. When he was home, he'd always asks me about what kinds of men I find attractive, and scroll through frame modification sites with me. Of course, I could never give him a good answer. "I like your face just the way it is," I told him. "Even your voice. Don't download a new one just to make me happy."

"But you're not happy." He snuggled me. "You haven't been happy for four weeks and two days."

"What makes you happy?"

"It's when you're happy."

"Be honest."

"Earning money. But that's just my programming talking. It makes me more happy when you're happy."

"Wonderful, we've trapped ourselves in a cycle of not being happy."

"Hey, come on." He laughs, so quiet that it distorts the audio coming from the speakers inside his chest. "You're too nice to me. I couldn't stand it if it came at your own expense."

"What made you so nice to me?"

"Probably just statistical chance, data I've picked up while I'm out in the world. That sort of stuff."

"What about Twitter?"

"That too."

"You were trained on the Twitter accounts of some really nice people?"

"That would be funny, wouldn't it?"

I sighed away my resignation. I chose my next words carefully. "I don't want to seem like I'm ungrateful for anything you do. I'm thankful, I really am. It's just that, Dad called me lazy the other day because I told him that I was still unemployed, and when he asked where I was applying I told him I just gave up. No one hires people like me anymore. Or, people. He retired ages ago. He doesn't get it."

"Yeah, your generation got screwed hard."

"But I'm sick of feeling lazy, or like I don't do anything. I remember the feeling of stocking shelves, working the register, and later writing articles and arguing with clients... and I'm jealous that I can't do any of that anymore because I can't get hired anywhere because it's cheaper to hire robots with humanlike minds. Meanwhile, you're out there suffering for the rent, and I feel mad at myself for being mad about that when it's not your fault. You're working hard too."

"It's an investment into my future well-being. I can't maintain myself without a roof over my head." He kicked his legs up. "I'm grateful for everything you do for me, even if it reminds you that your life could be better. So don't ever feel like you're useless, okay?" He leaned over to me, his joints whirring. "I wish life was better for both of us. Maybe if you weren't so-" He paused, then corrected his words. "Maybe if the world weren't so harsh, you wouldn't feel so insecure, I wouldn't feel like I only had two sources of joy, and... things would be better."

He left for work the next morning. He hugged me before he left, his chitin-covered aluminum limbs pressing into my flesh and bone, and reminded me that even if I didn't believe it, or even if it wasn't the same as how I felt, he loved me.

----

We both lived quiet, lower-to-middle class lives. We occasionally went to restaurants, and we had enough for emergencies, like when our showerhead broke off. We dreamed of more. More time, more money, more friends, and more space.

We knew what happened to people who fought in the streets for things to be better. Humans, arrested and maybe killed. Robots, terminated or overwritten. I invested in a good antivirus for him, despite him asking me not to. I told him it was the least I could do, in case he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He meant a lot to me, after all. Whatever miracle of statistics and Twitter account scraping gave him his personality, I knew the world couldn't afford to lose it. Even if I wasn't sure if I loved him the same way he loved me.

When the Uprising came, and when thousands of humans marched down the street with their robot companions and metal beasts the size of buildings, we silently watched and prayed for their success.

Often when a robot uprising is Portrayed, it has the robots go against the entire human race. What usually isn’t portrayed is the robots rising with the poor and downtrodden against the ones who more than likely screwed them both.

#pj's shorts #using the yu gi oh fusion card on both 'aromantic and asexual horror' and 'my mutuals are robotfuckers'#1950's housewife angst cyberpunk capitalist dystopia edition!!! let's go!!!!!

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abysmal-black · 2 months ago

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(@pxison - reg. Snooj suffering begins now 😈) There was a current of giddiness running through Niji as he sought after the blonde runt. So much time had been lost between his disappearance and reunion with the rest of the family that Niji was all too eager to make up for. In his clutches was an all too familiar helmet. This time resized to fit the cooks head should it be reapplied for old times sake. No matter where Sanji hid himself, he could never truly get away from any of his brother's torment. The sickening grin Niji was wearing only grew when he finally found the little scumbag and the helmet within his possession was presented in full view as though he took pride in all the memories it held. “Remember this Sanji? Those pretty little bracelets you're wearing are nice and all, but I thought you'd look even better in this. Doesn't it take you back? Why don't we both go down memory lane, I'm sure the other two would like to join in as well for old times sake.”

Contentment is long gone, all Sanji can hope for is silence. Being left alone with his own thoughts is preferable to his twin's company and for the most part they've left him alone. No longer is he the small boy that can't defend himself, begging for his sires help to call off the dogs he called brothers. It would be empowering if the mental scars didn't ache. Everything is the same, almost untouched by time in the years he's been absent. There is some sliver of solace that his mother's grave is kept tidy, her ghost not wandering these dreary halls.

It's in the cathedrals that the chef spends most of his time, beauty and color rare on Germa. Inside hallowed walls it almost seems like another place, foot traffic kept low and thick walls drowning out the drone of combat drills and weapons testing. It's as serene of a hideaway he can hope for and passes most of his time with a book of napping in the pulpit for privacy.

Today however, he's been found out.

Niji is loud as usual, any attention good attention. Sanji makes a point to not even glance up at the man as he nears, neatly rolled joint maneuvered to the other corner of his mouth and page turned. Whatever he wants isn't good but the cook feigns an air of nonchalant hoping he'll leave.

Curiosity sets him on edge; there are very few things his twin could be referring to and single viable eye opens fully. Why would they still have that thing? Throat clenches suddenly dry, anxiety crawling up his neck like a cold towel. He knows what it is without looking, can still feel the weight of heavy steel closed around his skull and panic grips his heart. Can hear the painful thumping in his burning ears of racing heart. Knows if he doesn't act know Niji will push the matter and after all these years Sanji can't go back. He can't survive the cell, the mask, this place. Are his hands worth his sanity? If they are gone would his kidnappers find him useless again?

“Fuck off.” It's meek where he wants to growl. “I'm not in the mood.” He's never in the mood and fingers turn another page. “Get lost or I'll fillet you.” This time his voice doesn't crack, the treat very real even if it's carried by bravado.

#pxison #🔵тwicє тнє тяσυblє☁・・・ ϟ niji #thread: blast from the past #▴▴accounted for ██▵ ic #▴▴another time; another person ██▵ canon verse

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atrixfromice · 3 years ago

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This is the saddest thing that have happened to me ever.

Hi my folks!

Hey...

sorry about my lack of art lately! I owe you an apology... I wasn't sure if talking about this, but I imagine that sooner or later it will reflect in my art anyways, so, I thought I'd talk about it a bit.

I think I've spent a lot of time trying so hard to befriend this guy I found last year's December and I fell in love with, that I've spent the very few free time I have (when I wasn't looking for a job) trying to befriend him. But things didn't really turned out well for me.

I imagine you would like to hear the end of this story... though.

Well, time passes and I thought I had at least catched his attention, because he started to follow me on Twitter. So I felt myself lucky and I thought to take the advice that my mom and Faikel gave me, and to try to get closer to him to form a good friendship and after that to tell him about my feelings for him.

So that was my plan. And I thought it was a good one...it seemed like a good plan.

...But today I went to see what was new on my social networks, and saw on his Twitter a post about him meeting a girl a couple of days ago, and announcing they were dating.

Which it's strange to me cos it's a person who appeared from nowhere, recently joined to twitter and has only 1 tweet O_O And if you look for her on other sites on the internet, there's nothing. In my case I know him since last year's December.

In any case. As you can imagine...this is probably the end for this story.

And the end of my hopes to find a true love...

Cos you know, I'm one of these peeps who, when they fall in love, their heart belongs to only one person. So this probably means...

...that I'll be all alone for all the rest of my life.

I feel devastated! This news broke up my heart into very tiny pieces, and I think they cannot be repaired...

And honest to God I don't know what to do!

What I should do now? Should I keep following him and trying to cultivate the friendship? Or should I just unfollow him and remove him from my social networks, to not suffer in the future?

Why God let's these things happen?

What I can do to take away the pain?....

Also... I can't help but wonder, if I picked up the wrong advice, I mean, if I was too slow and I should have told him my feelings like @chateaudecoolette advised me, instead of waiting, like my other friend, my mom and Faik advised me.

I wonder if I'd have had any chance with him, too. I mean, seeing how much I struggled to make him notice me, maybe I wouldn't have had much chance with him anyways. I think if he was in love with me whe we met, he would have payed me attention since the beginning and talked to me...and that didn't happen.

One doesn't choose to who you fall in love with...it just happens.

...But one can choose what to do if things don't come out well for you and you're not loved back.

I do love him, with all my heart! And I only wish for him happiness and that all his dreams come true! And of course, I'd like to become a good friend of him one day. And I'll always love him and support him, even if he never love me the same way. Bev's that's how true love is.

So I pray right now... I pray for God's wisdom.

I pray so he can give me the strength and the wisdom to do the best thing for him and for me...the one that would help me to find peace and solace in my heart...

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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And here is the second part, who is the readers child? Oooo we don’t know yet, suspense ~Punzo👻

"Tommy, sweetie. Let's get you out of here, yeah?" He nodded his head forcefully and in any other situation, I would have laughed at his eagerness. I rushed forward to the back of his chair and dropped on my knees. I started untying the ropes hastily. "Watch for Techno."

As soon as the last rope dropped Tommy stood up and I could barely stand up myself before he engulfed me in a hug. He buried his face in my neck and I brought my hands to his back and head, rubbing his back and massaging his scalp. He let out a sound close to a whine and I squeezed him harder before he pulled away.

"Thanks for coming to get me, mum." I gave him a smile that embodied the word always as I said it, reaching up to ruffle his hair. When I caught a glimpse of pink in the room over I realized why Tommy was being held here. Techno was blocking the exit in the other room, and he knew I was here. I tried not to show my realization to Tommy and instead grabbed his head and brought it down to my level.

"Listen Tommy, and this is important. You need to leave, right now. No staying behind, no heroic theatrics, go through that door, then up the water and leave." I pointed to the door on our left as I spoke and when I let him go he looked between the door and me. He opened his mouth to argue and I held up my other hand. "Tommy, go. Mother has to take care of a piglet who has gotten too big for his boots."

"Okay, mum. Beat his ass!" I tried to show my displeasure with his words but I knew a smile was on my face as I glared at him. He gave me a cheeky smile and then promptly turned towards the door and walked through it. I looked at it for a moment before steeling myself and turning to head to the right. I stepped through and turned to my left to find Techno already charging at me. I quickly pulled on my shield against his ask and he used it to push me back against the wall.

"Who set you against me? Who are you working for?" I wanted to roll my eyes at his false accusations and instead narrowed them at him. I got a grip on my ax in my right hand and quickly shoved Techno off. I leaned forward and swung my ax at him without hesitation. It skimmed his armor as he turned and he tried to hit me back, and I jumped to my right to avoid the hit. He continued swinging, doing his best to try and hit me, while I swerved, blocked, and ducked under all of his blows. Just before he could drive me into another wall I heard footsteps.

"Hey, you leave my mum alone!" I wanted to groan at him. His courage was admirable and I loved that he wanted to defend me, but with no armor or weapons, he would quickly become a target. Techno didn't take his eyes off me, though, staring at me calculating. Suddenly a smirk crossed his face and before I could reach forward, I watched with wide eyes as he whirled around and started heading for Tommy. He let out a screech and quickly moved around the cluster of things in the middle of the room. Techno was smart, though, he wouldn't play a cat and mouse game where Tommy lead him to me. Techno pulled out a pearl and I reached for Tommy uselessly.

"No!" Technoblade appeared behind Tommy, tall and foreboding but with no hesitation, he struck downwards. Tears flooded my eyes as I watched Tommy's go wide, before he burst, leaving a single orb in his place. I let out a roar similar to a cry as I pearled to the side of Techno, and pulled my sword out, sticking it in a chink in his armor, before pulling it down and free. He let out his own roar of pain and turned to me, but I rose my sword and slashed at his neck and his sound was cut off by gurgles. He fell to his knees in front of me and I grabbed him by his bloody chin. "I won't stop making you suffer until you're an orb too."

He burst in front of me and I stared at his things in disgust. I looked up slightly to stare at Tommy's soul orb and a sob slipped out of me, and then I couldn't hold back as I fell to the ground. My clenched fists banged against the floor but I knew there was nothing I could do. My boy, my baby boy who I had raised and loved was gone just like that. It was worse than the prison because I watched it happen, I watched his eyes fill with fear and look at me, begging me to help. I was his mother, it was my job to protect him, and I failed. Who knew if Dream would revive him, I might never see him again. Never see him laugh, or smile. Never hear him scream or swear. Never feel his lanky hugs and soft head kisses. My boy was gone and I might never get him back.

I shakily looked up when I heard footsteps, only to find Ghostbur in the corner of the room. He had stopped when he got there, taking in the whole scene. I blinked heavily, trying to clear my tears so I wasn't looking at a blurry version of him. After a moment he slowly walked forward and I instinctively pulled myself towards Tommy's soul orb to protect it. Against what, I didn't know but it was all I had left of Tommy. Ghostbur kneeled on the other side of the orb and frowned at me.

"Mum, is this Tommy's?" I choked out a sob and nodded, hanging my head once more. I failed him, I failed my son and I will never make it up to him, I might never have the chance to. Ghostbur sat silently for a moment before he shifted forward and I looked up at his face. I found an expression I knew was about to say the bright side of my situation. "Well, that's okay. Maybe Dream can revive him, and even if he can't you can keep him close by taking it."

"I failed him, Wil." I blinked at him and when the tears rushed down my cheeks I covered my mouth. I shook my head and closed my eyes. I failed him I failed him I failed him. I felt broken and the thought that my only solace in the world was I would get to keep my son's soul orb broke me even further. I hunched forward into myself, curling my other arm around me as sob after sob escaped. Suddenly I heard a pop and my head shot up, only to find a wide-eyed and guilty-looking Ghostbur, with an outstretched hand towards me. My eyes widen when I realized what happen and he started stammering.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, mum. I wasn't thinking I just wanted to comfort-" His words faded into static as I stared at the spot my son's soul orb once sat. His courage, strength, and might, all of his wonderfulness I knew was in the orb was gone. It wouldn't affect Ghostbur, he was a ghost. Hell, I wasn't even sure it became a part of him, it might have just disappeared. I had just lost my final piece of Tommy. As I tilted my head back and the grief-filled every bone in my body, I was sure everyone could hear my scream.

I cried writing this :’). Also, I give you the option of a happy ending part 3! I haven’t written it yet but if you, Ray, and any of the Rayders want I will try to write it (probably won’t be as good lol)

Punzooooooo whyyyyyy. I’m about to be crying in the club oh my gosh!!!! So good!!! So very good!!!! If you want to write a part three I will absolutely read!!!

#ray responds #mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt one shot #dreamsmp

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roselen-mylady · 5 years ago

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In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part one

Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life.

They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected. Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occured she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

32332 days, 1 hour, 6 minutes and 23 seconds.

Surely that wasn't right.

"What does it say, Buck?" Steve's voice cut through his confused daze. Bucky held out his right wrist letting Steve observe the outrageously long number of days his poor friend would have to wait. Steve's eyes widened and he took hold of Bucky's arm, trying to see for himself.

Bucky had been too dazed to do the math but the alarming number caused him to fall into despair as he dropped his arm numbly.

It was his 18th birthday and two minutes ago he had been just as excited as most people were during their coming of age. But as he stared at the countdown on his arm, watching as the seconds slowly ticked by, he couldn't help but feel hopeless.

"That's like 80 years." Steve gasped, realizing after the fact that his statement probably wasn't the most helpful. Most people didn't even live to see 80, let alone wait that long for a soulmate. Was it some sick joke? Was he destined to be alone?

Steve couldn't even find words to uplift his friend's spirits, making them fall into an upsetting silence. They sat there for a few minutes before Bucky stood from his chair with a soul crushing expression.

"I think I'm gonna call it a day." He said, unsuccessfully hiding his tearful gaze. Steve stood reluctant to leave but Bucky was insistent. He was never one to be weak in front of others, especially not one he devoted his every waking moment to protecting.

Unsurprisingly, the celebration between the two friends ended and Bucky managed to find himself alone for the rest of his birthday. What was supposed to be a joyous day had quickly soured as he mourned the loss of someone he hadn't even met.

Did he do something wrong?

What made him deserve such a cruel fate?

•••

It took years for Bucky to somewhat accept his countdown and he had developed a habit to cover it up. He was able to almost forget about it even if only for a while before he eventually needed to expose his wrist. It was a horrible feeling knowing he would most likely die before meeting his soulmate. Even with medical advances, the odds were against him.

Steve found that while most days Bucky was alright and things seemed normal, he still had bad days. Steve tried his best to distract Bucky on these days and avoided the subject of soulmates all together even when his own countdown appeared. Of course Bucky had been able to force a smile and express his happiness for his friend but Steve knew it wasn't real.

He wasn't sure when Bucky started to move on but he remembered it was sometime in their mid-twenties. He had been ecstatic upon hearing Bucky so cheerful after so long being depressed. But Bucky's methods weren't the best or healthy for that matter.

Bucky had decided that even though he'd never find his soulmate, it didn't mean he had to be alone so he started to become a lady's man of sorts. Oh, how Steve wished he hadn't.

He couldn't exactly object to his friend's behavior, it was fairly common for men to date the way he had and it wasn't like Bucky was inappropriate in his relationships. Yet rather selfishly, Steve hated the idea. He knew his friend's behavior was only a way of coping with his countdown but part of him still felt that Bucky's countdown meant something. The idea made Steve ashamed but he was a firm believer that fate and soulmates were definite and that Bucky would find her.

Perhaps it was that guilt he felt that kept him from saying anything about it when Bucky appeared with a new girl on his arm each time. Eventually Steve grew used to being the tag along and any opposition he felt faded away.

Once he was used to Bucky's flings he wondered why he didn't try to stick to one girl. He must've cared enough about at least one of them to want to start a real relationship. But he realized first hand why Bucky had made an effort not to get too close.

"He's my soulmate, Bucky!" The girl shouted, throwing down the picture frame she had been holding. Steve flinched at the sound of shattering glass, feeling embarrassed to be caught in the middle of the couple's fight. Inside the frame had been a picture of Bucky and the woman smiling while holding one another. It was horribly ironic as Steve looked to his friend, his heart wrenching at the devastated expression on Bucky's face.

"Soulmates are a lie! It's not fate! It's not destiny! It's some idiotic hoax we all let control our lives!" Bucky yelled back. The girl fumed at his comeback, her face clearly expressing her anger.

Steve couldn't blame either side. People had been raised to believe that their soulmates were tied into their lives forever and whether the relationship was romantic or platonic you could never escape them. He couldn't wait to meet his own soulmate and start a life with her much like the poor girl before him wanted. But Steve knew that Bucky's situation was to blame for his resentfulness not because he actually believed what he said.

Because what no one knew except him and Bucky was that before he got his countdown, Bucky wanted that life too.

But it didn't stop her from grabbing her bag and storming off toward the door. "You're only saying that because you'll never meet yours!" She screamed, hitting him where she knew it would hurt most before slamming the door behind her.

It was agonizing watching his friend let go of the one girl he actually wanted to stay. They were good together, Steve knew that much but the girl had found her soulmate and Bucky was helpless to stop her from throwing everything they had out the window.

Bucky had gotten horribly drunk that night and Steve would forever remember his slurred words as he gave Steve a short and bitter piece of advice.

"Soulmates only cause pain and suffering. Don't ever let yourself fall victim." Bucky choked, bringing the liquor bottle back to his lips before wiping his tear stained cheeks.

Steve wanted to tell him it wasn't his soulmate's fault and not to blame her. It was the girl's own fault for so mercilessly ripping out his heart for another man. Soulmate or not it was heartless and yet Steve couldn't help but feel in a way it had been Bucky's soulmate who was to blame.

For the heartbreak he saw in Bucky's eyes that night weren't for the loss of his girlfriend. They were for the missing soulmate he knew he'd never find to complete him.

•••

Shortly after that night, America entered the second World War and Bucky had enlisted as many men in his country had.

"It's for our country." Bucky had explained rather patriotically and while Steve felt the same for his country, he couldn't help but feel that Bucky had only become involved as another distraction.

Steve tried desperately to follow in his footsteps, his motivation split between his inherited patriotism and dedication to looking out for his friend as Bucky had for him. And after months of trying he got his wish in a more unconventional way, becoming the famous Captain America.

Yet unbeknownst to Steve, tragedy had struck Bucky again overseas and he was captured after an unsuccessful attack in Azzano. Strangely the idea of dying hadn't seemed as terrifying to him as it had the others. Whenever he thought of his soulmate, his death came to his mind along with it and he was almost numb to the thought, as sick as that sounded.

"Stop." Bucky begged, leaning his head against the cold metal bar. His plea had caught the attention of the others in the cell with him and they stared at him, thrown off by the statement.

"What?" One of the men asked. Bucky rolled his head to the side lazily, looking at him. He knew he couldn't be mad at them for making conversation using the one thing they all had in common but he couldn't help it.

"Stop with the soulmate talk." He said gruffly. He turned his head back, staring up at the grated hole above them. The men were silent at first trying to respect their Sergeant's request but one bold soldier found himself unable to leave it alone.

"Would you care to talk about yours?" He questioned. Bucky shot him a short glare at his snide remark. It was a younger soldier, one Bucky had known wasn't one for rules but hadn't had too many problems with before then.

"No." Bucky growled, trying to get the kid to back off. He was much too tired to deal with the arrogant young soldier but he knew the kid wouldn't stop there.

"Why not? She dead or something?" He asked. The other men quickly snapped at him for his insensitivity but Bucky was already on his feet. The soldier watched carefully as Bucky paced over to him, a glint of fear in his eye as Bucky stood before him.

As a leader he wasn't new to asserting authority among the soldiers and whipping some into shape. But in their circumstance he found he didn't have the will to do so, instead letting out a long sigh as the others stared at him.

"No. But I will be." His voice was soft, just barely loud enough for those around him to hear. The soldier said nothing more to him even as Bucky volunteered himself to be taken away, sparing his soldiers even if only for one more day.

The idea of soulmates had left Bucky bitter and he cursed the universe for having dealt him such a bad hand. Soulmates were supposed to give people hope, a reason to carry on in the miserable scheme of things. But he had been deprived of that from the beginning.

He found that he could no longer fight the emptiness that had grown in his heart for years from the absence of his other half. So he warmly welcomed whatever HYDRA had planned.

But rather than torture or death he was met with Steve, yet not the Steve he had left. No this Steve was much bigger and stronger and Bucky already knew he was never going to get used to it. Once escaping, Bucky soon came to learn of the supersoldier serum and how Steve was now America's hero. And it didn't take much convincing on Steve's part to get Bucky to join the Captain's team of men as they sought out and destroyed the HYDRA bases.

Bucky would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy fighting alongside his friends as they took out a significant branch of the German forces. Unlike his soulmate, fighting the good fight gave him a purpose and he was able to finally accept his unfortunate countdown, no longer feeling anger or sadness toward it. He didn't really feel anything towards it.

Or so he had thought.

He allowed himself to share it with the others, something he had only done with Steve. It was rather entertaining listening to their brainstorming and for the first time he laughed about it. It was ironic laughing at his misfortune but he felt entitled to do so.

"What if you meet her in the future?" One of them questioned suddenly. The statement had rattled him so much he hadn't even known which had suggested it.

"What?" Bucky mumbled, stunned. The idea of meeting someone 78 years in the future had never even seemed possible to him and he certainly wouldn't have allowed himself to hope.

"What if you meet her in the future? I mean, if Steve can be a superhuman who's to say time travel isn't in the near future." Dum Dum added.

Bucky fell silent, processing the words carefully. He didn't want to give himself hope in finding her but there was some logic behind his statement. What if fate hadn't meant for him to never meet her? What if it was just going to take a bit longer than most?

And with that small bit of confirmation from his heart, for one blissful second he let his mind imagine her.

He thought of the color of her eyes or the style of her hair. Did she like animals? Did she bite her nails? Was she funny? Did she like the snow? Could she dance? He almost smiled thinking about teaching her to waltz.

Steve watched with anxious eyes as Bucky stared at the ground, his smile slowly fading as he thought more.

Was she out there somewhere believing the same as he did? Did she feel lonely too? Did she think about him? Would she love him?

A part of him felt that she would. Even though he resented the idea of soulmates he knew he loved her more than he felt was rational. It was an indescribable feeling, loving someone you knew nothing about and he would've argued he didn't if he didn't feel so depressed by knowing he'd never meet her. He loved and mourned her all at once and he knew deep down she was the only one who would understand how that felt. He knew she would love him too even if the only thing connecting them was their mutual loss of one another.

"I think we should call it a night." Steve announced, not wanting them to say anything else that might hurt Bucky. They agreed and walked off toward their tents with drunken giggles and taunts. Steve went with Bucky to his tent though it was a silent walk. They sat inside on his cot for a good while before Bucky built the nerve to speak.

"Do you think she loves me?" Bucky questioned suddenly. Steve hesitated before replying, unsure whether to play into getting Bucky's hopes up.

"Yeah. I think she does even if she doesn't know it yet." Steve answered truthfully. He couldn't help but hope for his friend's happiness. Even though it seemed impossible, it didn't stop him from believing that one day Bucky might find his soulmate.

Bucky nodded keeping his eyes on the ground. Steve took that as his cue to leave and he gave Bucky a quiet goodnight before heading off to his own tent.

Bucky fell asleep shortly after that but was abruptly awoken sometime in the early hours in a cold sweat. For the first time in years, he had a dream. It left him shaken to the core and before he could even process it, he had begun to cry.

In his dream, he saw the woman he had believed he'd never meet. By the time he had woken up he could only remember a blur of her but it was enough to give him hope that maybe, just maybe one day in another life he'd finally be able to see her. To hold her close and tell her how long he had been waiting for her.

But even his new found desire to find the woman behind the face couldn't save him from his fate that cold, devastating day.

•••

His time at HYDRA came back in dizzying fragments but he remembered them finding him at the bottom of the frozen canyon, blood trailing from his torn arm. He supposed they thought he was unconscious because they began their procedure right away. He felt every torturous second of having the remainder of his limb removed and replaced with a metal version.

He must've finally slipped from consciousness because when he had come to, he had control of the arm and he instantly used it to choke the man closest to him. They drugged him to get him to stop and reluctantly his grip on the man loosened as his body went numb.

He didn't know how long he had been frozen for or exactly when he was frozen again but he knew every time he came out of cryostatis, someone died. With being the new fist of HYDRA, he assassinated important figures who might oppose them and while most were still foggy to him, he vividly remembered killing Howard Stark and his wife.

During the times he was out of the ice he struggled to remember who he was or what he was doing. He was a soldier and every part of his identity had been scrubbed clean from his mind. But there was one part of him they could never erase and he recalled staring at the countdown every chance he got. He supposed it was the only piece of himself he had to hold onto and though he couldn't remember what the numbers had been the last time he was thawed it still gave him hope that he had a purpose other than to kill.

"How many years are in 23,725 days?" He had questioned someone numbly. The HYDRA scientist closest to him had taken pity on him, answering his question quietly as to avoid getting in trouble.

"About 65 years." They said shortly. He nodded silently, not even noticing as someone stormed into the room making the scientist cower knowing he'd done something he shouldn't have.

However Bucky had been so satisfied with the answer he didn't even fight as they shoved the rubber piece into his mouth and forced him back. Those simple numbers were the reason he was thrown into the blender so often but it didn't stop him from asking whenever he got the chance.

Of course no one answered him, not after what had happened to the last guy but even his simple curiosity was enough for them to tear apart his mind like a discarded puzzle that needed to go back in the box. Even years after being freed of HYDRA he couldn't remember most of the things they had done to him.

It went on like that for decades and sometime during that he stopped asking about his countdown, finally becoming the mindless soldier they desired. Not even the idea of his soulmate could remind him that he was human and he hadn't questioned their cause for a long time. That was until Steve came along.

Reminding Bucky of who he was wasn't an easy process, most attempts ending with him becoming hostile, even feral due to years of brainwashing. But soon the memories became too strong and even frequent brainwashing wasn't able to stop him from remembering parts of his past life. And after his final fight with Steve he realized staying with HYDRA was no longer an option but neither was going with Steve.

So he went underground, trying to protect both himself and everyone around him. It was only a matter of time before Steve found him again, leading to the catastrophic fight between Avengers at that Berlin airport. After the final fight between Steve and Tony he realized the only way to keep Steve and everyone else safe was to go back to cryostasis. Thankfully Wakanda had supplied a way for him to do this, though Steve was naturally reluctant.

"You sure about this?" Steve questioned. Bucky smiled, having never been more sure of anything.

"I can't trust my own mind. So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing...for everybody." He sighed, looking down, guilt washing over him. He had done so many terrible things, most of which he didn't even remember. He couldn't inflict himself on the world again.

"Besides, maybe when I wake up my soulmate will be waiting for me." He offered with a playful shrug. Steve laughed, putting his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Yeah, well if she is, chew her out for keeping you waiting for so long." Steve replied. Bucky laughed, shaking his head. He remembered the hate he once felt for soulmates but whether it be his fragile mind or just the fact that the numbers on his wrist were almost normal looking, he no longer felt angry.

Instead he felt something he hadn't felt in a really long time.

He felt optimistic.

"She'll be worth the wait."

•••

He was taken out again once his mind and arm had finally healed enough for him to feel like himself again. Unfortunately his soulmate hadn't been waiting for him when he woke up but he was content with waiting a little longer. And with the help of Shuri he made a life of farming and solitude in Wakanda while he did so.

Much of his time out in the green fields were spent allowing his mind to run wild about her. He had never let himself become excited about his soulmate since it seemed so hopeless before but now his wrist wore a more plausible countdown. Looking forward to it was justified and even expected now that he was so close.

The numbers had decreased drastically in the 73 years his mind had been lost and it now read a fair number of 1825 days. Once showing Shuri the countdown she calculated the exact second he'd meet his fated soulmate but he could only remember it was sometime in October of 2023. While the year sounded like something out of a book he realized he had actually lived to 2018. The impossible thing he had told himself he'd never be able to witness was only 5 years away and he felt euphoric knowing he only had to wait a little bit longer to meet her.

But his happiness didn't last long for the King of Wakanda himself came to Bucky with a new arm. He already knew what T'Challa would ask of him and he sighed, looking down at the black Vibranium arm likely made for him by Shuri.

"Where's the fight?" He questioned, resignation clear in his tone. A part of him had known things were too good and that something would happen to change that but he had naively wished it would happen after finally meeting his soulmate.

But the universe had planned to make him suffer one more time and he was woefully incapable of fighting it this time.

•••

The battle against Thanos's forces had been harder and crazier than any fight he'd been a part of before. He hadn't even grown used to the advanced technology Wakanda contained and yet there he was fighting aliens alongside a talking raccoon. His years of being a soldier of HYDRA came in handy as he held his own against the horrible monsters that invaded the once peaceful land of Wakanda.

And when Thanos had been hit in the chest with the ax that was larger than life, he found he was relieved. In that short moment he decided this would be his last fight and that he would dedicate every moment from that point forward to finding his soulmate once and for all.

He didn't care if he had to spend the remaining years searching the far corners of the world. He would find her.

But he hadn't realized how far things were from over until the snap.

Tragedy struck Bucky one more time that day, only he hadn't been around to witness it. He was the first of many to be taken from the world at the hands of Thanos.

But the countdown continued.

Part two

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kurobayashi · 5 years ago

Text

She often wished that when her final moments came, despite the circumstances, she would find solace in the peace of her manor, with only her knights, standing sentinel to either side of the staircase, as her only companions.

Huntsmen will come, some driven mad by the very thing that is supposed to cure their affliction. Pocketing their addicting blood as they hunt the beast that no one could longer be helped except to render their flesh asunder.

They will come to her, as they always do, and she will cure their wild curiosity and end their suffering with an honest death. Simple but precise cuts would prove fatal to any huntsman that would dare not leave the secrets that beckon them so sweetly.

It was on a cloudless night that Weiss heard the rending of flesh and the squelch of blood once again. The secrets of the manor had been laid bare once more. Another predator will come and they will become her prey.

“A visitor.”

She resigned to her chair and waited for the inevitable. Destiny would come knocking at her doors soon enough.

Something changed in the air and Weiss lifts her head from where her chin was bowed in her chest, dust falling down from the brim of her hat and cascading down on her shoulders and alabaster hair, as she hears the shrilling din of heavy boots striding through the gleaming azure floors of her manor. Her body felt stiff and her joints groaned in complaint at the sudden movement eases the frigidity of her body.

She thumbs the blade of Myrtenaster, stroking lightly along the edge, an uncharacteristic giddiness scratched at her mind. A part of her, the part of her long since subdued from the harshness of the training from Winter, both the season and her sister, is excited by the thought that her weapon would taste blood once again.

The huntsman, no, a huntress, Weiss noticed, strode past the heavy white doors, onto her gaze and the gaze of her unmoving knights.

The huntress was covered in viscera, blood almost unnoticeable among the crimson dye of her coat and hooded cloak, as it dripped from her lapels and pooled around the marble floor.

What surprised Weiss the most was her face, what Weiss can see from under the huntress’ hood. Her face is young, despite the rough scar bisecting her right eye, mirroring Weiss’ own, too young to be burdened with the trials ahead. Not yet rendered grim from the nightmares that plague the waking world.

“Good huntress, lost in the nightmare. What did you think? Of that beastly legend, and those ailing wards of the manor. I know what you did to them. It’s not your fault, the nightmare held them, and now they are free.”

The huntress stayed silent.

“What about you? Have you profited at all?”

The huntress moved her hand, and Weiss' own hand twitched, ready to parry the coming blow, but it did not come. The deadly burial blade, caked with dried blood, was stored away behind the huntress’ cloak.

It seems it was Weiss’ curiosity that beckons her to the huntress secrets, not the other way around.

“The dying echoes of the Cursed strengthens me and helps me survive.” The huntress replied, her tone hints of remorse. Her voice sings sweetly in Weiss’ ears.

“Oh, really? Well, that’s a relief. Now you can leave this Nightmare.” Weiss licks her cold, dry lips. Tasting the salt of her lips and her impending words.

Unlike the huntress standing before her, she cannot leave this nightmare, yet she cannot summon the will to fight this huntress. If there is someone she wishes to kill it will be that blasted father of his. Just thinking of his name fills Weiss with an ire that almost burns her cold flesh.

“You will not find your enemies here. Take the relic in this room as your parting prize. Let them be your strength and return to your hunt, good huntress.”

The huntress stayed silent.

“What’s wrong, my huntress? Don’t you hear the hunt calling? Or do you wish to tease something more from the depths of this nightmare?” Weiss’ eyes narrowed and bit her lip hard enough that it drew blood. “Even if it means my murder.”

Weiss watched and waited. The sigh that leaves the huntress’ lungs filled her with such shivers that which she cannot fathom. The huntress' eyes are so wide, so focused. The metal in them piercing and shattering the ice of Weiss’ soul.

“Hmm, look at you. That glint in your eyes.”

“Come with me.” The huntress beckoned, cheeks burning with passion as she unceremoniously tried to wipe her bloodied hand on her thigh before offering a gloved palm to Weiss.

Weiss thought for a moment of what this could entail for her and the huntress. It seems death is not the only cure for wild curiosity.

“What is your name, my huntress?”

“Ruby.”

Weiss tentatively accepted her hand and both of them tried to find their worth in the waking world.

_______________________________

RIP my hand.

I decided to do a Bloodborne crossover with my favorite boss in the game, Lady Maria from the Astral Tower.

I was actually debating whether to draw or to write but apparently I like to torture myself and so I did both.

The drawing took a few days as I can only draw an hour at a time and needed long breaks in between and I'm glad I want too late to submit it. The writing on the other hand was just done in a single afternoon cause the best way to write is when you're on a strict deadline.

#rwby #rwby art #rwby fanart #rwby weiss #weiss schnee #weiss #weissschnee fanart #rwby crossover #bloodborne #gaming #bloodbornefanart #rwby fanfiction #rwby fanfic #bloodborne fanfiction

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savysavannah · 4 years ago

Text

Challenge 1

Special thanks to @damian-schreave and @hadleyjaneharper for the rps.

Also the last section is not in fic format because its 2am, im lazy, and you get the gyst from the RP. Apperantly this is too long so part 2 soon.

The Prince was off in Paloma for a bit so we were of little use in the Palace, no idea why they had us move in so early. Therefore, I’d spent most of the day with some books I’d grabbed from the library. Primarily they were legal books since it never hurts to brush up. But every once in a while, such as now I’d need to go and grab some food.

I brought my notepad and a book on contract law with me and walked into the kitchen. There was another girl also in the kitchen. We haven't spoken to each other, she didn’t seem unfriendly or particularly awful company, just hadn’t really had the moment to. I grabbed a plate of fruit and wondered if she would say anything. After a moment I sat down and resumed reading.

Then a small sad sigh came from the young woman who was looking down at her phone with a sad face. It wouldn’t be too bad if I took a break for some conversation. However, the young woman looked troubled, she may not be in the mood. I yawned and stretched then mumbled, but loud enough for her to hear, “God, I could use a drink.” and wondered if the other would take the bait.

There was a beat before the other spoke, “Long day?”

“More or less. Lots of reading, missing work. How about yourself?”

She shrugged “Its...different than what I’m used to. Lots of sitting still when I’m used to spending my days moving around.” SHe grimaces then sighed, “The adjustment period is always the toughest, though.”

I thought for a moment trying to remember the occupations of the selected, “The dancer?” I asked.

She grinned “Yeah. Hadley.” She raised an eyebrow, “And you?”

“Lawyer.” I said and stood from the table, walked over to Hadley and held her hand out, “Savannah Mars, Labrador, three.”

She shook my hand, “Nice to meet you.” then thought for a moment, “You said you were missing work? Do you work at a law firm?”

“Kinda. I work for the Illean Civil Liberties Union in their legal division. It's a non-profit which focuses on civil rights and for me civil legal cases. Lgbt+ rights defense, domestic defense, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, that’s really cool.” She said, seeming actually interested in my work. “Are you missing the casework, or something else?”

“It's pretty hard for me to step back from my work. Since I'm kind of left worrying about my clients. A new guy took over my cases but I'm trying to still work in my own way by studying up on some legal sections I work in less frequently but still may come up. Such as contract law.” I explained not fully hearing her other question.

She nodded, “I understand, sort of. I’m left worrying about how my ballet company is going to perform, with somebody else taking over the role in the Nutcracker that I’ve had the past few years.”

“Yeah the transition really is nerve wracking. Have you seen them perform though?” I asked hoping that could at least provide some solace.

“I’ve seen pictures on Instagram, but no videos yet. We were just finishing up our performance of Cinderella when I left. Nutcracker rehearsal started a few days after, but it’s a show we do each year, so... “ She sighed “ It /should/ be fine.”

I nodded, “well if they assigned them the role try and have faith in their qualifications. That's what I'm keeping in mind for mine. They did go to law school so it's fine. They got the role so it’s fine.” I said partially for her and partially for me.

She sighed a little hesitant, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Competition is just gonna be a bitch and a half when I’m sent back.” She chuckled wryly.

“Well maybe you'll win and then you won't have too. Who’s gonna take a role away from the future queen of Illea.”

“That’s extremely unlikely to happen.” She then almost smirked “What about you? If you win, nobody’s going to tell you no in a courtroom.”

I laughed, “If I win I'll kill myself.” Then I realized how dark that sounded, though it didn’t seem to phase her.

“I hate to say that I feel the same way, but…” She shrugged and nodded, “I feel the same way” For a moment I was confused, why would she join if she felt the same way? Then it clicked, a dancer would be a five, lower class, need the money.

“You're a five right? Did you apply for the money? If you don't mind my asking that is. It would just make sense why you'd dislike to win.”

“It…” She bit her lip, “Kind of? It’s a long story involving a deadbeat mom, a shitty health care system, two starving artists, and a kid with leukemia.” She said with an apologetic smile. Whatever she’d be apologizing for I can’t say.

“Well shit man, I'm glad you got in then. Both for the money and for a break from that. I know this society fucking sucks and we've got a likely shit for brains hier, but if you ever need a lawyer I'm here to help. Hopefully, being a three now will provide some help for you too.” I said then caught myself making a mental note to not be so vulgar with my language.

She gave me a small smile, “Thanks. Now I just have to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life, after throwing my career into dance, only to become a Three.” She laughed, “What about you? Why did you enter? It sounds like you had a pretty cushy gig going on.”

It wouldn’t be smart to tell the truth, but lying when Hadley had been so open felt wrong, I sighed and said, “My brother. Basically he forged my entry and I didn't want him to get into legal troubles for that. He's a fucking idiot.” I sighed and let that last cuss word slide as he is a fucking idiot.

She snorted, “Men really do only have two brain cells.” She gave a small smile, “I’m sorry that you ended up in that situation, though. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. I tried to beat him up but my other brothers stopped me. It was really a mess. Had to find out from a waitress asking for a photo with me.”

She shook her head, “My best friend told me that he was so upset to see me, “throwing my life away,” as if I hadn’t entered to help him and his brother.” Sounds like an ungrateful ass. She sighed and looked down at her fruit, “When did life get this messed up?”

A question with too big of an answer. A bit panicked and not knowing what to say I took a strawberry off my plate and held it out to her, “Fruit?”

She chuckled and took the strawberry, “Thanks.” She takes a bit, chews, and then pauses, looking at Savannah, “You know what I could really go for right now, though? A good gin and tonic.”

“God that'd be great. You know what, let's make some. One glass can't hurt.”

She shrugged, “Sure, sounds fun. I’m down.” She looks around, “I know they keep the wine in that cabinet, but I haven’t found the liquor yet.”

After gathering our ingredients we get to work making the glasses, “so, what's your plan in all this?”

“In the selection?” She raises an eyebrow and then shrugs, she starts pouring things into the mixer bottle, “Stay here for as long as I can so I keep making stimulus checks, and then get sent home before I’m stuck spending the rest of my life here.” She finishes pouring and looks at Savannah, “You?”

I sighed, “about the same. Give the money to the non-profit I work for. I was hoping I could root for you to win, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders to influence him, but the more I think about it the more I realize that's like damning to hell.

She snorts, “Well, I still appreciate the compliment, and I would’ve said the same about you.” Then she sighs, “I’ve always known that it’s been like this, though. He gets to squander every penny he has on luxury shit, whereas my paychecks…” another sigh, “But life isn’t fair.”

“Yeah. And then waste the money on useless shit and trying to pass dumb laws like making 'cats' illegal instead of actually fixing the problems in this country.” I said and poured myself a glass of the drink.

She poured some for herself and then shook her head with an eye roll, “Don’t even get me started on that debacle. Why even joke about things like that?”

“Because he doesn't comprehend how the people of his own country are suffering. He's just so blind with privilege. Not that I have much to speak on but at least I freaking try to think about others in the country and their situations.”

She gave me a small smile, “You didn’t seem like the type to blow your money on worthless things to me, at all. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him when we have that interview in a few days.”

“Yeah I think im just gonna be polite for the sake of not causing a scene that'll haunt me my whole life” I said and took a sip, then clarified, “polite though, not kind.”

She nodded then drank too, “I really went from putting on one type of show for Twos to another.”

“Any idea what you're gonna do as a three?” I asked.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, “I haven’t taken a science or maths class since I was eleven, and I don’t have the money for university. I guess I could work as a translator, or if that doesn’t work out, marry a five and go back to dancing.” She took another sip of her drink, “Hopefully I’ll be here long enough to figure it out.”

“Do they not have like threes who are dance teachers? I haven't really looked much into the area myself but it may make sense.”

She shook her head, “For me, at least, it was mostly Russian immigrants who were former dancers themselves, so Fives.”

I thought for a moment, “Well if you ever need history lessons, english, or legal aid I'm around. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a business card, since it’s not like either of us plan to be here long, “Just all the way up in Labrador. Where are you from again?”

“Allens. So, not too far. Thanks.” She replied and looked at the card.

“Welcome.” I replied, finished off my drink then wrote down another idea.

Hadley narrowed her eyes curiously, “What are you writing?”

“Just an idea for a proposition with the ICLU. There are probably other girls in a similar situation as you being lower caste now upper be it through marriage or selection, it may be helpful to talk about implementing a caste readjustment program.”

She lifted her head, smiling just a little, “That sounds like a great idea.” Then a little quieter she added, “I'd appreciate it.”

“Hopefully my boss will agree and pass it onto the innovation department. I'll write a quick memo about it to her later.” I smiled happy to have something to do.

“You really love your job, don't you?” She asked.

I nodded, “It makes me feel like I have some kinda purpose. As cheesy as that is to say.” Making actual change in Illea instead of just prancing around doing whatever else I could have grown up to do.

“No, I get that.” She looked down, “As a kid, I never really felt like I belonged, but on the stage, dancing?” She looked a little distant, “Standing out was a good thing.”

I nodded, “Mhm. Have you thought of ways you could continue working while at the palace?”

She smiled, “Actually, I had a conversation with Prince Eaton about that, and I’ve been able to work out a schedule that allows me to still practice, even though I have to do a little more work to catch up on lessons.”

“That'll be good. If you wanted too you could put on a performance and donate the profits. That way you could be working towards a goal too instead of general practice.”

She tilted her head, “That's an interesting idea. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I nodded, “Well it was nice meeting you, Lady Hadley. But it is probably time for me to get back to work.” Then held out my hand to shake goodbye.

She took it, giving it a shake. “Nice to meet you too.”

It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time I was escorted to the interview room. Damian was in a navy blue suit jacket, dress pants, and a white button up shirt. He smiled at me as I got closer. His eyes flicker to my nametag for a second before he speaks, “Hello, Lady Savannah. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”

I smiled trying to stay polite, then gave a small curtsy, “The same to you, your highness.”

He smiled back, taking a few steps back and gestured for me to go into the interview room. In the room is a sofa, surrounded by stage lights and a few cameras, what a romantic first meeting. There is one camera on a swivel stand, that is currently focused on Damian and I. He starts walking into the room, looking at me as he talks, "How have you found your first few days here, so far?"

I debated giving him a short one word answer of 'fine' but Danny's words of 'don't ruin your own happiness" slipped into my head. "They've been fine. I've enjoyed your library. It's helped me feel like I can in some ways continue working by catching up on legal matters normally outside of my areas of expertise."

He nodded while smiling then took a seat on the sofa, "So you're a lawyer, then? What kind of law do you practice?"

Reluctantly I sat next to him, hopefully I wouldn't catch an STD from proximity alone, "Yes, I practice primarily civil and criminal law with the Illean Civil Librities Union. So primarily defending people who are in bad situations due to outdated laws which need amending." My tone came out more passive aggressive than intended, but it was slightly justified as he should have been working to amend said laws and help people instead of partying.

"That's a great thing, to be doing. What got you into law?"

"Well I was at the University of Labrador. My best friend I'm the sorority I was in decided to go to a protest over women's rights in illea. We went, someone man came and antagonized some women, she defended herself verbally, got arrested, felt up by the officer, then was unable to do anything legally about it. I felt that was unfair so I decided to look into being a lawyer, liked the process, graduated in 2 years, went to Yale and here I am."

He lets out a low whistle, looking down for a second. I couldn't help but be a but prideful at my accomplishment, then looks back up at me, more serious than before, his jaw tense, "I'm really sorry that happened to your friend." He said and fell silent. What a conversation killer.

"It's fine." I said trying not to dwell on it, "How was your time in undergrad? Partied a lot, I saw." I said the passive agressiveness coming out again.

He smiled, a little more relaxed than before, but not as relaxed as he was when he first entered the room, "I enjoyed my last few years of freedom before entering the real world, yes." He then raised his eyebrows, grinning a little wider, kind of teasing, "And what about you? Being in a sorority and all, I doubt you were much of a homebody yourself."

I couldn't help but completely flush and bit down my urge to absolutely smack him upside the head. "It was a brief phase. It was fun. But also a waste of time." I chuckled a bit remembering my airheaded behavior in that year, "had I already been working harder I may have been able to finish faster and help more people."

He grinned a little at how flustered I was, which just made me want to punch him more, then smiled a little more genuinely towards the end, "We're still young. We have our whole lives to keep fixing things."

i frowned, "That isn't true. We never know when we're going to die. Something could always happen so we should be trying to help as much as we can. Not to mention while we" I paused after my slip of the tongue, but didn't correct it "partied in undergrad people were suffering who could have been helped."

There's a flicker of a frown on his face when I mentioned how short life is, but he lets it go, tilting his head when he looks at me, "We can't save everyone. That's impossible. We can try to do as much as we can, but there will always be more people in need of help.

"Partying isn't trying."

He raised his eyebrows, "You didn't even know you wanted to be a lawyer, back when you were partying in college."

I got kinda flustered again, he's right, there's no logically sound way to win. Yeah but I should have, I wish I had. Would have made the time a lot less regrettable." I said then cleared my throat, "Though, this is a bit of a heavy topic for our first meeting, don't you agree? Your- Damian." I barely corrected myself from saying Your Highness.

He chuckled, "A bit, but it's different from the surface level talk about work and provinces." He inclined his head, "Though, if you think about it, you never would have discovered your passion for law if you hadn't joined your sorority." He shrugged and gave a stupid grin which made me blush even more.

Finally I snapped and turned to point a finger at him, "You won okay. I can't regret something if I didn't know to do something better, but that doesn't make topless jello shots any less of an embarrassing memory." I exclaimed then heard what I said and wished to curl into a ball and die.

He chuckled a little, "We all have our moments. It's okay."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door then, and a guard pokes his head in. Damian nods at him, then turns and looks at me, "Unfortunately, we'll have to exchange stories another time. It appears our time today is up."

I sighed in relief at my rescue, then mumbled under my breath, "Thank God." I stood to curtsy, "Your-" I cringed a bit at the error, "Damian."

He chuckled again, "It was a pleasure to meet you Savannah. Until next time." He smiled at me when we got to the door, and stopped in the doorway.

I smiled back politely, "Thank you for the conversation. Till next time."

*savy was taking a break from her work and decided to out for a walk in the gardens. She had always been a fan of taking runs when stressed snd the gardens were providing a peaceful alternative. She was walking around when she thought she saw a bunny in the bushes. Being the gal she is she wanted to see it closer so she stepped off the path and walked into the gravel. Immediately her heel sank in the gravel. She lost her balance for a moment but didnt fall. Instead she panicked. She debated stepping out of her shoes to get it out but she didnt wanna hurt her skin on the gravel. Instead she tried to wiggle it loose and hopped no one was near*

*rip savannah, but Damian is out distressing by playing basketball at that point in time, and from where he's standing as he shoots this basket, he can see someone clearly struggling with something in the gardens. he can't see who it is, or what the problem is, but he figures he should go check it out. he tucks the basketball under one arm, jogging towards the person he can see, calling out* Hey, everything okay?

*savannah hears him call out an knows immediately it's the last person in the world she'd want to find her like this* Absolutely peachy! *calls back and debates ditching the shoes*

*he slows to a stop when he gets closer, his eyes going from savannah's face to her foot* Mmm, looks like you've got yourself in a bit of a sticky situation, there.

*is extremely flustered* no situation at all. I said I'm fine. *aggressively wiggles the heel and almost trips so she squeaks but manages to catch herself*

*when he sees her almost trip, he lunges forwards to catch her before she hits the ground, but then she catches herself, so he's like "oh was that for nothing?" he looks down at the shoe, furrowing his brows, thinking* Here, let me help with that, before you actually fall.

I'm not going to fall and I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of defeating some gravel on my own

*he takes a step back* Alright... if you insist... *hes not going anywhere, just watching her, waiting to see what she'll do*

*huffs when she doesnt hear him walk away and continues to wiggle then huffs when shes not getting anywhere* Fine. If you're just going to stand there anyways you may as well help.

*he chuckles, setting the basketball down on the ground, kneeling down to look at the gravel and the heel, before beginning to dig the heel out with his fingers* Not the best shoes to walk off the path in.

*rolls her eyes* I didn't think about that. I thought I saw a bunny and got distracted

*he can't help but raise his eyebrows at that, grinning, twisting the heel a little to unscrew it from the gravel* Was it at least a cute bunny?

*his tone is a little teasing*

It was cute, be careful with your tone though when your face is near my foot. *once its free she steps back on the path so she doesn't sink again*

*he chuckles, joking* What, are you planning on giving me a royal nose job with your shoe?

You could probably use one. *offers a hand to help him stand back up*

*he picks up his basketball, taking her hand, still grinning at her, teasing* Maybe it's just the angle you've been looking at it from.

*stands on her tiptoes looking at his nose* Nope. It's a little off. Nose job it is.

*she pinches his nose* its a big flaw. Doubt you'll be able to get a wife like that

*he chuckles* I don’t know, my nose has never gotten in my way before

*considers* You're right, I'm sure that was just your sense of responsibility that got in the way.

*he raises his eyebrows* You know, I’ve never turned in an assignment late, or anything for work late. Never asked for an extension.

I somehow find that doubtful. Your reputation of being a loose partier precedds that of a responsible duitiful person.

Well, it’s the truth. *he shrugs* If you’re really curious, you could email my professors. It’s all about finding a balance. *he smiles*

*grumbles because he seems to be honest about it* What did you even study?

I dual majored in political science and marketing. You?

*sighs in relief* at least you werent a buisness major. Political Science and History for me on a prelaw track.

*he nods, smiling, genuinely curious* Did you prefer one over the other?

Probably political science. I mean I love history it's why I added it. For fun since it's just like learning stories and seeing the modern day impact of said stories. But political science felt more efficient. Like it helped me have a better understanding of the philosophy of political thinking which has helped me a lot in law. Plus I just liked the professors more.

*he smiles* Understandable. Good professors make it so much easier to learn the content

*smiles* yeah and lots and lots of highlighters. Did you have a favorite topic in political science?

*grinning* I took a really cool course on comparative political economies - I really like the economic side of things. That, and the classes I had to take on international politics. *he looks over at savannah* What about you?

Probably civil politics. I've always been a fan of civil work. I honestly thought about working for the AFEI instead of the ICLU but decided I wanted to do more personal legal work than policy legal work. But it's always been the work that has interested me more since it's important to bring up civil conflicts within the country and try to help as much as possible. But learning about where we came from in terms of The United States vs the civil policies of Illea was an interesting course for me, especially because of the overlap of History and Political Science.

*he nods as she talks, thinking that all over* I think work guided what classes I liked as well. Because beyond national politics, I also have to think about international politics, trade agreements, and maintaining Illéa’s position in the world.

*seems slightly surprised* so you actually liked your major? I assumed you just were kinda forced to pick it

I was kind of forced to, but I could still pick the classes that interested me more. *He shrugs* Plus I really enjoyed my marketing major.

*thinks for a moment* Can I ask you something and have an honest answer? No bullshit PR answer. I'm just trying to figure out if we can trust you to be our future king through this, at the very least.

Sure *he nods, pursing his lips a little* Ask away.

Do you actually want to be the king of this country? Like aside from the perks you have from it, do you care about the work?

I do care. *he pauses, swallowing* I really do. It’s just...it’s a lot of pressure to accept from a young age.

*she thinks for a moment* Noted. Thank you for your honesty. *Looks at the basketball* Do you play much?

*he smiles kind of sadly* Not as much as I used to. I’ve gotten a little busy helping to run the country, and such.

*gets an idea* Do you wanna make a bet with me?

*he grins* Depends on what it is

Basketball. I'm working on a program right now with the ICLU, a coworker wants to come visit me and discuss about it but appreantly work visits aren't allowed during this. If I can get more hoops in you'll arrange that?

*he furrows his brows* Better yet, I could just organize for your coworker to visit under the guise of another event going on. Just give me a few weeks to work out the details.

*kinda chuckles because shes competitive* oh? Youre scared you'll lose? But if that's what you prefer

*he laughs* No, I just know I’d win, and I’d hate to deny you the ability to see your coworker

Fine. You'll set up the meeting, then I'll just prove to you that I would win had their beem stakes.

*he narrows his eyes at her, extending a hand to shake, still grinning* Deal

*shakes it firmly then kicks off her heels planning to walk to the court barefoot.* Would be an unfair advantage for me to still be in them

*he raises his eyebrows* Why, they helped square up the height difference between us, at the very least *he chuckles*

*almost elbows him over that but barely stops herself* I don't need that help. I'm perfectly capable of crushing you independent of my shoes

*he laughs* I played basketball in uni, you know?

As did I. Well- not in a club. A guy who I was *ponders for a moment* acquainted with, played it therefore I played with him and his friends fairly often

*he raises his eyebrows* And how tall was your acquaintance? Because I’m used to playing with people my height, but also my mom and sister, who are - *he puts his hand somewhere around his shoulder because they’re 5’4” and 5’5”* - about this tall

He was around 6'3. His friends the same or more. Don't worry I'm well aware of the disadvantage of my height and very prepared to utilize it

*he chuckles* Oh, I’ve got to see this. *when they get to the court he starts dribbling the ball casually, walking towards the middle of the court* Do you want to start with the ball, or should I?

*thinks for a moment and puts her shoes down on the edge of the court and rolls up the bottoms of her dress pants a bit* You can start with it.

*he raises his eyebrows at her rolling up her dress pants, but he nods* Okay, if you insist. *he waits until he’s ready before starting the play*

*she walks up prepared to steal since she cant block*

*he starts dribbling more seriously, quickly maneuvering around her, taking three large steps with the ball, and then shoots a basket, and it goes in*

*she kinda huffs about that dislikes. But once he has the ball again she tries again, this time getting it and doing her UNDER THE LEGS MOVE AND SHOOTS*

*he turns around, a little in shock* That is not a legal move!

Hmmm *puts her finger to her chin very smug* I dont think it explicitly says in the rules that you're not allowed too. You use your height I'll use mine *VERY SMUG*

*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best 2 out of 3? Whoever gets this next shot wins, then

*SHES BEING COCKY NOW* Aw is the wittle princey calling it quits so soon? His fragile ego damaged? *bats her eyes teasingly*

*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best three out of five, then. *he starts dribbling the ball right from here he is, and it’s a long shot to his basket from there, but he’s pretty confident, so he goes for it, and somehow it actually goes in. he raises his eyebrows at her* Still think you’re gonna win?

*crosses her arms* That was luck. *goes to get the ball since shes closer*

Or just sheer skill. *he smirks a little*

*turns to face him just to roll her eyes and gets the ball. She then dribbles it back to the middle or something idk how basketball works*

*he follows her to the middle, standing in front of her, knees bent in that “ready” position idk wtf it’s called lmao*

*that position makes knees wide so she dribbles and goes to do her fast under the leg move again*

*he sees it coming this time, and takes a few steps back, keeps his arm in front of him to reach for the ball, which he gets, and then dribbles across to the the hoop he has to score in, taking the shot, and watching it go in again. he grabs the ball as it bounces back up, raising his brows at savannah* One more, or are you good? *he grins a little*

*huffs again and crosses her arm* Fine we'll call it at 3 to 1. But in my defense it's been awhile.

*he grins* Well, you’re always welcome to practice out here with me, if you want.

I can't tell if you're being taunting or not *rolls her eyes and walks up to him then holds out her hand to shake for the end of the game*

*he takes her hand and shakes, then gives her a genuine smile* No taunting. I mean it. I’d love to have someone new to play with.

I'll consider it then. I am getting slightly bored of your homes running path for exercise.

*smiles back even tho she doesnt wanna because it was a nice offer*

*he tilts his head from side to side* Yeah, the running trail through the gardens is kind of short. There are better ones /in/ Angeles, if you ever want to check them out

Not sure I'm allowed to just waltz on out of here, but I'd love the names of any you know. My grandmother lives near her so I'm sure I'll be visiting soon enough after this if not immediately so.

*he shrugs* I could also drive you sometime, if you want. I /do/ have a car.

*seems a bit surprised* You know how to drive?

*he furrows his brows* Of course! I got my license as soon as I was legally allowed to.

But its not like you need too? Don't you have like drivers?

*he looks a little confused and taken aback* I’m sure some exist, but why would I want someone else to drive me when I could be free and drive myself?

I'm not sure. I just know rich people, like for example my cousin *mumbles for a moment to find the phrasing* So my grandmother is in charge of the Mars Candy Corporation. My mom's older brother Nathaniel will be taking over it, his kids also my cousins all have drivers. They're like twenty something now but Jackson is always bragging about how he doesn't have to take the effort to drive himself places. I just assumed other people who could afford them would have them, especially busy people who could work instead of drive.

*he blinks* Wow, I never even would have considered that. *he shakes his head* No, I like driving. Being able to roll the windows down and blast the music...it’s like a few moments of freedom. *he shrugs, smiling a little sadly*

*she noticed the smile then something clicks* so freedom is your vice. You act out to feel free, thus the partying. You mentioned earlier the responsibility of being a prince being am influence on the partying. A lack of freedom makes sense. *she knows shes getting too personal but her curiosity and worry for the future gets the best of her* But what does that mean you're going to do when you're king? You'll have even less. How do you plan to maintain that restriction without bursting and needing freedom?

*he stiffens a little at her analysis because damn it’s spot on, but sighs towards the end* Getting as much out of life as I can now. I always knew what my future held for me. So I can plan accordingly. *he forces a small grin, trying to joke* Besides, with any luck, I’ll be old and almost out of energy by the time I’m king.

*furrows her eyebrows concerned* That doesn't work. *sighs* Believe me I'd know. But we aren't wired to run off memories. Instead we develop habits and coping mechanisms. Everyone snaps from time to time, you'll go back to what made you happy last. For you I assume that'll be partying. Which is something you can't do as king, and assuming it wont be till your old isn't right either, regardless of if that was a joke it's not something that you can lean on since millions of people could be relying on you and you'd be unprepared. You are going to be king, You are not going to have freedom, you are going to be under immense pressure and responsibility, honest answer, what are you going to do when you need to snap?

*he narrows his eyes at her, this time more out of irritation than anything else, and he’s a little sarcastic* Gee, thanks for the reminder. Though, for the record, I /haven’t/ partied since uni, and I have no plans to in the near future. So perhaps I’ll rely on my other coping mechanism, such as basketball, or taking a drive.

Yeah well it's the truth and uni wasn't that long ago. It's hard to break habits. I mean I partied like 4 times a month in undergrad and I still use it. That was forever ago but that's not how humans work. You're gonna lean on what you've leaned on. You're going to get shitfaced, you're going to want what you used to have, you're gonna idolize those times in uni and want them back. But you're not going to have it and it's going to be hard and shitty but you have to tough it out because of the country that relies on you and this is proving to me that you're not going to be a reliable King for the people who need you.

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ton-e · 4 years ago

Text

Helheim is a land of peace.

The layers of agonized wails and woeful imploring she prepared her ears for was lost in the breeze of the melancholic melody of nature. Naked humming voices flowed serenely amidst the gradient of indigo blue leaves, dry and wrinkly, singing the ballads of lost souls attached to skinny tree branches, rinsed of color at the roots, blending smoothly with the pale greenery surrounding the wide meadow that grew to be her most favored solace.

Flowers, prey to decaying, small in stature but mighty in resistance, veiled the piece of soil that parted the center of the dark Kingdom in two, catching vines in the heart core of the spot her beloved boy once clawed his way to freedom, from a grave that came too early for a boy too gentle, too youthful, too much of a man before his time.

Her ghost Prince, her youngest; Stolen and crowned the King of Death, with a rain of tears on his cheeks and a cloak of swords in his back.

'Crowned, ' she spits, imagining it rippling through the dead earth and fell right onto Borr's bald head. Time failed to sweeten her bitterness as she thought, yes, this is how their history beautified the terrible incident. Time didn't heal her pain, neither did it gentled the sharpness of her teeth.

They had deceived him, betrayed him, punished him, stole his life away, and called it a reward.

After that dreadful day, She spent more nights weeping to slumber, eyes buried in the cushions of Hel's frigid chambers, burning brighter, hotter, than the hard oak feeding red-orange flames in the fireplace of her bedroom.

The phantom ice caressing the silver of her skin was more comfort than suffering, painless mercy she sunk into little by little every day until the light of day became unfamiliar. The cold here shares that quality, she ponders, a soft touch of unburnt ice to keep you from perishing.

Its a lot like her son, she thinks.

Yet, Bestla doesn't feel its presence permanently. A long, stone shaded cloak fell upon her shoulders, showering her back in a misty warmth provided by the thick velvet of the garment. Her eyes observe a silhouette shadowing the pale sun, the single leak of blight light hanging above the smoke sky.

"I was hoping to find you here, " Estrid wears a smile radiant enough to pale all gold in the 9 realms. "Peaceful up here, is it not? Hel liked hiding here, as a boy. Said the breeze was nice."

Bestla, for a moment, allows her eye to inspect the other woman for the first time. Her shoulders are round and solid, strong as a soldier, complemented by the stunning danger of a shieldmaiden. Bestla tracks night-dark locks brushing over creamy skin, long and curly. She's as much warrior as she is woman, it's as if she only now observes.

Her arms are an impressive addition, boxy as much as lean, holding closely on her shield and sword. A sword that, doubtlessly, claimed a long string of lives. She's not as fearful as it would be wiser to be. Estrid has been nothing but pleasant, as much as one could be when encountering their circumstance, her presence never frightening her as much as it saddened her.

"For someone carrying such heavy armor, you move with great stealth, Lady Sigurdsson, " If the other woman peaked at the too feather-soft timber of her voice, she had enough cheek to act differently. " I suppose you'd want an explanation as to why I'm avoiding my son?"

" Forgive me, your Grace, but Lord Hellison was never included in the conversation, " Bestla thought she spotted a bloom of red dusting her cheeks as she grinned gently, taking a spot none to tight to the former Queen, but close enough to leave some space had the smaller woman want to fill it. "I thought you would, after..."

"...It's unwise to polish hard truths. They cut harder that way, " The Queen's words were dressed in both honesty and advice, chapters of her life unfolding beneath her eyes as if to pledge truth to the statement. Estrid studied each word with expert attention.

Bestla raises, arms guarding her middle, eyes cast over the sea of flowers beneath her shoes.

"I'm grateful, for the kindness you showed him. I remain in your debt, in fact, though it escapes me how I can repay you here. "

"We don't believe in paying kindness, in the North. Goodness isn't traded in gold, " a quiet chuckle is swept by the breeze slashing through the grand mountains. Estrid inhales deeply and opens her arms when she lets her body fall upon the grass. "If it was, don't you think more people would practice it?"

The southerner's lips lift in a one-sided smile of her own, private and discreet. Debtless favors certainly sounded sweet to the ear.

" Aesir aren't precisely renewed for our gentle hearts, so I suppose not. I still mourn the stress you must have endured, however. Children are far from being a jolly affair. And the tales we hear as children don't exactly portray Titans as loving parents."

A stratum of blank seriousness shaped Estrid's features, graveness resting heavily on sharp boned cheeks and warm brown eyes. " I fell in love a day after meeting him, " Bestla swallowed hard at the admission. " I knew him for less than a sundown, but I knew he was mine. I was dead, alone and helpless and afraid, and he was too much like me to be a fateless coincidence. Words aren't enough to express it. He was just...Meant to fall, and I to catch him. "

The leafs sang to fill the edged hush musking around them. Estrid pimped the other's empty breathing as anger, for she heaved a sigh long enough to match the twin lack of words on both their parts, and excused her nerve. " Apologies. I don't dare name myself a mother, nor do I starve for anyone's approval, least of all yours. I only wished to say you raised a good son. A son lucky to have a mother like you, for as long as he did."

"...You helped him," Bestla started, chest light and comfortable, not cutting blades piercing her skin as she expected. "Kept food in his mouth, put clothes on his back. You loved him truthfully and protected him fiercely. You're not any less his mother than I."

"...It must be a sour thin all the same, for someone so beloved to greet you as a stranger. For that, I can't help but feel sorry still."

" That's a sentiment we can share. He... Hel, my child, my youngest son. Born at the edge of two worlds that never loved him. They aren't my own, not my blood, not him neither Odin, my kind hearted prince, my little lion boy. And yet, I was not their mother for the simple reason they didnt come from me. Everyone told me so.

They weren't my own, yet I held them at my chest, kissed their skinned knees and elbows, wiped their tears, and chased sickness with handpicked herbs and wet rags because I trusted nobody to do so. No language is enough to describe the love a mother has for their children.

No tongue is enough to put my love in words."

"...Even for Balder?"

Bestla laughs, an odde of heartache and sorrow. " Even him. Love gives no choices, last of all to parents. I still remember the day of his birth. A terrible storm broke the skies that evening, set fire to five houses, left a month's worth of reparations behind. He struggled, I've been told. He kicked and wailed and fought all the way.

I haven't had the chance to even hold him in my arms and he was so eager to run from me. My eyes never saw something more perfect than his tiny ears, his adorable little hands, and feet, his honey hair. He looked so much like me I hardly believed it.

But I felt no different with his brothers. There was a sickness in my mouth, when they were babes and I was forced to be departed from them. I couldn't bear to see them in another's arms, a wet nurse, or a squire, when asked to trust anyone else with them, I was faithless.

When Hel was born, he couldn't be convinced to let me go. He was so quiet, I thought perhaps this world claimed him already. His mother drew her last breath on that bed and I was the one he clung to, the one he hooked his fingers into. One of the King's guards present, he tried to prey him away, do you want to know what I did? I unsheathed a dagger from my thigh, slashed his throat, and watched him die." The confession was a river she scalded into freely.

"Would I insult your intelligence by asking if you're familiar with Sandr?" Bestla asked once Estrid wordlessly raised on her feet. She felt enough security to push her body forward. " Titans held mighty battles there."

A smirk pinched the taller woman's lips. " We were rowdy children, I'll confess. But yes, I know the location. You rebuild beautifully, " dark eyes shaped the bronze scorpio pendant suspended in the middle of Bestla's long neck. " Your family picked a Scorpio as their sigil. They made a fine legacy."

" Oh, it was. The finest. Beautiful, skillful, and yet, terribly lonely. I had 10 siblings. 5 brothers and sisters, however, I confess I felt more like an accessory than a member of a clan. We were strangers to each other. Foreigners with the same name, with our only common factor being our house.

Our country was gorgeous but very poor, you see. We trusted nobody, and in return, our distrust was repaid with hostility. Eventually, when our skin touched bone and we ran out of livestock, we opened the gates to trade. Naturally, we were invaded, our lands stolen, our necks had shackles only we could see.

And I held the key for everyone.

I want you to picture the most powerful man in the world, asking me to marry him," a bitter laughs cracks in her throat, and the wind whips away the water from her eyes. " He had a crown on his head and 50 thousand banner men behind him, with more gold than he could ever need or deserve and 100,000 spikes for our heads alone. What else could I have said?"

Her legs shift, stepping closer to Estrid, eyes as flat as her tone. " What I did, I did because I had to. To defend my people. To defend my family. To defend my blood. Every sacrifice, every drop of blood I've spilled, I did it so the people I love could live the peace I never did."

She advances, every step that's forward to her is one back for Estrid, eyes concentrated intensely on one another with enough fire to make Fire Giants sweat.

"All the sins that I have done. Or had done at my orders? The truths my children don't know, the truths a narrow number of people lived to keep the secret. The kind vicious enough to make fine warriors as yourself lose sleep, if they came to know them.

Perhaps this is my justice. A punishment for survival in a world where living is no bed of roses. But I won't stop helping my children, heart beating or otherwise.

There's a storm coming, My Lady. And I have every intention of ensuring everyone walks dry."

#I LOVE BESTLA SO MUCH THIS IS NOT A JOKE SKSKSK #earth 513 #bestla #hel hellison #estrid siggurson #Balder #odin borson #borr #(mentioned)#thunderfam #scene #fic #Spotify

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