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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 5 months ago

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Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter nineteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 14.5K (It's a behemoth and oh my stars I didn't mean to do this)

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Angst, Drinking, ANGST, Sexual References, Talks of Pregnancy/Abortion, Some steaminess (barely), Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situation, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Not going to lie, this one is ANGSTY and it's dramatic... ENJOY!

Soldier Boy POV

Ben couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The words you'd said still hovered between the two of you like an anchor sinking from a ship and lodging itself in his heart to tug him under. At first he thought that he'd imagined you saying it, that he was still reeling from using his newfound powers, but the ringing in his ears was not a side effect of that.

It had been exactly 37 seconds since you said it, and in those 37 seconds Ben couldn't do anything but stare into your beautiful wide eyes and try to remember how to breathe. The look on your face was identical to the first time you told him you loved him, hands gently cupping his cheeks and making him feel like the boy who used to climb up the tree outside your window just to glimpse your smile.

But now what you said was different. What you said didn't bring warmth, it brought destruction, it broke through everything he was.

As soon as you said it a wave of shock crashed over him, followed by another more powerful wave of guilt. It wasn't guilt for getting you pregnant or guilt because the two of you weren't careful. Ben was not upset about that. He would have loved to see you pregnant, see you glow as you wore those cute overalls and prepared for a child that he gave you. To see you smile at him every day and let him make love to you, show you how excited he was to share this with you. Show you how you were the only person he wanted a family with, the only person he ever wanted to be bound to. He had wanted to give that to you and that wasn't a lie. When you first spoke those words to him so long ago about wanting to have a family, wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you, Ben had wanted to be the one to give you those things.

He would have done anything to make you happy, still would. But now he was upset with himself. Guilty that he wasn't there for you when you needed him the most, guilty that he allowed himself to stay away as long as he had, and guilty that he hadn't fought harder to get back to you.

He imagined those years without him raising a child on your own, the sleepless nights you must have had, the way you must have never had a moment of quiet-.

Ben felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into despair when he thought of the years you must have spent alone raising his child, loving his child even though he threw you away.

She loves me that much? How can I ever deserve her?

Ben still didn't breathe, noting the way Legend, Butcher, and Hughie have fallen silent where they stand behind the two of you. Even Legend had stopped smoking his blunt, something that Ben wished he could take a hit from.

I'm a dad and I-

Ben's memories of his own father came up like the rising tide, the shit his father said to him, the way his father pushed him away, the way his father was never there when he needed him to be and the way that his father always made him feel like he wasn't enough, just as your mother made you feel.

Even after all this time, I did become him, I abandoned her and then I abandoned my kid. I wasn't there when they needed me the most, I am a fuck up I- Ben swallows, the overwhelming thoughts dragging him further and further beneath the waves. How could she still want me? How can she say that I've never disappointed her when I did this?

You drop your hands from his cheeks and he misses the warmth they brought, but worse is the look in your eyes. You look scared. It was the same look you'd had on your face this morning when he woke up with you in his arms.

Ben hated that, because he knew why. He knew that you were scared to tell him this because you thought he would leave you again, that you still didn't completely believe that he was never going to leave you again, and it broke something deep inside of him that he tried to hide away for decades. He wished that he had never done those things to you, wished that he had earned back your trust already, wished that you would let him make love to you to show you how much you meant to him, but deep down he knew that he was willing to wait for you even if it took the rest of his life, he would make you trust him again.

At least she's touching me and looking me in the eye now.

But he knew that he still had a long way to go.

“Right.” Butcher clears his throat awkwardly. “Don’t forget to fill up the tank.” He tosses his keys towards you and you catch them in your hand while Ben continues to stand there.

Honestly he still wasn't sure what to say. He was stuck somewhere between guilt and shock and he wasn't sure how to make his body move. Pretty soon he would die from asphyxiation. He hadn’t taken a breath since you said it.

Butcher, Legend, and Hughie walk into the house behind them each wearing a bewildered expression. Ben had been to Legend's summer house many times in the past. He had memories of orgies and parties that went on for days, both of which you never went to, and Ben always ended up at your apartment trying to sleep it off while you sketched quietly beside him. He still couldn't understand that, how you were able to sit there with him and act like your heart wasn't breaking each time he did that.

The silence grows between you and Ben can't find the words to fill it, because he has no idea what to say, no idea how you can look at him when he did this to you, when he got you pregnant and then abandoned you like you didn't matter.

"Look I-" You stammer, looking down at the ground for a minute to take a breath before you raise your eyes to look at him. "I didn't want to tell you like this, but I can't leave her. We have the same last name and the first thing Homelander's going to do is make that connection. I mean, Legend and I made up the story about Indigo being my mom, but Rosemary she-"

Ben's entire body explodes again with emotion and shock as you utter the name Rosemary. He hadn't heard it in over eighty years, the last time was at his mother's funeral. The day that you crossed the gravesite, pulling away from your family, swaddled in another ridiculous dress that your mother picked out, and took his hand, refusing to let it go. You were always there for him.

And then I wasn't fucking there for her.

“I just can’t leave her, not with him.” You whisper, glancing up into Ben's impassive face but he can't say anything.

How can I when she named our daughter after my mother?

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I tried to tell you this morning, but then Butcher walked in and I didn’t want to do this in front of him and- and-“ You were babbling now, a nervous habit that Ben hadn't seen you do in ages, but was now rearing its ugly head all over again. “And you don’t have to come with me-“

You were mistaking his silence for fear, mistaking his silence as him pulling away all over again. He could see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice as it trembled.

“Rosemary.” Ben whispers, your daughter's name, his daughter's name, interrupting you. He barely breathes it, so low that he's not sure you heard him, saying the name with a reverence that he'd never used before. It was the first thing he'd said since you told him that he was a dad.

“Yes?" You look confused.

“You named her after my mom?” Ben’s eyes catch yours, deep green and open. He could feel his own heart flutter when he asked you that, heating in his chest so hot that he thinks it might melt out of it, through the bones and sinew. If that happened he would catch it and give it to you as if you already didn’t have it.

Ben can hear your heartbeat stutter when he asks you that. It was surprising, surprising that after everything that happened you still did that for him, did that to remember him.

He watches the end of your lips twitch in a smile.

“Yeah. You loved your mom. And did you think I was going to name her after my mom? Really?” You smile faintly at him with the joke.

Ben almost smiles at the thought. There wasn't any way that you wanted to remember your mother. Hell, all Ben wanted was to help you forget her, to undo the damage that she'd done to you all those years ago, because he saw how her influence still weighed on you, how everything that happened in the past still sat on your shoulders.

And he wanted to relieve that.

“I did try to tell you.” You repeat, but your smile drops. “Honestly I also want to stop and get some clothes from my apartment so I’m not covered in blood or rubble when I see her. It's going to be hard to explain all of this to her.”

Ben drags his eyes down your outfit again. Although this morning all he wanted was to rip it off you and study your curves with his hands, the outfit looked weathered. There was a prominent hole through the jacket and shirt, just under your left breast that Ben couldn't look away from. He knew what it meant. It was from you pushing him out of the way of Homelander. He could still feel the anger prickling beneath his skin when you again did the thing that he told you not to do. You were just so stubborn sometimes and never wanted to listen to him. Ben didn't give a single fuck that Homelander had punched him and practically choked him, the only thing he cared about was that Homelander had killed you. There were many things that Ben fantasized about doing to Homelander when he had killed you, many he wished that he had been able to accomplish before Homelander tucked his tail and flew away like a little pussy.

He cannot be what passes for a hero these days.

Then again another side of him was incredibly turned on when you faced Homelander. He'd never admit that to you, but there was something sexy about the way you threw Homelander around like he was nothing. It had taken an extreme amount of effort for Ben not to kiss you after Homelander flew away, to take you back into the ruined house and show you just how much he liked your outfit and how much he enjoyed watching you kick Homelander's ass. Of course he'd let the anger win in the moments that followed the fight.

"Okay." Ben replies.

He sees you hesitate. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back.” You reply, with a tight smile, disappointment flashing in your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Ben’s eyebrows furrow together. He was confused. “I’m coming with you.”

“Really?" He watches your eyes widen in surprise.

Did she really think I'd let her go alone to do this?

"Yes? I told you that I didn't want you to go alone. Especially with that asshole flying around." Ben could feel himself frown.

"Okay."

Reader POV

The first ten minutes of the drive is deathly quiet. Ben doesn’t say anything and you fight to keep your mouth shut. The urge to fill the silence bristled beneath your skin, but you clamp your lips together.

Even when he said he wanted to come with me, he didn't acknowledge anything I said about Rosemary and-

“Are you sure she��s mine?” Ben finally asks interrupting your internal monologue.

You can’t help but laugh, gripping the steering wheel as you snort. “Why is that the reaction all men have when a woman tells them that they’re pregnant? Is it because all men believe that women go around plotting ways to force them into a relationship? Is that a legitimate fear that you guys have? Or is it because all men think women go jumping from bed to bed having unprotected sex with whoever they can get their hands on?”

“No I just-“ Ben sighs and doesn’t finish his sentence. He’s been staring out through the windshield, watching the outside world fade into blurred colors, glancing over at you every few seconds.

“I’m sorry.” You hadn’t meant to laugh at him, but this was all just extremely awkward.

But it shouldn’t be. You can’t help but think to yourself. If Ben had ever asked me to have a kid with him before any of this I would have agreed to it no questions asked. But now I guess it's different.

“Yes she’s yours.” You sigh, but you can’t look at him.

“But how?”

“Do you really want me to explain the birds and the bees to you?”

“Y/n.” He sighs.

“Because of all the people in the world, you probably have enough experience to know exactly how babies are made and I hate to break it to you, it has nothing to do with a stork.”

“Please don’t make a joke right now.”

“I can’t help it.” You mutter butterflies dancing the conga in your stomach. “You know how I get when I get nervous.” You could practically feel your neurons sending electrical impulses through your body, making your anxiety grow.

I really should have had that coffee this morning. Then again it might go right to my anxiety.

“Why are you nervous?” Ben asks you incredulous. He sounds surprised, like he can't understand you.

“Huh?”

“Why are you nervous? You should be fucking furious with me!"

"Ben what are you talking about?" You turn to look over at him. He looks wrecked. He's hunched in the seat, hands clenched tightly over his thighs, jaw tight.

Is he mad at me? Really? Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach to be devoured by the swarm of butterflies. I knew it. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle this-

"I did this to you and then I fucking left you. I left you when you needed me and was with those Russian fucks for forty-“ Ben’s voice breaks.

You suddenly understand. Ben wasn’t angry with you, he wasn’t pulling away, he was angry with himself. Guilty and angry because he wasn't there, because he believed that he disappointed you again.

“Ben wait a minute-“

“I should have been there every second.” He seethes, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists on top of his thighs. “I should have- FUCK.” Ben’s fist goes through the roof of the car, making the entire frame shudder.

Shit Butcher might kill us for that.

"Oh Ben-" You whisper.

“I-“ His chest begins to glow. “I said all those things, pushed you away, fucked Countess. I put you through all that shit and you still wanted to have my fucking kid? And you named her after my mom? I-"

Butcher will definitely kill us if Ben blows up his car.

You pull the car over to the side of the road, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for Ben. "Ben please it's okay." You breathe, hands finding the sides of his face. "It's okay."

"No it's not." His chest dulls, but he turns his head away from you ashamed. "You told me that you wanted a family, that you wanted someone to come home to, someone who loved you. I wanted to give you those things, but not like this. I-" Ben's voice cracks. "I'm so sorry. I-"

"Ben." You whisper, turning his face back to yours so he's looking at you. His green eyes are dim, eyebrows pushed together, mouth turned down in a frown. And you can't help but kiss him. It's the first kiss you'd had in years. Life always seemed to get in the way of that. Whether it was Rosemary or Lou, you hadn't had a lasting relationship with someone in decades, not since Ben. The most you’d done is gone out with another artist and had dinner. It had ended in an awkward kiss that felt completely wrong to you. It didn't feel anything like this.

Kissing Ben was even more wonderful than you remember. The way he softly sighs into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, the way his hands find your waist to pull you over the center console into his lap, the way your hands automatically tangle in his thick dark hair on the back of his head, and the way your entire body melted into him. Warm tingles trace down your spine as your lips move against his, every synapse in your body electrifying, as you try your hardest to tell him how much he means to you with the kiss.

"Don't you understand." You say against his lips, stroking your fingers through his hair. "You did. You gave me a family. You gave me someone to come home to, someone who loves me. And now that she’s all grown up it gets to be you. You didn’t ruin my life. I don’t regret a single moment, even with everything that happened. I don't regret having Rosemary. You gave me what I wanted. It might not have looked the way I thought it would, but it doesn't make it any less special.”

"But I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I-" Ben sighs leaning his forehead against yours and you kiss him again, his tongue tangling with yours so devastatingly languid it seems to take your next breath.

Why did I ever deny myself this?

"Ben, you're here now, and that's all that matters to me."

"But-"

"You don't need to apologize for this Ben. What happened to you was not your fault. You couldn't control being away as long as you were-"

"I could have tried harder to escape. I could have-" He swallows, eyes wide and filled with pain. "I would have tried harder if I knew that I left you with-"

"Ben." You breathe, extracting your fingers from his hair and cupping his cheeks. "Please. I don't blame you for not being there. It was out of your control. And if-" You clear your throat with a sigh. "If you really love me as much as you say, if you've really loved me all this time, then I know you would have been there every second."

"I do. I love you." He kisses you again, breathing you in, holding you so tight against his chest as if he believes that you'll fade away in his arms. "I would have been, even if you hated having me there."

"I might have at the beginning, but now I can't imagine losing you. I can't imagine you leaving me. I don't think that I'll be able to survive this time-"

"I won't leave. I promise."

"I'm starting to believe you." Your thumbs stroke against Ben's cheeks, smiling softly at him, trying to fight the urge to cry, because your emotions are getting the best of you all over again. "Now can we please go? Or are you going to blow up Butcher's car?"

"One more Sweetheart." Ben murmurs, dragging your face back to his. "I've waited forty years for this."

"Does she know about me?" Ben says from your bedroom, over the sound of the sink.

You were standing in your bathroom, washing ash and blood from your face and picking rubble out of your hair. Honestly, you looked… weathered. The revenge outfit had a large irreparable hole that went through the blouse, not to mention you'd lost another favorite jacket and you were starting to get pissed.

Two down in a week. Maybe the vintage shop across the street from Rosemary's will have a nice selection. You reconsider. Or maybe Legend will have some clothes that he doesn't want. You smile to yourself. He certainly looks the same, must have some nice vintage clothes from the "good old days". Maybe I should be more worried about the fact that I’m more upset about ruining another jacket rather than the fact that we killed two people today.

Of course, you also needed to consider getting Ben some more clothes as well. Butcher's minimal selection was dismal, then again Ben could probably wear a garbage bag and be drop dead gorgeous.

He's the worst.

"Yeah. I told her who you were." You pull off the jacket, stroking your finger around the hole in the back of it, noticing the way the singed leather melted away from the laser. "She also knows you're back. It was-um- it was Rosemary who was texting me this morning." You momentarily feel guilty again. Rosemary was not excited to see Ben, the text messages this morning were a testament to that. And you were afraid that Ben was going to get his hopes up about seeing her.

Personally you weren't sure how he was going to approach this. Your heart just about broke when he almost exploded in the car from guilt about getting you pregnant. That was shocking, but at the same time the look of anguish on his face made you feel guilty all over again for not trying to get him sooner, for not asking more questions about his death. You knew that he was more indestructible than you. Why didn't I question that?

You reach for the bottom of the blouse, pulling it from your skin, but you look at your reflection in the mirror. There were two prominent scars, each about the size of a nickel, just under the left side of your bra. The only thing left behind from your fight with Homelander.

Ben's hand against the small of your bare back, makes you jump. It was rough and familiar, brushing against your soft skin in a way that makes you want to push back into his touch, to soak up the warmth like a cat in the sun. Proving again that your body still responded to his touch the same way it had your entire life. "Let me see." He rumbles.

"What?"

Ben turns you towards him, eyes dark as they meet yours, but then they drop to the collection of scars on your torso. "This one?" He strokes the golf-ball sized, almost perfect circle on the right lower part of your abdomen.

"Countess."

Ben's jaw tightens, but then raises his hand to the scars Homelander left then to the bullet scar just over your heart. "I hate that so many of these have to do with me."

"Well you didn't do them so you should see that as a win." You joke trying to make Ben smile, but he doesn't. "Ben we talked about this."

"I know." He pauses stroking his finger on a thin line just over your left collarbone. It was new to him. "What’s this one?"

"Rosemary." A ghost of a smile is on my lips. "Didn't want to eat her broccoli when she was a kid, telekinetically threw a knife at me by accident."

"She's a supe?"

"Yeah she's like us a bit. Doesn't age, she's strong, and more invulnerable, but she doesn't have any other powers unless she touches you."

"She has to touch you?"

"Yeah skin to skin contact only and only 24 hours, that's how she got telekinesis. She touched me and, well, really didn’t want to eat that broccoli-" You shrug. You were used to her powers, happy that you didn't have to watch her age, but worried about Lou. You were always worried about Lou. “But she's not a hero, she didn't want to be one. She's a nurse, works downtown in the emergency room. Though I think she's thinking about being a doctor."

"A doctor? A female doctor?” Ben’s eyebrows furrow.

Right. He basically missed the feminist movement. Note to self, make Ben watch the Barbie movie.

"Yes a female doctor. Nowadays it happens more often than you’d think.” You laugh. “She wanted to go back to school, but then her husband died and she was taking care of Lou-"

"Lou?"

You take his hand stroking your thumb over the back. “It’s not just Rosemary-“

“Please do not tell me you had fucking twins.” Ben tenses.

“No.” You snort. “Lou is our granddaughter. It's short for Louisa, though Rosie never calls her that unless she's done something crazy. She’s four, and most of the time she calls me aunty. She doesn’t know I’m her grandmother. Rosie and I, we thought it would be better if I introduced her as my cousin, not as my daughter."

“What happened to her husband?”

“Car accident. Just a few weeks after Lou was born.” Your smile drops remembering. “He was a good guy. Rosemary was head over heels for such a long time, and when he died she just crumbled completely shut down. He wasn't a supe and when she started to have a life with him I was worried about him dying. He wasn't going to live forever and he certainly wasn't indestructible. But after it happened I moved in with them for a while, helped her get through it, but it was hard."

"What about Lou?"

"What about her?"

"Is she a supe?" Ben's palm was still resting on the thin line over your collar bone and it was difficult to think with his bare skin pressed against yours.

"Not that we've noticed. Though I worry every day she will be."

"Why?"

"She's a third generation supe from our bloodline. If that gets out, who knows what'll happen. Same with Rosemary. She’s powerful and she’s only second generation from us. I’m hoping it skipped Lou.” You sigh leaning forward into his hand. "When I first found out that I was pregnant with Rosemary I was afraid that Vought would come take her away. And then when Lou was born I was so happy for Rosie, but everyday I'm scared that-" The words catch in your throat. Nothing really scared you anymore, but the thought of losing Rosie or Lou broke your heart, it was the same fear you had at the thought of losing Ben all over again.

He slides his hand up the column of your throat to cup your cheek. “Nothing will happen to them.” Ben promises. “I won’t let it.” His gaze was locked on yours, eyes filled with steely determination. It made your heart warm to know that Ben already cares about them, that he understood how important they were to you. It also made you all the more guilty for telling Rosemary everything about Ben, afraid that it turned her against him.

But I told her the bad and the good. I told her how much he meant to me, how he touched my life, our childhoods-

Images of the moments with Ben over your lifetime, the good and the bad, the moments you loved him, the moments you hated him, the simple moments that you longed for more, and the moments where Ben gave you everything you wanted, when he was exactly what you needed, as if he understood every part of you, even the parts that you tired to hide from everyone else. The moments before you were supes when Ben and you were together and he made you forget about your mother, when he walked you home as you sang drunkenly off key, and the moments where he cheered you up when everything seemed hopeless. Ben was always there for you.

You tried to tell her that, but maybe you were too jaded to tell her, maybe you focused too much on the bad. And now that meant she might not listen to his side of the story.

He drags his finger over the scar just over your heart, the one he can't seem to forget, trailing goosebumps in it's wake, while his other hand wraps around your waist tugging you forward against his chest.

By now he was wearing the pair of jeans and dark shirt he came to your apartment in, looking just as devastatingly handsome as he always did. Probably a good thing that he didn't go to her apartment in his supe suit, you didn't want Rosemary to ask him why he was wearing it and then have to tell her that he torched the TNT Twins.

Because telling her that you personally kicked Homelander's ass and that he was now going to hunt down Rosemary and Lou seemed so much easier. Not.

Why is my life like this?

"I can't put a shirt on if you keep doing that." You whisper. Honestly you couldn't think straight either.

"Maybe that's my plan all along."

"Well see, if I never put a shirt on that means that I'll be walking around in public with everyone seeing me without one and-"

Ben's eyes narrow at the thought.

“Oh do you not like that?” You smirk.

He pins you back against the counter, the marble biting into your lower back, but you don’t have time to think about it because Ben’s lips are against yours, supple and urgent, driving every thought from your mind.

Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, fastening him tighter against you while his mouth drags over your skin down your throat to your collarbone.

“Ben we have to go-“ you whisper.

“Let me do this first.” He mutters against your skin.

“Do what?” You sigh, feeling him begin to suck a mark directly over your collarbone. “Ben-“ You try to say his name to make him stop. Showing up to Rosemary’s apartment with a hickey was the last thing you wanted. But instead of his name coming out in the harsh whisper you intended, it comes out as a moan.

Ben’s body tightens around you, gaze meeting yours. His eyes are dark pools filled with promises that make a shiver travel down your spine. “I’ve waited forty years to hear you say my name like that again.” His lips fall back to the same spot. “And I look forward to hearing it like that in the future.”

Part of you is screaming too soon! But there’s another part rattling the bars of her cage that screams more! At the top of its lungs.

Ben continues to kiss along your neck, beard scratching against the soft skin in a way that makes you sigh and move your hands up to tangle in his hair.

You can feel Ben’s smile. “That’s my girl.”

“Only yours.” You whisper before you can stop yourself causing Ben to raise his head from your collarbone.

“Damn right.”He growls.

And there goes my last shred of willpower. Fuck.

Rosemary’s apartment building sends a deep feeling of dread through your system. You were happy that you got to change, happy that Ben got to change, but now thanks to the man sitting in the front seat across from you there was a large purple mark just on your collarbone that was barely covered by the long sleeved sweater you had on.

Please let Rosemary not see it.

Ben wasn’t helping. Since your apartment he hadn’t let go of your hand. The entire ride to Rosemary’s he held it over the center console of Butcher’s car, slowly stroking the back of it with his thumb making warm tendrils creep up your arm and settle in your heart. It was just like the night after the restaurant when Ben drove you home and he showed a softer side of himself that you hadn’t seen in forty years.

In the past 48 hours Ben had been more attentive and loving than he ever had and it made you hopeful for the future, hopeful that this really was going to work.

But you were still afraid that this was happening so fast. You weren’t expecting yourself to be so open to forgiving him, to be so ready to let him back in, to let him pick up the pieces of your heart but there he was holding duct tape with his piercing eyes and annoyingly gorgeous face.

“This is a nice apartment building.” Ben says looking up at the towering behemoth.

“She really likes it.” You shrug. “It’s close to a lot of schools and Rosie’s job. I kinda thought it was too uppity.”

“Neighborhood looks safe.” Ben gets out of the car.

“Yeah it-“ You begin to say trying to open your door but as soon as you do Ben is there opening it for you. “Oh thanks.”

“You look surprised.” He smiles.

“It’s just been a while since someone has opened a door for me.”

Ben’s smile twitches for a second. “Y/n?”

“Yes Ben.” You smooth the front of his shirt.

“How many others have there been?” He asks quietly.

You pause for a second hand still on his chest. As ridiculous as it might seem to some people, the truth was there hadn’t been anyone else.

At first it was difficult to find time for anything eat alone that in particular. Chasing a toddler around that occasionally picked up the couch and threw it across the room with her mind was enough to keep anybody busy, not to mention that you didn’t want to leave Rosemary alone with anyone for a night. And when Rosemary finally went off the college and you started to sell your paintings you started to get more comfortable being on your own again. You’d gone out to dinner with a few men who asked you after your show shared a kiss, but nothing ever felt right.

Finally came the one night that you thought things could be different. Max was a colleague that had flirted with you every chance he got. He wasn’t bad looking, reminded you a bit of Ben and your friend Adam Winthrop growing up. Max was also an artist who came to each of your shows, talked you down from the ledge whenever you thought the work wasn’t good enough and always took you out to get a drink after a show to make you feel better. He was sweet, funny, but when you were with him something always felt different.

But one night you figured why not? So you gave in, went back with Max to his apartment, but you couldn’t go all the way. It felt wrong. You could tell how much he liked you, how much he wanted you, but you didn’t want him. And it felt wrong to use someone. To make them believe you had feelings for them only to push them away.

So you told Max the truth and he respected you, didn’t make anything weird between the two of you, acted like nothing happened.

But now standing here in front of Ben with him asking you that question apart of you wished you had found someone else.

“Why?” You ask slowly.

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know you just haven’t- I mean we haven’t talked about that and-“

“I have never asked you how many people you’ve slept with. And I really don't think this is the best time?"

“I know that you've never asked but the last time I saw you I mean-" Ben's hand gently touches your waist, stroking against the top of your favorite worn pair of jeans.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about, he was thinking about the night you shared together, when he was everything you wanted, and he made you feel special loved, when he was gentle and made love to you the way you always imagined.

And yes maybe sex was off the table for a while, but it would come up again, eventually.

"Ben, can we talk about this after we get Rosemary and Lou back to Legend's?" You whisper placing a hand on his chest before you can stop yourself. You weren't sure if you'd ever be able to stop touching him, if you'd ever be able to stand in his presence and not feel warm or happy. You never expected it to be like this again, and certainly not so soon.

Ben looks disappointed for a moment, his green eyes flashing in the brilliant sunlight as it begins to sink behind the buildings. The wind carried the smells of summer, ice cream, beer, sunscreen, and just a hint of rain, rustling through the trees on the edge of Central Park. There would be a storm soon and you hoped that you were on the road before it hit. You hated driving in the rain.

"Okay." He releases your waist and takes your hand once more. "But we are going to talk about it right?"

"I don't see why it's so important." You steer him towards the front double doors where the doorman, Rodger, stands in a green and gold suit.

"Welcome back miss." Rodger smiles and opens one of the heavy glass doors for Ben and you.

"Thank you Rodger. How's the wife?" You flash a winning smile at him, still holding on tight to Ben who walks silently next to you.

"She's doing a lot better. The treatments are going well. She seems more like herself each day." Rodger smiles wider, eyes misting a little bit.

"That's wonderful to hear. Tell her I say hello." You say continuing to the gilded elevator that sits on the other side of the large marble lobby of the apartment building.

The truth was you knew that his wife was doing better, just as you knew she was receiving her treatments. Last Christmas Rodger had broken down when he was letting you up to see Lou and Rosemary and told you that his wife was diagnosed with lung cancer and because they didn’t have the money for treatment, it would probably be her last Christmas. Rodger was one of the kindest people you knew, and you didn't want him to lose his wife, so Rosemary and you both decided to shift around the generous funds that her grandfather left you, to send an anonymous donation so Rodger's wife could get treatment.

"Of course miss."

The elevator door closes, leaving Ben and you alone again, playing a cover of "Don't Stop Believing" on the piano.

Ben tugs you close and kisses you softly, so soft that it makes your eyes flutter while he smiles down at you. "I love you."

"What did you do?" You joke, nerves of Rosemary seeing Ben gone for a moment.

"You have such a big heart." He strokes his finger down your cheek, eyes soft as he gazes at you.

"He was going to lose his wife." You murmur. Ben was doing it again, seeing through you, understanding you even without knowing the whole story. It was like he always had a way of laying you bare, able to see your thoughts and secrets even though he wasn't a mind reader. "He loves her so much and for him to lose her like that-"

Ben hugs you closer to his chest. "I understand what that's like."

You see where his mind is, see that it's on a beach overseas, with blood soaked sand and your body lying in his arms as you draw your last breath. It hurt you to see the pain in his eyes, the loss even when you were standing right in front of him, even when you were in his arms, pressed against him in the way that always made you think that he was made for you just as the way you were made for him.

How could I ever forget how he made me feel? How wonderful it was to be with him when all you could see was the boy you grew up with?

"I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise." You kiss him gently on the tip of his nose. It was more to reassure yourself than anything else. Rosemary was not going to react well to seeing him.

Might as well rip the band aid off right now.

The hallway is quiet, carpet plush and thick beneath your shoes and Ben and you make your way to the door at the end of the hallway. The blue paint is supposed to be calming, but your anxiety spikes as you raise your free hand to knock against the front door.

Please let her be here and not be kidnapped by Homelander.

The door opens.

Rosemary is dressed for work. Her maroon scrubs are clean and neat, her dark hair pulled back in a bun, her make up soft. She looks calm, but you can see the coming storm, just as you felt the coming storm outside the building, feel the electricity against your skin before the thunderclouds rose on the horizon. As soon as her eyes meet yours they narrow.

She's pissed.

"What are you doing here? I told you that I didn't need you to watch Lou tonight. Her babysitter is coming." Rosemary glances at Ben once, frown deepening as she notices his hand holding yours. You knew she was still holding back what she wished to say, choosing rather to ignore his presence rather than tear him apart here.

"I know. I'm not here for that. We have to go." You say, not wanting to discuss the full gravity of the situation in the hallway, but Rosemary shifts to block the doorway.

"You're not coming in. Not with him." She spits the word 'him' like it's a curse and you feel Ben's body tense in surprise.

I should have prepared him for this.

"Hi I’m-" Ben begins to say, trying to smooth things over.

"I know who you are." Rosemarys eyes narrow and flick back to you. “I can’t believe you fucking forgave him.”

"I-"

"Before you say you didn't that fucking hickey on your neck says otherwise."

Your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment, shifting the sweater to hide it again. “Rosie-“

“No no no. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Rosie-“ Ben tries to say.

"Don't you dare call me that." She snarls, face contorting in rage, burning so hot that you could practically feel the air around her raising in temperature. "You don't know me. We're not friends. And I don't care what she says, you're not my dad. You're just the asshole that fucked my mom, got her pregnant and then ripped her heart out." Rosemary spits. “Do you have any idea what you put my mother through? Do you have any idea?"

Ben's body is still tense beside you, pulled so taunt that you don't know how he hasn’t snapped "I know and I apolo-“

“You think one measly apology makes that okay? MAKES ANY OF THIS OKAY?”

“Can we please not do this in the hallway?” You sigh. The last thing you wanted was Mrs. Norbert, Rosemary's prehistoric nosy neighbor coming out into the hall with her yappy French poodle, the same one that always snapped at your ankles and at Lou when you ran into her in the lobby.

“He’s not coming in here.” Rosemary stands her ground in the doorway.

"I know that you’re angry, but I need you to put that aside right now because there are more pressing things we have to worry about.”

"Like what?" Her eyes narrow at you. "Oh let me guess, you guys fucked again, you're pregnant and now you're going to-"

"Don't you dare speak to her that way." Ben roars trying to step in front of you, but you put your hand up to stop him.

Rosemary might be your daughter, but to Ben she was someone who insulted you, family or no, he wasn't going to sit back and let her treat you that way.

"Ben." You say once to calm him down. The last thing you wanted was for him to go nuclear right now. "Rosemary please. I know that you're angry, but we're not here for some big reunion. This is more important than any of this. This is about keeping Lou safe."

At the mention of her daughter's name, you see Rosemary's resolve waver. Her eyes flick to Ben again, once more sizing him up. "Fine." She opens the door wider, so Ben and you can come inside the apartment.

The creative chaos of the living room soothes some of your nerves, but not all. This was going poorly. Well, worse than poorly. Rosemary could barely look at Ben let alone speak to him without looking like she'd smelled something rancid.

You knew it would be bad, but you didn't think that it would be like this.

Apart of your heart broke for Ben. You saw how he acted in the car when you told him he was a father, how upset he'd been at the thought of getting you pregnant and then abandoning you. And now Rosemary was basically making him feel like a deadbeat probably wasn't helped either.

All you hoped was that Ben wasn't focusing on what his father used to say to him about being a disappointment, hoped that he wasn't reliving the memories of everything his father shouted at him at night before Ben fled to the solace of your bedroom.

Because the truth was you weren't disappointed and certainly were not disappointed when you got pregnant. Heartbroken yes. Scared shitless, again yes. But not disappointed, you'd never say that about him or to him, not as long as you lived. You knew exactly what those words would do to him, exactly where they would transport him. And you refused to be the reason Ben was reminded of his father.

"Aunty y/n!" Lou crows as she weaves through the apartment, leaping off the teal colored couch and into your open arms. She squeezes you tightly, burying her face in your neck. To see her safe brings relief washing over you, the same feeling you felt when Rosemary opened the door, but tenfold now knowing that Homelander has not taken either or them.

And he won't ever.

"I missed you." She whispers.

"I missed you too honey." You smile down at your granddaughter. She leans back to glance at her mother who still stands at the front door, holding on to the handle like it's her last nerve. Ben is standing close to you, looking at the little girl in your arms, face impassive, but his eyes betray him, caught somewhere between shock, anger, and just a twinge of guilt.

Please don't be guilty Ben. You think to yourself, trying hard not to reach out and touch him.

"Mommy why were you yelling at aunty y/n?" Lou looks at where Rosemary stands awkwardly by the door glaring at Ben.

"Because I didn’t tell her my friend Ben was coming." You say rubbing her back softly.

"Him?" She points at Ben.

"Yes. And don't point honey it's rude."

"Hi." Lou gives him a toothless smile and waves her chubby hand at him, her dark hair flopping away from her face as she does so.

Ben blinks at her for a moment, before his mouth begins to quirk in a half smile, shoulders still tense. But you could see that he was trying, and it meant something that he was despite Rosemary practically tearing him a new one in the hallway.

"He looks like mommy." Lou giggles cuddling into your neck to look at him.

It was the one thing that you hadn't prepared Ben for, how much he looked like Rosemary, how similar they were. You knew that somewhere deep down he was probably thinking the same thing.

Rosemary's eyes skate to Ben who stares back at her with the same intensity, but something passes in the air between them, something that you can't place.

"Yes. Yes he does sweetie. Now why don’t you go get your art kit for me, and we’ll go." You put her on the ground and Lou scampers off to her bedroom while the three of you stand there in awkward silence.

"Why do we have to go? I thought you didn’t expose yourself because you didn't go to Russia to get him." Rosemary asks. She still wouldn’t say his name. Then again you weren't expecting her to call him dad.

HA. Like that would ever happen.

Ben scoots closer to you reaching for your hand, but when Rosemary narrows her eyes at him, he pauses halfway. So you take his hand instead. "I did expose myself."

"How? Because of him?"

"Look I get that you're pissed, but I'm asking you to put it aside for one second so we can talk about this."

"Fine." Rosemary crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm listening." She still looks angry.

And you know what you're about to say is going to make her even angrier.

"We went to talk to the TNT Twins and things went south." You begin, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Why?"

"I'll explain that later. But all you need to know is that things went badly and Homelander showed up."

Rosemary's hands tighten on her biceps so tight that her knuckles turn white at the mention of Homelander. Like you Rosemary didn't have any experience with him, only that she also knew there was something off about him.

"What did you do?" She whispers.

"It's not what she did, it's more what that fucker did." Ben almost spits, his skin heating where it rests in your hand.

"Ben." You say squeezing his hand softly as a warning. He gains control. "There wasn't a choice. We got into a fight-"

Rosemary's eyes widen, inhaling sharply. And before she can stop herself, she touches your shoulder, eyes tracing your body as if looking for injuries. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"

"Yes Rosie I'm fine, but he knows who I am and that means-"

"He knows who we are." Her eyes flick in the direction Lou went to grab her bag. "Shit."

"You can say that again." Ben mutters.

"Give me five minutes." Rosemary looks from Ben to you for a moment. "But this doesn't change anything."

"I know. Just go. We'll wait here." You reply with a tight lipped smile.

You hoped that one day this would get easier, that Rosemary would be able to look at Ben or have a conversation with him without killing him. The three of you seemed to be practically immortal, that was a long time to hold a grudge. And you didn't want there to be a division in your family. You'd lived with one before and you didn't want to go back through that, the awkward holidays, passive aggressive letters, and tense conversations. You didn't want that for your new family.

Maybe if I show her how much Ben has changed she'll warm up to him.

"Are you okay?" You whisper.

Ben was looking around the living room with an unreadable expression, flicking through the photos on the back of the couch of Rosemary, You, and Lou to the hand drawn pictures on the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"Ben?"

"Yeah." He mutters. "I'm fine."

But you could tell he wasn't. He wasn't really focusing on anything, and even his tone of voice was strange, hollow, but before you could press him further Rosemary and Lou come back into the room.

"Here let me-" Ben steps forward to take one of the large duffle bags from Rosemary, attempting to help, but Rosemary yanks the bag out of his reach.

"No I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you."

"Rosemary-" You sigh.

"And she doesn’t either." Rosemary gestures to you with the bag. "Do you have any idea what you did to her? How much you hurt her? And now you think you can just waltz back in here and say 'oh I’ll fix it' like you didn’t fuck up her life?"

"Rosemary!" You shout eyes flicking to where Lou was standing with her TMNT backpack on with wide eyes.

"No. You might not be able to say it to him. But I will. We don’t need you here. We've survived the past forty fucking years without you and we'll survive the next million!"

"Rosemary stop." You step forward this time to move between them, but Rosemary doesn't back down.

"Stop what?" She shouts. "Stop reminding you of what he did? I'm sorry, but I'm not going to just look into his eyes and forgive him like you did-"

"I DID NOT LOOK INTO HIS EYES AND FORGIVE HIM.” You snap, but then stop to take a breath. “We are working through it-"

"Uh-huh sure." Rosemary rolls her eyes. "Just stay away from Lou and from me." She moves around Ben with Lou in tow, storming through the front door of the apartment and leaving you and Ben in the living room.

Oh yeah… This is really working out for the best.

The ride to Legend's is dead silent, all three hours, broken up only once when you stop for gas, but even then Rosemary won't speak to you. She barely makes eye contact as she takes Lou to the bathroom, leaving Ben and you to stand at the car, watching the rain soak through the cracked pavement outside. But even Ben has been more quiet than usual, staring through the windshield of the car lost in thought, and you didn't ask him to fill the silence. You figured that with everything that happened over the past few hours, Ben deserved some silence.

When Lou and Rosemary got back to the car, Ben had silently taken the car keys from you and slid behind the wheel. He knew how much you hated driving in the rain.

Legend didn't require an introduction to your daughter, but it had been an awkward meeting for Butcher and Hughie who breezed through the front hallway on the way up the stairs to their bedrooms.

And finally when it was just Ben, Rosemary, Lou, and you standing at the foot of the stairs, you still had no idea what to say, or if there really was anything to say. You knew that Rosemary didn't want to talk out everything in front of Lou.

By now it was past midnight and you could see that Lou was already starting to sway on her feet. It was hours past her bedtime, but she was still in good spirits. Lou never seemed to stop smiling, she was happy all the time, excited to try new things, and it always reminded you of the way Rosemary used to be when she was a child and as an adult before she lost her husband.

"Rosemary-" You begin to say, throat tightening.

"I'm going to take Lou to bed. We can talk in the morning." She doesn't look at Ben or you, but you could tell that she was tired. She was still wearing her maroon scrubs, hadn’t changed out of them, too worried about Homelander, but her hair had pulled free of the bun and her makeup was a little more smudged under her eyes now. "Say goodnight Lou."

"Goodnight aunty y/n." Lou says tottering over to you, and you stoop down on the ground to hug her close to your chest the anxiety about Homelander prickling under your skin once more.

“Tomorrow can we paint some?” She gives you a wide toothless smile.

She'd lost one of her front teeth a few days ago, and was particularly proud of the hole it left behind. She'd been excited to meet the tooth fairy, even wrote a thank you note and drew a picture of her holding her tooth out for the fairy.

“Whatever you want sweetie.” You smile as she pulls away, brushing her dark hair from her wide eyes.

But instead of going back to where Rosie is holding out her hand for Lou, she turns and hugs Ben’s leg where he stands next to you. Her head barely reaches the top of his knee, but it doesn't dissuade her from hugging him with all her might.

Ben stiffens, unsure what to do.

“Goodnight Ben.” Lou looks up at him with the same smile she had for you.

You feel your own lips begin to pull up at the edges to see how much Lou wanted Ben to like her, how much she was trying to make him feel at home. It warmed you heart.

Ben looks stunned for a minute, eyes flicking to yours wide, and Rosie looks angry, but slowly, Ben begins to smile. “Goodnight honey.” He rumbles giving her a pat on the head, because he's still not sure exactly how to handle this.

Lou smiles pleased with herself then lets Rosemary take her away waving once from over Rosemary's shoulder at Ben as Rosemary climbs the stairs in the direction of the room that Legend saved for them.

Ben stands there watching them go for a minute, lost in thought. “She doesn’t like me.”

“Lou? She loves you. Of course there’s a lot to love.” You smile, trying to take his hand, but Ben pulls away. His rejection pricks at your heart, you couldn't tell why he was doing that, why he was pulling away from you again.

Is he angry? At me? At Rosemary? Or Is this him being angry at himself all over again?

You thought that he was doing better up until you went to Rosemary’s apartment, thought that he wasn’t as upset about leaving you in the past. But now you weren’t sure.

“There’s a lot to hate.” He mutters, his eyes won't quite meet yours and the fear of him leaving begins to creep back, shuddering through your bones like the chill of a winter wind.

“As there is with anybody-“ You try to recover from his rejection, searching his face to understand why he was acting so different.

“I want Rosie to like me. I’m her father-“ He turns to stare at you, green eyes dark, filled with an clouding of emotions that strike you straight in the heart. It wasn't happiness, it wasn't love, it was something different, something that made a lump lodge itself in the back of your throat.

“I know Ben. She just needs some time-" You begin to say, reaching for him, but Ben steps away from you again, refusing to let you comfort him.

"Why did you tell her all those things about me? Did you really hate me that much?” Ben shouts, voice reverberating up the staircase, so loud that you're sure other people can hear you.

"What are you talking about-"

"All the shit that happened between us. Everything that happened that night. Everything I did-“

"She asked me for the truth and I didn't want to lie to her-" You try to explain.

You hadn't. You wanted her to know the truth about her father, just as she knew that truth about you. You thought that she deserved that. And it wasn't like you told Rosemary when she was three. You told her everything that happened when she was twenty three and she had just started seriously dating her future husband, when she was scared because she’d never felt that way about anyone before. And it reminded you of how you felt about the boy Ben used to be.

"I wish you had. Damnit y/n I'm her father, she should like me!" He seethes, fists clenched. Ben towers over you green eyes blazing in the soft light coming from the lights that line the hallway.

And somewhere deep down you start to feel angry. It comes surging up like the roar of a crowd pricking at the back of your spine until you can’t take it anymore.

"It's been 4 fucking hours since you met her, GIVE HER TIME."

"I can't believe you did this." Ben spits glaring at you.

"Are you serious right now?" Your mouth opens in shock.

Was this just some kind of joke? Is he really mad at me for this? Does he really think that I would do something like this purposely?!

"Did you really hate me that much? Did you really feel the need to turn her against me? Make her not love me?"

"I didn't turn her against you Ben. And I didn’t make her not love you." You snap back. "Yes I was angry with you, but that didn't mean that I didn't want you with me every single second in Rosemary's life. I didn’t want to do that alone. I shouldn’t have had to but I don't blame you for that. I’ve told you that-“

“Yeah you’re really showing that. You turned her against me. Made me some villain. Made me some monster who fucked you and then left-“

“I THOUGHT THAT’S WHAT YOU DID DIPSHIT!” You poke your finger into his chest. “Just because I’ve chosen to begin to forgive you does not mean I forgot what you did and what you said to me that night. But I’ll say this.”

He tries to open his mouth to retort, but you speak first.

“Every time something happened with Rosemary I turned to tell you and you weren’t there.

When I went into labor I wished you were there to hold my hand and tell me that everything was going to be okay, I wished that you were there smiling down at her when you held her for the first time. When she took her first steps and fell on her butt I wished you were there to swing her around and make her laugh. When I showed her how to paint for the first time I wished that you were there to see how she was covered in paint from head to toe. And I only told her those things about you because she asked and I don’t lie to my family. I’ve never lied to Rosemary and I’ve never lied to you. Ever.”

Ben stands there stuck straight each muscle clenched, wether it be in frustration or anger you don’t care. Your own anger was coming back, unlocking from the place you shoved it down when you thought you needed to be the perfect person you wanted others to see you as and not the broken girl who lived with a hole in her heart for so long.

“And yeah maybe you can be in here and pout and fucking blame me for her hating you. And maybe I shouldn’t have told her those things but I did. I told her the good and the bad about you just as she knows the good and the bad about me. She can make her own decisions because she’s a damn adult. And don’t you dare say that I didn’t want you there every second. Because I did. Even though you fucking ripped my heart out and stomped all over it I still wished that you could have been there for her, could have filled her life with love as much as I did.”

"But you still did it." Ben growls.

And you realize that maybe this is it, maybe that this is the one thing that pushes him away from you.

"Fine. Hate me if you want. I'm going to get a drink. Don’t follow me." You snap before turning and stomping towards the kitchen, away from him, all the while hoping that he’ll follow after you.

But he doesn’t.

Despite wanting to grab one of the bottles of whiskey in Legend's kitchen, you restrain yourself and instead turn to the coffeemaker. It was fancier than yours, but you supposed that coffee would taste the same. You busy yourself with the steps of making the coffee to stop going over what you and Ben just yelled at one another, but your hands were still shaking.

Did he really think I didn't want him there? I mean yeah I was pissed from everything that happened, but I didn't want Rosemary to grow up without a father. I would have told him eventually that I was pregnant, I didn't want to do that alone.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee and lean back against the counter as you take a sip remembering the day you took the pregnancy test. It was more obvious than anything else, not the lack of your period but the morning sickness. You never got sick. You remembered being afraid at first, the thought of raising a child alone scared you. You weren't sure you even wanted to be a mother, because of everything yours put you through. But then you thought of Ben. Yes you hated him, but the baby might be the last part of him that existed anywhere. If you decided not to have it, Ben would really be gone and you would be alone all over again. So you decided to have Rosemary and you never regretted that decision. Especially now that she had Lou.

You roll the cup in your hands, feeling the warmth of the mug transfer into your palms.

Maybe I shouldn't have told her everything I did. But she knows everything about me. She knows that I killed Countess. She knows the good and bad about me. It felt unfair to only tell her the good about Ben, she deserves to know the truth. She's just upset. Honestly, she's also a upset with me as well for forgiving him or partially forgiving him.

You move to the kitchen table, stretching out in the worn wooden chair and place your mug down on the circular dark wood table. You wanted Rosemary to warm up to him, but at the same time you didn't want to get in between them. She needed to do this for herself and you didn't want to force them together.

You hear someone enter the kitchen. Probably Ben. But when you look up you realize that it's Butcher.

He stands just on the edge as if he's debating whether or not he wants to come in.

"Didn't realize you were still up." He raises an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise love?"

"You realize that the V is completely out of your system right now right? And I could slowly peel your skin from your body with my mind if I wanted to?" You mirror his eyebrow raise while taking a sip of coffee.

"Eh. Worse ways to go." Butcher shrugs. "Anything stronger in here than coffee?"

"Top cabinet above the refrigerator. The good stuff is in the back. Legend usually tries to hide it from himself."

“Why?”

“Because he thinks it’s a waste to drink the good stuff when he’s really drunk and can’t appreciate it.”

“Seems fair.” Butcher finds the bottle of whiskey easily, moving to the cabinets to find a glass. “You want a cuppa?”

“I told myself I wasn’t going to-“ You pause for a moment thinking of how wonderful it would be if you could just forget for a few minutes. “But sure.”

“Coffee not working?”

“It never has.” You take the cup gratefully from his outstretched hand as Butcher folds himself into the chair next to you. It was weird to say the least. The only thing he had done was act hostile to you and now him being nice was enough to give you whiplash.

The rest of the house was completely silent, except the soft turn of pages. You figured that meant Rosie was reading one of her books to distract herself from everything that happened earlier.

I should be in there talking to her. Trying to explain all this.

But you were tired and still reeling from your fight with Ben and didn’t feel like getting into it with Rosemary for the second time today.

“So why’d you do it?” Butcher takes a big swig from the glass in front of him.

“What?”

“You lied about your powers to Vought for years. Why?”

You roll the glass between your fingers, watching the amber colored liquid slosh against the sides. “I’ll answer that if you answer my question.”

Butcher pauses. “Fine.”

“What did Homelander do to your wife?”

Butcher freezes, leaning back in his chair, one hand on his thigh curling into a fist.

"Legend told me that you had this thing for him because of it-" You continue cocking your head to the side examining Butcher's sudden tense stance.

“Not important.”

“Then I guess you won’t find out more about me.” You shrug.

After the past few days you didn't understand how you were here drinking with Butcher of all people. You still didn't completely trust him and you didn't like that he wanted to use Ben like he was his own personal nuclear bomb.

You both sit in the silence for a few minutes waiting for the other to break.

“He raped her.”

The words are heavy, expelled in a breath after Butcher drains his glass. For a minute you see his tough exterior crack, see the vulnerability in his stature, but then it's gone again. You feel your heart thud once in your chest, jaw locking. It only proved again how messed up Homelander was.

“Is she-"

"She's dead." He pours himself another full glass from the bottle of whiskey.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, starting to understand why he hated Homelander so much. Honestly if Homelander did something like that to my family I would rip him limb from limb.

For the first time since you met Butcher, you feel sorry for him, you understand where the sadness in his gaze comes from and where the tough exterior seems to mask the vulnerability underneath.

But at the same time, you refused to underestimate him.

Butcher nods once then glances over at you expectantly as if re-asking his question with only a look.

“It’s never been about the power for me. Or about proving how powerful I was to other people. I got the injection because Ben asked me to. It wasn't because I wanted to be superhuman or god-like or special. Plus I figured as soon as Vought or the government found out what I could really do then I’d never see the light of day again.”

"But how did you keep it a secret from Vought? They have so many fucking connections." He presses.

"Honestly Ben and I didn't figure it out until the 60s."

"Why is that?"

"The first time I died it wasn't a supe that killed me so there wasn't a change. But later when more supes started coming out of the woodwork, that's when we realized it. And I didn't care."

"Somehow you had to care." Butcher leans forward in his chair, looking at you like you're crazy.

"I didn't have a reason to. Ben liked the spotlight and I didn't."

“Is that why you stopped being Indigo?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question cowboy.” You tap your glass with a smile. “Who’s Ryan?” You had heard Hughie and Butcher whisper the name a few times, figured that it was another supe they were planning to merc.

He hesitates. “Homelander’s kid.”

“He has a kid?” Your mouth drops open in shock.

How does Butcher know that? Is it because he's so obsessed with Homelander that he's going to ask Ben to go after Homelander's son? No. No way. Like hell I'm gonna let this guy kill a kid.

You try to think of a reason why Vought would keep Homelander's son out of the media, a reason why they wouldn't show that the golden boy had a perfect son.

“But how I mean-“ You stop tracing Butcher's face, watching the way his eyes harden, and how his jaw locks together and you realize why Butcher knows about Homelander's kid. “Your wife.”

Butcher doesn’t answer, doesn't confirm what you've said, instead he pours more from the bottle into his glass.

Wow that’s fucked up.

“I’d say I'm sorry again, but I don’t think it’s going to help and honestly I thought my life was way more fucked up than yours. Guess not.” You take a sip from the glass in front of you. It burns pleasantly as it travels down you throat reminding you how much you missed it. “It got old quick.”

“What did?” Butcher looks up from the wooden table.

“Being a hero dealing with all that Vought shit. Plastering a smile on my face, flaunting in front of the cameras, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Ben liked it. He was always in the spotlight, the golden boy and I was too, but we’d been doing it for years and I always- I don’t know- wanted a family.”

Your mind suddenly goes back to the night you told Ben that, the night that you told him what you wanted and how today Ben professed that he wanted to be the one to give you those things, always had wanted to give you those things.

The fight you just had resurfaces in your mind, thinking of how angry he was at you for telling Rosemary the truth about him.

I made my choice. She made hers. One day I think she'll warm up to him, but until then he's just going to have to get through this.

Just because you believed that did not make it any easier. Your heart was tearing in two. You wanted Rosemary to love him the way you did, but at the same time you were scared all over again that this would all be too much for Ben, too dramatic. He didn't like drama, never seemed to.

“Really?” Butcher doesn’t look convinced by your confession.

“Yeah. Plus I was pregnant with Soldier Boy's kid. Vought was obsessed with Ben and I know that if they knew about Rosemary they wouldn't hesitate to take her away. It would have been worse if they knew what my power was. I doubt they would have let either of us vanish into thin air. But even before that I was seriously thinking about getting out-“

“And Soldier Boy fucking Countess was the final nail in the coffin eh?” Butcher's smirk makes your stomach flip flop.

You were still trying to forget that. Really trying to forget that.

“Yeah.” You grumble into the glass momentarily remembering the night at the premiere, but this time seeing them together doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. And instead it’s replaced by Ben the past few days, the one that continued to reassure you of his love, the one who continued to hold you close to him, the one that kissed you whenever he could, the one who patiently waited for you, and the one who reminded you of the boy you lost all those years ago.

Butcher watches you for a moment. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

You look at him surprised. It was the first time that Butcher seemed to actually, well, give a shit.

“Thanks. It was.” You wait a second. “So how did you meet Hughie?”

“Why is that important?”

“Because he’s nothing like you. He’s a good kid.”

“You sayin I ain’t a good person love?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Butcher has the audacity to smile. “You know what I think? I think you pretend to be a good person but you’re really just a bitch who probably didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.”

You lean back in your chair feigning shock. “Is it that obvious?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I don’t see how you got mixed up with Soldier Boy in the first place.”

“I did tell you.”

“What?”

“I didn’t lie about some of the things I said to you the first time we met. Ben and I grew up together. We were friends before all of this.”

“And you what? Followed him?”

“Something like that.”

Butcher sits there for a second tapping his finger on the crystal glass in his hand. Everything in Legend's home was vintage or old, the glasses included. You could remember drinking out of these same glasses years ago, on the porch behind Legend's house the day you realized you were pregnant and you told him you were leaving.

Legend didn't know, but you think deep down he did. Anyone who knew Ben couldn't dismiss how much Rosemary looked like him. Not to mention Legend knew what happened that night between the two of you.

Butcher opens his mouth, but as he does, Ben appears in the kitchen doorway. He still looks a little angry, frown prominent on his face, but his green eyes look from the glass to Butcher to you.

"That's my cue." Butcher grunts. "See you in the morning poppet." He vanishes down the hallway behind Ben leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. It seems smaller with him standing there in the door, blocking most of it with his broad shoulders and wide stance.

"Are you going to come to bed?" He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway.

"Are you going to start yelling at me again?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I wasn’t fucking yelling." Ben grumbles. "And even if I was, you weren't exactly whispering."

"Sounded like yelling to me." You frown at him, before looking down at your glass again.

So much for an apology. Then again I probably owe him one too.

Ben’s jaw tightens. “Please come to bed.” His voice is composed, but you can still hear the tinge of his anger seep through.

"Surprised you said please. Finally using those manners I've heard so much about." You snark before you can stop yourself.

That is not helping anything.

"Come to bed." His teeth are gritted together.

“Why?"

"Because I said so."

"You are not my dad Ben. You can't just order me around."

"Just fucking come to bed!" He snaps straightening from the door, eyes blazing.

"Why is it so important I come to bed Ben? You need me to read you a bedtime story or something? Or is it because you want to have sex? I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really feel like having sex with you right now. And I don't think I will anytime soon if we keep fucking fighting about stupid-“

“Because I can’t sleep without you there damnit! I never have been able to even when we were fucking kids!"

You pause shocked. Ben had never admitted that before. You were still trying to get used to when he admitted that he loved you how open and vulnerable he’d been, but this-

He’s frowning at you waiting for you to say something, but when you don’t. He turns and stalks back towards the stairs to descend into the basement where the bedroom the two of you were sharing was.

Guilt breaks something in your chest, because now sitting out here felt like a punishment for him and you didn't think that was right.

Damn it.

You wash out the mug in the sink followed by the glass, but you look at the half-full bottle on the table.

Maybe I should bring it with me?

It swings from your hand as you walk down the dimly lit hallway descending into the fully furnished basement. You weren't thrilled with the room, had insisted that Legend change the sheets and spray down the room before you could sleep in there. You knew him, and knew exactly what had happened Legend's house since he had it custom built years ago.

Ben is sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking a blunt that he probably got from Butcher, who seemed to have an endless supply for Ben, much to your annoyance.

"I'm such a fucking pussy. I shouldn't have said that." He mutters more to himself than to you. His gaze is lowered on the shag carpet.

It was the first time that you'd heard him say something like that since he came back to you, something that sounded more like Soldier Boy than the boy you grew up with, sounded more like Ben's father.

"Ben." You sigh, putting the bottle on the bedside table, before you tilt his head back to look at you, hand cupping his chin. "You're not a pussy. I can't sleep without you either and there’s nothing wrong with that. I don't want you to feel like you can't say stuff like that to me. I love you and I won't judge you for that or think less of you. I will judge you for saying stupid shit like you did earlier."

“I’m sorry.” He sighs out a breath of smoke. “I just hate that she doesn’t like me. I’m her father she should like me-“ He repeats the same idea from earlier.

“She just needs to warm up to you."

“Maybe.” Ben mutters. "Or maybe she won't."

He looks upset. But not his usually angry upset, more disappointed and you decide that’s worse. Ben was so strong and didn’t allow himself to give in to his emotions the same way everyone else did. You hated that about him, but you were the only person who knew why. Ben's father had made him believe that showing emotion made you weak, you were there a few times that he yelled at Ben, heard the horrible things that he shouted at his only son, and it broke your heart. If it was your lot in life to bring him peace, to show him love, and to teach him that it was okay to be vulnerable, you happily would bear that cross.

You gently push back on his shoulder so he’ll move his forearms where they rest on his thighs and so you can sit on his lap. Ben’s arm comes around your waist to hold you to him, while the other continues to rest between you when he takes another drag from the blunt. “Ben, I promise she will.” Your knees rest on either side of his hips as you balance on him, ignoring the urge to wrinkle your nose at the smell.

“Your family never seems to like me.”

“She’s your family too and Lou loves you.” You brush his hair back from his face and he leans forward into your touch. "She's an excellent judge of character. Pretty soon she's gonna be drawing you in the family portraits and once that happens you're in, there's nothing stopping you."

Ben's mouth twitches but he doesn’t smile. "She's cute."

“She is. And if she likes you, you’re doing something right.” You smile at him. “And my family liked you it was just my mom who thought you were the devil. My brother thought that you were okay and my dad liked you plenty. Remember he never ratted you out when you slept in my room?”

“He was a good man. We would talk sometimes.” Ben blows out a lungful of smoke and this time your nose wrinkles at the offensive smell, before you realize what he’s just admitted.

Ben notices your discomfort and flicks the blunt into the ashtray shaped like a naked woman on the bedside table.

“About what?” Your father had never mentioned any conversation with Ben or at least you didn't remember him saying anything about Ben, beside your father's usual questions as to what Ben and you were going to do that day.

“You.” Ben whispers, not meeting your eye.

“When?”

“Sometimes I’d come try to see you when you were out with Howard." Ben sighs his name. "Ended up talking with your dad.”

“Are you serious?”

He nods hands gently stroking along your waist.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you came by?”

“Didn’t think it was important Sweetheart.” Ben pauses eyes flicking up sheepishly to look at you. "I didn't want you to think that I was hanging around waiting for you to get back. I was but-" You can tell that it pains him to say it, like he didn't want to admit he cared, but the thought that he came by to check on you made you happy.

“What did you say about me?”

Ben presses his lips together.

“Ben?”

“He wanted to know how your artwork was coming along, what we had done in the past week. Stuff like that. One time he said he didn’t like Howard either.”

“What?" Your hands tighten on Ben's shoulders in shock.

“He said that he hated the way you looked whenever Howard came around and then he said if he was gonna give his permission for anyone to marry you it was going to be me.” Ben shrugs it off as if he hasn’t said the most shocking thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

Your father would ask you about Ben occasionally and only when your mother left the room. He always seemed pleased when Ben would come pick you up, one time he gave Ben some money so he could buy tickets when you both went to a carnival, but you had no idea that they had talked about Ben marrying you.

“Hold on. Did you-" You pause for a second. "Did you ask my father if you could marry me?”

“No.” Ben answers quickly.

“Well then did he say why he didn't like Howard?"

“He said he liked how happy I made you. Said that you would always be singing in your room after you saw me.” Ben smiles one of his hands curving around your hip to hold you steady on his lap. “I told him I was sorry he had to hear that. You have many talents y/n, but singing is not one of them.”

“I don’t want to hear it from you. There’s about a million tapes of you trying to sing, not to mention you trying to dance. I wanted to jump out the window when you dragged me to that Solid Gold Music Video shoot.“ You roll your eyes at him.

Ben presses a hand to his chest as if offended. “You don’t like the way I dance? Because I happen to remember a few times that we’ve danced together and you certainly seemed to be having a good time.”

“I’m a good actress.”

“Sure.” Ben snorts. “Then again I think I’m good a few other things too. Things that I wouldn’t mind showing you sometime.” His arm wraps around your waist as he pulls you into his chest, lips catching along the shadow of your jaw.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself I’ll say that.” You laugh.

"Mhmm." The rumble of his answer seems to vibrate down your spine spreading warmth in its wake.

"Ben." You warn, as his hands begin to play with the bottom of your shirt.

"I know." He whispers raising his eyes again to look at your face with a soft smile, but you can still see a flicker of disappointment behind them.

Deep down you knew that you were getting closer to forgiving him, but it had only been two days, and everything between the two of you was still a little rocky. You wanted things to calm down again before you took that big step with Ben again. You didn't want to rush it, and you could see that Ben didn't want to either.

"How about tonight, we do something a little different." You trace your index finger over his lips, loving the soft curve beneath the pad of your fingertip.

"What do you mean?" He looks confused.

"You'll see." You murmur against his lips as you drop your mouth down to his, losing yourself in him all over again.

A/N: I know it's been a while guys and I know it's crazy to end it on another cliffhanger but... I'm sorry, not sorry? I hope y'all enjoyed this one. I'm sorry it took me a while to get it out, the writer's block is turning into a soul sucking abyss, but honestly, what's new? 😂 Hope that y'all enjoyed this one and I'm excited to hear what y'all think!

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the series let me know:)

(Also if you have asked to be apart of the taglist and you are not being notified- I am trying to fix it, but it's being weird. Please let me know if you haven't received a notification.)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles soldier boy #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #billy butcher #hughie campbell #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #the boys s3 #the boys season 3 #the boys tv #the boys series #the boys

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heavenbarnes · 7 months ago

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Oh my god. I just read your older!bf Simon returning from deployment and I LOVED it! It was so PERFECT.

Can you maybe do a part where he does decide to retire from the TF141 and decides to settle down? Stay home with reader and enjoy a normal life, without them having to worry that Simon might not return. I adore your writing style!

course i can 🫶🏼 got a headache, need something soft lol

when your older bf!simon finally makes the call, has the come-to-jesus with price- it doesn’t come easy.

they have to have a sit down, one where simon finally admits that he just can’t do it anymore. not with you around, not when he’s finally got something to lose.

it’s the nightmares that kick things off, that recurring one where he’s like an omniscient being looking down on you and the empty house. the one where you finally get that knock on the door.

it scares the shit out of him.

simon never used to think- let alone dream about his own mortality. that was until you.

he thought it’d be tough, that price would tell him how much the team needed him- how much king and country needed him.

“good choice mate, i’m proud of you”

simon managed to hold back the tears till he got home.

he hadn’t even told you what he’d planned, you’d definitely spoken about it but usually over dinner or when he was all soft and pliable post-sex.

the times where he could really see himself being normal with you. being safe.

you’d known the minute he walked in the door that something had changed. he wasn’t carrying an unbearable weight on his shoulders, for one.

“simon- what’s happened?”

that broke the floodgates.

it was an amalgamation of all that’d been following him since he joined the force. learning to live with eyes in the back of his head. accepting his own fate. becoming a ghost.

that and hearing those words from a man like price.

simon was man enough to admit he was also dog-tired. mid-forties, set of shoulders that you could bounce bullets off they were so tense. his lower back was absolutely fucked these days.

he was so tired.

and here he was, locked in your arms as your ran soothing circles along his spine- softly cooing a gentle “shh” while he cried.

cried like a fucking baby.

anyone else knew about this? he’d turn inside out. but that was before you, that was before he learnt he could show you every ugly little thing about him and find you loving him regardless.

you who loved him whether he was a perfect soldier or a good man.

you who forgave him for everything he’d yet to forgive himself for.

simon had never felt so alive.

stay-at-home-husband looked good on him.

washing basket in hand, cursing at the machine (he’d loaded it so poorly). vacuum trailing behind him, getting caught on literally everything. dishwasher stacked at all odd angles.

you were just happy to have him home.

happy to walk through the door and smell the dinner cooking. happy to hear him in the garage fixing up his car. happy to hear him fixing everything that’d been waiting for him to find time.

happy to have him safe.

simon joined the local rugby club (after you’d made him get a regular physio). he’d laid a pretty wee garden under the kitchen window for your herbs. he could usually be found at your elderly neighbour’s house, carrying her groceries in and staying for a brew.

he’d been allocated a military issue fresh start.

#i just really like building on his domestic possibilities #want to give this man the life he deserves #older bf!simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley blurb #simon riley drabble #simon ghost riley blurb #simon ghost riley drabble

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gay-jesus-probably · 1 year ago

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Let me just preface this by saying everyone is allowed to have their own opinions, TOTK is a really fun game, and I'm glad that other people have been able to enjoy the story as well.

...But I'm being dead serious with my complaints about the narrative being 100% imperialist propaganda. And I'm getting really tired of people replying to those posts by saying it can't be imperialist propaganda, because imperialism is bad and the game says that Hyrule is the good guys.

Like, guys. That's not the argument you think it is. Yes, I am aware that the game tells us Ganondorf is a flat, one dimensional character with no ambitions, interests or motivations beyond destroying the entire world for the hell of it, and also it's totally not racist because he's green, not brown like literally every other member of his race. Unfortunately literally all of these things are kind of the entire goddamn problem.

See, the thing is, everyone trying to make these arguments is accepting the game at face value. Hyrule is the perfect and almighty nation chosen by the demigod Zonai, and whose royal family has the right to rule due to their divine heritage. The other races exist to serve the glory of Hyrule, and they're happy to do it. Ganondorf is pure evil and must be stopped at any costs.

But that's not how anything works. The story informing me that Hyrule is the ultimate good that has done nothing wrong is the whole goddamn reason why I don't trust Hyrule at all. There's always more of a reason than that. And the game fucking suggests there was more going on! Ganondorf mentions Rauru has repeatedly 'invited' the Gerudo to become Rauru's subjects, and let's be clear here, it doesn't matter how peaceful those 'invitations' were, when the guy who owns every single magical nuclear missile in the world repeatedly demands you surrender to him, there's always going to be an implied threat of 'do it or get magically nuked'. Just that power difference alone shows us exactly why Ganon would feel threatened enough to invade. It's because Rauru was holding a gun to his head, and Ganon was expected to just trust that he'd never pull the trigger.

And yes, even if it wasn't intentional Hyrule was always threatening to wipe out the other nations, considering the entire royal family walked around openly wearing their magical nukes as cute accessories. If they couldn't be safely hidden away, there wouldn't be four other secret stones sitting untouched in a vault until the last second.

But that's never acknowledged. Of course Hyrule is the only nation with the right to the secret stones; even if other races get to touch them, they can only have them if they swear eternal blind loyalty and servitude to the glory of King Rauru and Princess Zelda. Ganon wanting to have one magical nuclear bomb out of a stockpile of eight of them is proof that he's dangerous and evil. I mean my god, what if he just walked around all day wearing a magical nuke and using its power for his own benefit, that would be terrifying. It's only okay when Hylian royalty does it.

And you can't argue that Ganon betrayed his own people, considering we don't get to know fucking anything about his relationship with his people. He's shows as the leader of the Gerudo, we're told he's a hero to his people, he has soldiers that loyally follow him into battle... and then oh nevermind, they all hate him and will spend eternity trying to atone for sharing a race with him. How did the entire race do a complete 180 in the span of at most a few months? Who cares, what's important is that now they accept they exist to serve Hyrule so they get to be the good guys now and we don't need to know why they were following Ganondorf, or why they stopped following him.

Basically my point is that yeah, I fucking know how the game insists everything went down. That's the entire reason I think it's imperialist propaganda, because the entire story feels like Hylian propaganda to conceal and justify some horrific atrocities that caused all of this. I literally do not believe that I'm getting the story through reliable narrators, especially considering that the only people allowed to actually tell me the story are all the characters that have the most reasons to be heavily biased in favour of Hyrule.

When the game shows me protagonists that have a massive amount of power and control over the entire world, then says the bad guy doesn't like that system just because he's evil, and literally nothing and nobody in the game says anything to oppose that take, I have some questions about what the fuck the story isn't telling me. And I'd really appreciate it if people would stop trying to argue with me just by telling me to stop asking those questions.

#tears of the kingdom spoilers #tears of the kingdom #ganondorf #can you tell that i'm annoyed by these people bcause i'm annoyed #...nothing personal if you are taking the story at face value btw #its just that i'm trying to dig into the story to talk about it #and it's frustrating to have people telling me i'm wrong because i'm analyzing the game #like guys... if someone doing a little bit of analysis is all it takes to dismantle the entire story #then it's not a well written story

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randombush3 · 8 months ago

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a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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evervigilantnightshade · 20 days ago

Text

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

MASTERLIST

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps.

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls.

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school.

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious.

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.”

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?”

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?”

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.”

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice.

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers.

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile.

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter.

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base.

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Captain Price to join his team. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for.

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of.

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission.

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat.

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all.

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment.

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.”

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses.

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.”

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him.

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him.

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.”

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying.

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips.

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head.

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated.

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards.

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello.

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer.

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted.

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.”

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?”

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled.

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl.

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself.

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter.

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate.

Price went over and sat at the picnic table.

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances.

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend.

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them.

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her.

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.”

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over.

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.”

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm.

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck.

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up.

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked.

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.”

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile.

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back.

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face.

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.”

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder.

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly.

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.”

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?”

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?”

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment.

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk.

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?”

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh.

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious. “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously.

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying.

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate.

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed.

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands.

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try.

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time.

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate.

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table.

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?”

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.”

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!”

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers.

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was.

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance.

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly.

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!”

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged.

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?”

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.”

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen.

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad.

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.”

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list”

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?”

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.”

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?”

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her.

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.”

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up.

“Sorry, that was too…” He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back.

“Don’t you dare.”

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.”

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it.

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward.

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name.

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes.

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused.

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around.

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly

“Dishes” Price added behind her.

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story.

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.”

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.”

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard.

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?”

“NO!” Y/N and Price said in unison.

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside.

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down.

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling.

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded.

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?”

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.”

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go.

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself.

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.”

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was.

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly.

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.”

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied.

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

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

#COD #captain john price #john price #task force 141 #john price x y/n #captain john price x reader #john price angst #john price pining #captain john price angst #john price slow burn

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 2 years ago

Note

Hello hello!!! I have another request for the Mutefemreader with ghost if that’s okay. She gets paired with him to spar because all the other soldiers already have their partners. And she’s just like 🥲”oh god.” But after a bit of sparring theres ✨Tension~✨

Thank you! Love ur work sm 🎊🎊🎊💞💞

Thank you! Hmmm yess I love this @thedevillovesflowers ❤️

Also so sorry for how this took thank you for being patient ❤️

Fiery Touch

Warnings: suggestive, tension, mdni (18+ just to be safe)

Words: 3.7k

Readers call sign is “Quiet”

I'm not good at writing action scenes yet lol

Dread and a bruised ego is definitely what you would use to describe the current feelings going through you at this moment. Those things combined together were enough to make you feel too exhausted to continue to train even though you started not even an hour ago.

It was Price’s fault. You didn’t dare outwardly blame him but you couldn’t help but send him sharp looks from the corner of your eye across the training room as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest. You were waiting for Ghost, hoping that he wouldn’t show but knowing that the man never missed training even if he had been injured.

Ghost was your training partner, or more like you were Ghost’s, but Price had paired you up more than enough times to make it so you were stuck together. On normal days it didn’t matter, you both spotted each other when you lifted weights and helped keep each other on task when exercising. He was surprisingly a good motivator and though he didn’t need your encouragement, you still gave it to him.

You two made pretty good partners and you had noticed that since you had been paired up together, you’ve gained some muscles. Ghost being a good workout buddy was just one more thing added to the list of things that you liked about him.

Today however, was not a normal day. Today you were doing something you’ve come to dislike since you’ve joined the task force.

Sparring.

You had been the best at sparring in your old regiment. No one could match your agility and your ability to always find a weak point in your opponent which may have made you a little too proud in your abilities. Now you felt like your skills weren’t even passable, almost being as bad as a rookie’s, and it was because of the man who finally walked through the doors of the training room.

Despite Ghost’s size, he was agile and quick on his feet enough to where it seemed like he had predicted your moves before you even thought about them. He had strength from the hulk of muscles and body mass he had which made his punches staggering. And worst of all for you, Ghost had no weak points.

You had tried everything to find it but there was nothing that would work. He deflected every try like swatting a fly away, like it was merely a minor inconvenience to him. He never reacted to your attempts and instead retaliated with his own ways of exploiting your weakness. He never failed to knock you down or to pin you to the mat which bruised your ego but fueled his.

You’d take your defeat in stride if it weren’t for the fact that he gloated when you lost.

Not only did he rub it in your face with words but you could always tell he had a smug look on his face by the way he looked at you. He never tried to hide it and unfortunately for him his eyes were too expressive to even attempt that, though it seemed like he wanted you to see the way he looked at you. Proud, high off the strength he just displayed and so happy to remind you that you’ll never be as good as him.

It pissed you off and you knew that the reason you were always paired up with him was to get you to be better than you were.

“What’s with the look, sergeant?” Ghost wondered as he came up to you and that was when you realized you had been glaring at him. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“Just thinking about how I’m going to beat your ass.” You shrugged nonchalantly and he tilted his head.

There was a twinkle in his eyes that for anyone else could’ve been seen as condescending but you could tell that he was both equally amused and intrigued by your determination. His eyes squinted ever so slightly, a sign that he was smiling as he looked you up and down, slowly carving away at that false confidence with his burning stare.

Did he enjoy knocking you down a peg? You weren’t arrogant, in fact you rarely ever spoke about your abilities to anyone but it seemed like Ghost found happiness in beating you.

Maybe he was competitive or maybe he was just teasing you. It could also be because he wanted you to get better but you never remembered to ask.

“Cheeky.” He stepped forward, pushing himself into your space as he looked down his masked nose at you. “But can you live up to those words?”

You stared up at him, your bodies close enough that you could see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took. You knew he was trying to playfully intimidate you, hoping that you take the bait and give him a little bit of banter to work with before you both started, but he was doing something completely different to you.

Ghost was big. Everyone knew this and it wasn’t hard to miss but being up this close to him was uncommon. You had never paid attention to the way he would sometimes wander into your space and stay there, looming over your shoulder from behind since you were so used to being around him already. But being face to face with him, so close that you were sure if you could see his face you’d be able to pick out the details of it really put into perspective just how big he really was.

The muscles in his arms were visible to you since he was wearing a shirt that had the sleeves cut off of it and was also rather tight fitting. While you could see muscles on his torso, you could tell that he was toned but still somehow kept a lot of the bulk from fat on his body as well. You could see some of the scars he had on his arm, the veins that ran across the very large muscles that he had gained from years of working.

You couldn’t help but ogle at him despite the fact that Ghost was watching you. Ever since your first mission together, it was hard to ignore how your feelings had changed towards him and that came with how you saw him physically.

You weren’t sure what the feelings were, it was too early to tell. However, whatever it was, it was taking over your mind with…inappropriate thoughts about your lieutenant.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but think about how his hand fit perfectly into yours or how you really liked the way he looked at you as if he was seeing who you were, past the silence and the sign language. The hurt woman that he saw in the cabin, but it wasn’t bad, it was almost like he was acknowledging that he understood you.

And then there were the other thoughts, the ones that crept into your mind at the dark hours of the night when you were alone in your room.

You blinked them away before they even appeared and tried to regain your cockiness.

“Fight me and find out.” You flashed him a smile and you saw his eyes bounce down to your lips for a split second.

“Get on the mat.” He demanded and you nodded.

You stepped on the mat, stretching your arms and shoulder as you prepared to put up a fight against your lieutenant. You were determined to win this time, to prove to your lieutenant that you were an excellent fighter and that it didn’t matter if he was larger than you or stronger. You belonged in the task force and even if he never made you feel unwelcome, you still felt the need to prove it.

Ghost stood in front of you, shoulders squared and his arms to his side as he waited for you to get ready. He stared at you with narrowed eyes full of determination and a seriousness that came from his title.

You ignored his scrutiny and took a deep breath, grounding yourself to the mat before you gave him a hard stare that signaled that you were ready for whatever was in store.

As soon as you got into a fighting stance, Ghost struck first. He didn’t give you a chance to react as pushed you hard against your shoulder and swept your leg out from under you, causing your back to hit the mat with a loud thump.

“Too slow.” He shook his head as he stood over you, unaffected by your glare.

You weren’t expecting him to go easy, in fact you didn’t want him to, and yet this quick defeat had irritation boiling inside the bottom of your stomach.

You hopped back up from the mat and swung at Ghost, missing each time as he managed to dodge every single one of your punches. His eyes never left you, his gaze burning holes into you as he snatched one of your wrists and tossed you on the mat easily.

He shook his head again with eyes that showed disapproval, an action that made you smack a hand against the material under you. This was a bad start for you and you knew that you were going to have to put in more effort than you have before to win this.

“Just warming up.” You huffed and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“There’s no warming up on the field.” He snapped back and you sent him a glare.

You got back up, taking a moment to get back into a stance before you raised your fists, keeping your eyes trained on Ghost. Your heart was already beating fast and yet he didn’t seem to be too affected by your earlier attempts which made you clench your jaw.

You threw another punch and managed to hit him on the shoulder, but the only reaction you got out of him was a punch that you barely dodged.

It was enough to get your adrenaline pumping however, and you both spent a few minutes trading punches and kicks, getting into a good rhythm that allowed you both to learn each other's routine as if this was the first time you both were sparring together.

Ghost was quick. He didn’t pull his punches and he stepped into your personal space to crowd you as he attempted to throw you off balance or beat you down, within reason. He kept you on your toes, making it so you had to rely on pure instinct and adrenaline to keep yourself in the round. All while glaring at you, another attempt to catch you off guard in an attempt to threaten you and yet it did the opposite.

You pushed his punches out of the way and threw your own, managing to hit him a few times purely by luck.

Sweat formed on your skin and you were breathing heavily. You felt like you were working in fast motion, as if your senses were heightened. It gave you a rush, one that you hadn’t felt since your time before joining the task force.

You got cocky, thinking that you could do anything. You stepped into Ghost’s space, pushing him back and throwing a quick punch while trying to swipe his feet out from under him, thinking that it was going to work.

However, you should’ve known better.

Ghost grabbed onto your wrist and twisted it behind your back with an iron grip. He wrapped an arm around your throat and held you against his front in a firm grip even as you dug your nails into his forearm with your free hand.

You were burning up, sweat dampening your clothes from the exercise and having Ghost’s hot body pressed against your back didn’t help. Up this close you could hear his heavy breathing and feel the sweat from his skin against your own, his strong muscles flexing against you as he kept you in place while you struggled.

“C’mon,” he grunted in your ear between heavy breaths. “You can do it.”

All thoughts went out the window as you felt his hot breath on your neck through his mask and. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was holding you against him and your ass was pressed against a very sensitive part of his body. Your body went hot and your breath hitched in your throat as you thought about how this position would be a lot different if both of you were somewhere more private.

Yoru stomach flipped and you attempted to hook your ankle around his leg to get him down and your hips bucked back into him.

Ghost let go of your arm and moved his hand to your hip, gripping onto it tight to stop you from moving. His breathing suddenly went ragged and he dug his fingers into the hem of your pants.

You sucked in your lips to keep in the noise that nearly escaped your mouth and tapped twice on his arm to signal you were done.

Both of you separated immediately, taking multiple steps to put distance between you both as you caught your breath. You could breathe again and yet it was like there wasn’t enough air to fill your lungs as the heat from your body made you feel dizzy. You were hunched over, staring at the mat below and watched as sweat dripped off onto before you glanced up at your lieutenant.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see him staring at you and yet you felt even more breathless when your eyes connected.

There was something there, something heated in the way his eyes went somewhat hooded. His chest heaved up and down while his eyes bounced around your face before trailing towards your back side for just a split second.

“Give up already?” He signed and you clenched your jaw.

“Again.” You demanded and stood up straight.

You were far from ready to go again but you couldn’t give up and you couldn’t let the smug bastard win. You stepped back in front of him and got back into a stance, however your eyes were too focused on the way his damp shirt clung to his chest, how you could almost see some of the muscles hidden underneath as he huffed.

Ghost grabbed your wrists and positioned them properly, the contact making your skin tingle as you looked him in the eyes. He didn’t look away from you as he moved your fists to where they should be while his fingers grazed your knuckles.

“Legs apart.” He tapped your shoes with his and you did as he told as you tried to ignore the flip of your stomach from his words.

Damn your brain.

You took a deep breath, and though it did little to calm your nerves, you were able to at least go back to focusing on sparring with the man in front of you.

He threw the first punch again and before long you both were back into the rhythm you had. All previous thoughts were slowly leaving your mind, even when you both managed to touch each other, unable to regain that initial quickness.

Ghost threw you down on the mat no matter how many times you tried to knock him off balance. He wrapped his arm around your waist, holland you close for only a second before he slammed you down, causing you to let out a wheeze as you laid there catching your breath.

“You’re distracted.” He loomed over you and caught your attention. “You need to clear your mind.”

You heat creep onto your face and you found it hard to look him in the eye. Did he know what you were thinking about? How hard it was for you to clear your mind when he was touching you, when he was looking at you with desire in his dark eyes? As much as you hated it, him being in control of the sparring was enough to have you feeling a little weak in the knees as you slowly stood up.

Even worse, you were sure he was thinking the same thoughts you were. You wondered how he was able to stay focused if that was the truth but Ghost was always focused.

No weaknesses. Nothing out of his control.

You nodded but you were beyond doing what he said. There was no way to clear your mind, not when the heat traveled down between your legs as you thought about what he could do to get rid of it.

You shook the thoughts away. You couldn’t believe how inappropriate you were being towards Ghost, your superior. You had to keep reminding yourself that as you went back to sparring with him, trying your best to go back to your original goal of finally beating him.

He’s a rank above you. He’s your superior. It’s wrong, it would cost you both your jobs, he probably didn’t feel the same.

Oh, he touched you again.

Ghost managed to twist you around again but before you could face him again, he wrapped his legs around yours and pulled them out from under you. After you caught yourself from face planting, he grabbed your ankle and flipped you over before he pinned you down.

His knee was firmly planted on your inner thigh and he gripped your wrists tightly while pressing them into the mat. He hovered over you, his breath hitching in his throat when you both made eye contact and a deep sigh left his heavy chest. His eyes bounced around your face and he leaned just a little closer to you.

It would be easy to kiss him like this. You wondered what his lips felt like, if they were rough or soft, how they would feel against yours, against your neck or other places. You swallowed hard before you parted your lips at the thought of him worshiping you with his mouth in the ways that you wanted him to.

You had enough self control to not kiss him through the mask at this moment, but it was slowly waning away as you looked him in the eyes. You never realized how pretty his eyes were until now. You could look into them for as long as he’d let you and it still wouldn’t be enough.

His beauty only spurred on more thoughts and for the first time ever you wondered what he looked like beneath the mask.

Ghost tightened his hold on your wrists for just a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly, and something more than just desire slipped into them, something that made your chest warm up and made you settle into the mat beneath you.

“Looks like you lost again, sergeant.” He mumbled, his voice lower and softer than normal.

“Sergeant.” A reminder, you told yourself.

It was true, you did lose, yet you weren’t angry about it. You couldn’t muster up enough to make you want to push him off, to give some snarky comment and retreat with your shattered ego in your hands.

Ghost let off your wrists and it took everything in your power to not wrap your arms around his neck to keep him where he was. Instead, you watched him climb off of you and stood with his back partially to you, his fingers curling up into a fist for a few seconds while he turned his attention to the training room around you both.

You sat up, resting your hand on your knee as you decompressed from the intense training and emotions that had just ran through you. You weren’t sure if you could do anymore today, not when you were this unfocused.

Ghost caught your attention by offering you a hand that you eagerly took just so you could feel his skin against yours. He grabbed yours firmly and pulled you up with ease, his other hand coming to rest on your waist even after you had already balanced yourself.

You stared up at him expectantly but he moved away from you, his gaze going to somewhere else in the room.

“Good work, Quiet. We’re done.” He said and stepped back from you.

You nodded and stepped off the mat, making your way towards the exit while waving good-bye to the others on the way. You tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on your back as you gathered your things, pushing away the warmth that crept up the back of your neck.

After you grabbed your things, you glanced back just as you were about to leave and your stomach flipped when you saw that Ghost was still staring at you. You gave him one last wave before you left through the doors and it was like he could breathe again.

It took everything in Ghost to not follow you out of the training room. There were so many emotions running through him that it was impossible for him to do anything but stare at you like an idiot, the words to say anything completely gone from his tongue.

Whatever happened on the mat was dangerous for you both. Those feelings, the ones where he thought about how your skin would feel under his fingers, what you would look like as he slipped his hand between your thighs or when he pressed a kiss to your neck were dangerous. It was wrong of him to think of you in such a vulnerable and inappropriate way, to want to undress you and have you dig your nails into him enough to draw blood, but knowing that you were thinking the same made it worse.

He knew. He could see the way your eyes darkened from the similar thoughts and how you got all hot and bothered when you couldn’t shake them away.

He was lucky he had enough self control to stop those feelings from taking over, even though he desperately wanted to know what it was like to hold you against him in a very different way than he had before. Had he let them take control, he was sure you would’ve knocked him on the mat and exposed him, his feelings, his dirty thoughts.

Ghost had no weakness except when it came to you.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #ghost

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imaginelegends · 13 days ago

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ITS HIM

ITS LA PIETA

but seriously, I feel like this one screenshot encapsulates my... hesitations about season 2. because honestly... it's shaping up to be Mid, and I mean that in the traditional meaning of the word.

1. It's good, nothing to complain

2. No overly glaring problems - story hits all the plotpointa

3. It's not flawless - or the level of quality has not superceded its flaws

And its that third point that kinda really... Hammers it in

*insert picture of Jayce*

Look at the Viktor screenshot - look at the quote

"The reason for our failures in the commune"

WHAT FAILURES?!? WE SAW NO SUCH FAILURES!!!

What are you talking about failures??? Bc from where we stood, your commune is fucking excelling - happy content people everywhere. Its clean. It gets fucking sunlight. Its nice as hell. What FAILURES???

and thats the problem you see - bc Viktor went from reluctant jesus to full on Messiah to apparently The Bad Guy All Along - AND THERES VERY LITTLE CARRY THE CHARACTER FROM ONE PHASE TO THE NEXT

same with cait - oh we see the prison, we see the fictitious arrests, the way enforcers wage war on its own people who BTW still aint independent of piltover, who BTW remain under piltover's rule, who BTW for the most part are innocent people who have done nothing wrong aside from being born in the undercity

the gangs are gone bc they all hate topside - and thats the only thing

BUT HERES THE THING, we dont see Cait doing any of this... its her soldiers, the enforcers, but aside from her magnificent leap to the bottom in s1, shes actually back to the usual cait - when Jinx stopped sexually frustrating her, she regained her moral code

(and we're gonna have to talk about the missed opportunities between ambessa, jinx, and cait. let me tell you. ive been cocked the block)

suddenly s2 act2 cait seems more or less similar to beginning of s2 act1 cait - with her misgivings about martial law. WE DIDNT EVEN GET TO LUXURIATE IN CAIT BEING DRUNK OFF HER TYRANNICAL POWERS!! WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT!!!

give me MOTHER goddamn, where the fuck was that??? where is goddamn horny seduction of power? where is ambessa getting pussy enchanted bc cait would tap that at least once and ambessa is trying to be professional and as cait starts pulling away, the lesbian break up would have been AMAZING - caits betrayal bc she went back to Vi?!? hello????? DO YOU NOT SEE HOW FUCKING SIZZLING THIS COULD HAVE BEEN???????

dont fuck the warlord - dont sexualize the warlord - ONLY IF YOU WERE A COWARD

give me the seething, writhing pit of moral ambiguity thats hot as hell

bc otherwise it comes out perfunctory.

LIKE BACK TO VICKY

if vicky was supposed to be the bad guy, his little commune needed to be A LITTLE MORE creepy. SHOW US THE FAILURES. show us how the healing turns people WRONG. What does it mean if vicky gets his hands on you? SHOW US THE HORRIFIED LOVED ONES WHO UPON SURRENDERING THEIR DISABLED BELOVED FIND THEIR BELOVED IRREVOCABLY CHANGED IN A WAY THAT CAN NEVER BEEN UNDONE

SHOW US THE EXISTENTIAL LOVECRAFTIAN HORROR YOU FUCKS!!! This whole commune could have been fifteen hundred percent weirder and uncanny, make us feel like we're in a fishing boat in the middle of the lake and something massive just brushed under our boat. make us feel small and uncomprehending cucks.

I FELT NOTHING!!! I FELT LIKE WE WERE HITTING EACH STORY BEAT FOR THE SAKE OF THE PLOT POINT

it was all perfunctory as fuck. there was no lingering, stewing tension that just gnaws at your bones until you remember with each aching movement. there was NOTHING like that.

i couldnt bliss out on the jayvik messy breakup. i couldnt savor cait having a pussy rebound with a worse partner (we couldve gone from Lestat to Armand levels of bad decisions here)

we get Nothing

So Arcane gets ONE more act 3 to finish this off but honestly... it feels like each act is almost self contained in and of itself. and the buildup of viktor and the arcane feels thin - papery - wishy washy. Im not entirely confident that theyre gonna wrap up everything nicely.

ive already had ONE MASSIVE DISAPPOINTMENT THIS YEAR, please i cant have another so close to the last (iykyk)

#arcane spoilers #arcane #viktor #viktor arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #ambessa #ambessa medarda

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy - part 2

Summary: The Avengers of the Galaxy continue to bond.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I was trying something and this came out. I hope you like it, lol.

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Masterlist

It’s been a couple of days since the Guardians of the Galaxy landed on the Avengers compound’s lawn, Thor was still nowhere to be seen but you all seemed to be getting along just fine, going as far as having girls and boys night last night.

The guys showed Drax, Quill and Rocket how they like to spend a night of testosterone fueled competition while playing video games in the common room, eating junk food and drinking.

While you and the girls showed Gamora, Nebula and Mantis how you like to relax having a night of spa treatments, drinking wine and eating anything you wanted, gossiping and essentially making fun of the boys’ attitudes the guys had.

Groot started the night with the guys but apparently they started getting too rough and loud for his liking so he came to your room where all the girls were and enjoyed the rest of the night watching sappy movies and getting beauty treatments with you.

You couldn’t resist taking a picture when he wrapped himself with a napkin, rubbing some of the mud mask all over his face sloppily to look like you guys all wearing robes, making you all laugh and coo at how adorable he looked.

Everybody had a late night, barely getting any sleep, but having a lot of fun.

Now you’re all in the common room nursing various degrees of hangovers that even Bucky and Steve couldn’t escape after Tony pulled out Thor’s stash of Asgardian mead.

"All I’m saying is, aliens don’t seem to have too much regard for lawn maintenance." Tony says, making you all groan.

You were all tired of hearing him bitch about the lawn and you were definitely much too sleep deprived for it at the moment.

"Tony, I love you, but I really need you to shut the fuck up." Steve mumbles, not being used to hangovers, making us all gasp in surprise.

"Language, Rogers!" you say and he groans, throwing his head back while the rest of you laugh.

"Are you ever gonna drop that, Mrs Barnes?" you roll your eyes athim.

You and Bucky are nowhere near marriage but the blonde super soldier always has the time of his life teasing you about it.

"Aww, are you mad that I stole your boyfriend?" you fake pout at him.

"You know, Bucky and I were very happy before you came along." He fake glares at you, the rest of the team enjoying the banter they were used to at this point.

"I missed the part where that’s my problem, Captain Dumbass." You say smirking, but before Steve cam answer Quill cut in.

"Wow, she’s kind of awful when she’s hungover." you glare at him while everyone else laughs.

"She’s kind of awful when she’s not hungover, she’s just pretending for your benefit." Steve comments.

"You know what, Rogers?" Clint interrupts you before you can threaten Steve.

"Oh c’mon you know he’s right. Bucky for sure rubbed some of his grumpiness on you." you know they’re right so what’s the point in trying to deny.

You shrug ready to change the subject when Natasha chooses to contribute to the conversation.

"He definitely rubbed something on her." you almost choke on air.

"Natasha!" you hiss, struggling to keep your own face straight while all the girls start giggling.

"What? I didn’t say anything…" she says innocently and you can’t keep the laughter in anymore so you join them.

The guys all look at you like you’re crazy except for Tony, the genius playboy is definitely not as innocent as the rest of them.

"I don’t understand what’s going on." Peter says and the other guys nod in agreement.

You don’t exactly know how to explain it, not really wanting to discuss anything close to your sex life with Bucky with the whole group, so you look to the girls for help.

"It appears that terran women have rituals of honesty during their 'girls night's" Gamora offers, but it only leaves the guys even more confused, so Wanda takes it upon herself to say a simpler explanation "Girls talk about everything. Everything."

Slowly all the guys come to understand what she means, various degrees of embarrassment on their faces, while you and the girls laugh at their reactions.

"Wait, everything everything?" Tony questions, looking directly at Pepper.

"Every. Single. Thing." she says, maintaining eye contact, and the rest of you can't stop snickering at the guys’ dumbfounded faces.

While the guys continue their questioning to the other girls, Bucky leans in to whisper in your ear.

"So you’ve been telling the girls about our sex life, doll? I might have to punish you for that..." he can tell you’re trying hard to keep a straight face as you refuse to turn around to face him so he keeps teasing you.

"and you’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?" your eyes widen a bit before your expression goes back to neutral, but you're betrayed by the intense red your cheeks are turning, which does not go unnoticed.

"What’s wrong with you, why is your face all red?" Rocket almost yells, bringing the whole room’s attention on you, making you blush even more and giggle when Groot climbs on your shoulder to examine your cheek more closely.

"It’s nothing." you try to sound casual.

"And what’s wrong with you?" Rocket says and you hear Steve groaning before he answers.

He carefully chooses his words and addresses you and Bucky directly "Just so you know, I can hear Bucky whispering…"

your eyes snap up to him and you can see his face is turning red too, ever the innocent one and never ready to hear his best friend's dirty talk.

You look at Bucky who looks more amused at the situation than embarrassed and you let out a groan of your own before gettin up, Groot still on your shoulder.

"Where are you going, baby?" Bucky asks, stopping the others’ questioning of Steve about what he heard, all of them confused and amused, their attention back on you.

"I need more coffee. And a bath in holy water." you add looking at the girls, all of them knowing how dirty Bucky’s mouth can get, then you make your way to the kitchen.

"I’ll go make sure she’s alright." Bucky gets up and follows you, leaving the guys to try and make the girls let them in on the joke.

You put Groot down on the counter while starting the coffee machine and, while you wait, he makes you laugh by running around trying to catch a fly while making the most adorable little screams of battle.

You feel two arms wrap around your waist and Bucky’s head on your shoulder.

"You know Steve’s gonna think we’re fucking in the kitchen, right?" you say without looking away from Groot, making Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to check on you." he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You turn around in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I’m okay." you kiss him on the lips "Steve may be traumatized now, though." this time you laugh with him.

"Do you really tell the girls everything?" he asks when your laughter dies down.

"I do, they’re my best friends. Also the world should know you fuck me hard and good." he smirks and is about to kiss you again when you hear someone clear their throat from the door.

You both turn towards the sound and see Steve standing there, face getting redder than Tony’s suit.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." you groan once more, hiding your face in Bucky’s chest while he smirks at Steve.

"I just wanted some water, but I’ll come back later..." Steve says and starts to turn away, but turns back around and says "Bravo, Buc-"

"No! out!" you cut in before he can finish while pointing at him then the door and he goes through it laughing.

You look back up at Bucky and the cheeky idiot is laughing too, you try to glare at him but can’t keep a straight face, especially when a little yell suddenly reminds you that Groot is there with you.

You turn around just in time to see him jump down the counter, his little hands over what you assume are his ears, running back into the living room while screaming his little heart out.

Yep, looks like Steve is not the only innocent baby you and Bucky traumatized today.

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imtryingbuck · 19 days ago

Text

Ten

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n L/n becomes Queen of Astoria not that she wanted to. Prince James of Winterfeld meets her and falls in love.

Word count: 4,072

Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. mentions of beheading. mentions of death during childbirth. mention of suicide (jumping out of a window) mentions of murdering people. mentions of being a bastard(?)

Masterlist Series Masterlist

When the kings headless body fell to the ground with a heavy thud all of his remaining soldiers dropped their swords in surrender, and in hopes they would be speared, Y/n told them to collect their fallen men and go home as her own did the same. Just as they were getting ready to leave a horse galloped towards them, the rider removed his helmet before getting down.

Y/n’s lips puffed out when she came face to face with the son of the king she had just beheaded.

“Queen Y/n.” Placing his helmet under his arm, he shocked her by getting down on one knee. “A pointless war that you won gracefully, a war that I did not want nor a lot of the men. I must admit despite your beauty I did not want to marry you, my father was not happy that I also chose to marry for love and not for an alliance. I do not want wish for anymore conflict between our two kingdoms, two kingdoms that always had a friendship long before our fathers were born. I hope we can put this behind us and continue working together.”

“The woman that you love, have you asked for her hand?”

He looks shocked by her question but smiles and shakes his head. “Not yet, why?”

“Stand up.” He stands and gives Carlson a look of confusion. “When you marry, I would like to be invited. As you said today’s battle was pointless and like you I hope our kingdoms can go back to how they were.”

The prince now king bows his head and smiles at her, she returns the gesture, before walking up to Carlson and Bucky.

The dowager Queen watched alongside Larissa as Y/n’s armour was lifted off of her body showing the bloody clothes she had been wearing underneath, both women flinching when her clothes were taken off her showing the large dark bruises decorating her skin. The maesters examined her thoroughly - annoying her more than anything - before they were happy with themselves that all she had on her was bruises and not anything worse.

“Mother I have told you-“

“I do not care what you have said, you are my daughter. I worry about you.”

“I am twenty one years old now, you do not have to wash my hair!”

“Starlight.”

“Mother.”

“I am washing your hair and that is final.” Y/n pulls a face at Larissa causing her to giggle. “Did she just pull a face?” Pulling another face, one with her eyes crossed and her tongue sticking out, Larissa giggles once more.

“I have done no such thing mother.” She puts on the most innocent voice she can muster, she pulls another face.

“Starlight, you do realise that there is a mirror in front of you, do you not?”

Making eye contact with her mother through the mirror the face she was pulling drops. “Oh.” For the first time in such a long time her mum truly laugh, which causes her heart to flutter, she missed her mums laugh so much - it was so infectious that always caused her to laugh along when she was younger.

Finally getting out of the bath and dried, her mum along with Larissa helped her get dressed, both her mum and Larissa talking about the feast that was being held as celebration for the army coming home victorious.

“I am going to see Storm before the feast.” Y/n informed her mum.

“Please do not take long.”

“I will not, do not fret mother.” She winks at her mum as she leaves her chambers, rolling her eyes as her guards fall into step a few paces behind her - still not use to them following her around.

Rounding the corner to the stables her eyebrows furrow together at seeing her sister standing there with the stable boy, both standing there with their cheeks tinted red, both smiling bashfully at each other, both not realising that Y/n standing there with an amusing grin on her face - that was until she cleared her throat and startling the pair causing them to jump apart.

“Sis- My Grace.”

“Annalise. Liam.”

“My Q-Queen.”

“How is Storm?”

“He is well. There is no injury to him and I made his stall very comfortable for him.” Liam told her. He was often overlooked and belittled by those around him all because he had a stutter - but never when he spoke about horses - and wasn’t educated but Y/n didn’t care of those things, he was strong, smart when it came to horses, plus he was the only person other than herself and Carlson that she trusted with Storm.

“Has he eaten yet?”

Walking over to Storms stall she chuckles when Liam says. “I fear I have been spoiling him my Grace.”

“You always spoil him Liam.”

“I know.”

“Anna… why are you here?”

“I- well- I thought I would come and check up on the horses.” Annalise stuttered at first then sounded like she was trying to not only convince her sister but herself, she knew that her sister wasn’t stupid by any means though she hoped she wouldn’t humiliate her in front of Liam.

“Right…” Pressing a kiss to Storms nose she lets him go back to eating the sack full of carrots Liam had put into his stall, she turns and goes over to her younger sister. “I bet Liam appreciates your visits.” Raising her hand to her sister’s hair, she smiles and winks. “Be sure to get all the hay from your hair before you come inside so mother does not see.”

“I-I-“

Twirling a piece of hay that she removed from Annalise’s hair she chuckles, both Anna and Liam going bright red, Y/n winks at the two before leaving, only to stop at the doors to the stable. “Make sure you invite Liam to the feast.”

The music playing in the great hall was being drowned out by men retelling their story of the battle that was being dubbed as the pointless battle, stories of their heroics having those who wasn’t there hanging on to every word they heard. Y/n sat at the head table with Carlson to her right and Bucky to her left laughing at the tales they were hearing, some of the men dramatising their experiences having them sharing looks of humour.

“To our Warrior Queen!” Gus shouts standing on the table he holds his goblet up high, smiling as more men stood up doing the same.

The hall erupted in chanting. “To our Warrior Queen!” making Y/n blush from the attention.

Standing up she raises her own goblet and smiles. “To all of you. To all of our fallen men. To our victory.” As everyone cheers she winces whilst watching their ale slosh out of their cups and drench the ground.

As everyone got more drunk and fuller on the food that was on the tables, Y/n leaned further into Bucky’s seat - their hands holding each other.

“Want to go for a ride with me?” She chuckles and rolls her eyes as he chokes in his ale. “Do not be dirty!”

“I am sorry.” He chuckles. “You do mean a horse ride, right?”

“Yes!”

“Lead the way then.”

Of course the only people who notice them both leaving is Carlson, Larissa, Steve and Sam but none of them make any comments as the two left the great hall hand in hand.

They’re both silent as they go towards the stables, the cold air biting at their skin though neither makes a comment or the attempt to cover up, when Storm sees her his hoofs beat against the ground - his way of telling her that he was happy to see her.

“Hi my pretty boy.” She presses a kiss to his nose quickly before going over to Winter. “If you did not realise, she is yours now.”

“She is?”

“Yes. Plus she likes you. I have a new saddle being made for you.” She replied as she led Winter out of the stall.

“You do not have to do that for me.”

“Of course I do, you are to be my husband soon that is unless you do not want to mar-“ Bucky quickly cuts the rest of her words off by pressing his lips against hers. The thought of her thinking that he didn’t want to marry her caused his heart to ache, all he wanted was to marry her.

“You cannot get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

“Not yet.” She winked, her skin starts to tingle as he lets out the most infectious laughter, she makes a mental note to make him laugh more. “Let’s get these saddles on these babies so we can go.”

And they do, helping each other with the saddles Bucky helps her with her dress as she gets on top of Storm, Bucky had no idea where Y/n was taking him but he was happy to follow her wherever she would go, following her like a shadow. They were mostly silent as they traveled to the unknown location, as they began to slow down Bucky’s eyes widen at the scene.

A large rectangular pond that was big enough for three fountains to be placed inside, on either side of the pond were large marble statues of past kings and queens of Astoria, on each corner were lit lanterns high above making Bucky able to see everything clearly - he wondered who was lighting them at night until he saw the guards surrounding the peaceful garden.

“My Queen, my Prince.” One of the guards lowered his head as he greeted them.

“Hello, how are you?”

“I am well, how are you my Grace?”

“Good. I am well. You have had something to eat, right?”

As Y/n spoke with the guard Bucky’s attention went to the row of white roses to the side of him, as he looked around he noticed that there were rows and rows of the beautiful flowers surrounding the area. He ever so slightly ran his fingers across the soft white petal, he was so lost in thought he didn’t realise Y/n was standing behind him.

“My great-great-great grandfather had white roses planted here for his wife as they were her favourite flowers.”

Jumping slightly he made sure that he didn’t pull the petal off before turning his head to the side to look at her. “They are beautiful.”

“Come, I will introduce you to them.” Holding her hand out she smiled as he was quick to put his hand in hers. Leading him over to the first statue that was at the head of the pond, she looked up at them. “His name was Henry, she was Mary. Love at first sight, they said, according to the story is that Mary died on the birthing bed, a son was born. Henry was wrecked by grief that he handed his son to the maid and locked himself in the room with Mary, it is said that they could hear him talking to her and replying as if she was speaking to him, it took them a whole month for them to finally convince him to leave the room and for them to finally bury her.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at hearing the story, his heart broke for the king that was way before his time, he loved his wife so much that he didn’t want to leave her though she had left the world - leaving him and their baby son. He couldn’t imagine what or how he was feeling when the realisation hit him that he needed to let his wife go.

“He had a statue made of her, it was placed here as this was the place they first met - the place that she told him that she was with child. His Hand told him to marry so he could have more children but he refused, and as time went on he went mad as he always spoke to her even though she was no longer by his side, they soon gave him the nickname The Mad King. A week after his son turned eighteen Henry ended his life by throwing himself out of the window, the same window that was in the room where Mary had died, the same window that faces the pond. The first order his son made as king was for a statue of his father to be made and placed next to his mother.”

“That is…”

“A sad beautiful story.”

“Yes. Do you think that he did it to be with her?”

“I do.” Placing a kiss to the hand of Mary then of Henry’s she bowed her head. Bucky doing the same as soon as she moved away, following behind her when she moved to another statue. “It seems as if history repeated itself when Henry’s son, John, lost his wife on the birthing bed, a son was born and John became mad but this time he killed innocent people. He too jumped out of the window.”

“Why? Why did he kill people?”

“Nobody knows, some say that he wanted revenge but for what, I do not know.“

“What about others?”

“They never said other than that he was a king that should not have been.”

“Why?”

“What kind of king kills his own people? Whether or not he was wrecked with grief he should not have done that.”

Once again she kisses the hands of the statues before moving onto the next one, giving the story behind her relatives, each one more tragic than the rest it seemed. When she gets to her grandparents a small smile made its way to her lips.

“My grandmother was an orphan, born a bastard to a whore and a farmer, she was ten and my grandfather was twelve when they met. As soon as she turned fourteen he asked her hand in marriage which obviously was very scandalous - a prince falling in love with a lowborn, shocking.” She chuckled. “But he was the third born child so his father allowed him to do as he wished, my grandfather had just turned thirty when the kings guard came for him - bringing him back to the castle, two weeks later he was crowned king. The people knew of my grandmothers background yet did not care, they loved her as her main focus was for the townspeople, making sure that none were left to starve as those before her did.”

Wiping a fallen tear she smiled sadly. “My grandmother died before I was born, I was told that the people cried as her coffin went through the kingdom, for weeks everyone wore nothing but black only to be lining up to watch as my grandfathers coffin go by. They say he died of a broken heart which I believe.”

“Y/n…”

“People whisper that my family is cursed thanks to the king that should not have been, the whispers got louder when my father took the throne.”

“Why?”

“My father was not the oldest.”

“So why was he king?”

“My uncle stepped down from the throne, the people believe that he was too scared of the curse, but that was not true, my father wanted the throne because of the power that comes with it.” Casting a glance at the statue of her father Bucky swore he could see the hatred in her eyes. “He threatened my uncle, he told my uncle that he would have his wife and children killed if he went ahead with the coronation, my uncle loves his wife and children more than he loved the idea of being king so my father was crowned.”

“Where is your uncle now?”

“The king that never was, as the people call him, is a farmer. Last I saw him was when my father died, though he is old he still acts as if he is a child.” She chuckles before pressing a kiss to her grandparents statued hands and bowing. “You know my mother, her story is not tragic aside from her husband getting a second wife.”

“I notice that there is not a statue of your stepmother, why is that?”

“It is currently being made, my father did not want her to be in the family garden as he did not love her, though we did not see eye to eye she is the mother of my sisters so therefore she is my family.” She looks up at him and grins.

His lips instantly widen as he smiles at her. “What?”

“I am the Queen.”

“That you are.”

“Which means that my very own statue will be made.”

“Indeed.”

“You are to be my husband.”

“Which I cannot wait for.”

“Which means that a statue of you will be made and placed next to mine.”

Bucky chuckles and nods. “I suppose.”

“Do not fret sweetheart, I will make sure they capture your beauty.”

“Thank you, I was worrying for a moment there.” She laughs, stopping when an unattractive snort leaves her, even in the moonlight he can see her cheeks heat up in embarrassment but to him she had no reason to be embarrassed, she was the most perfect woman he had ever had the blessing to lay eyes on let alone know.

“I am sorry, that was not lady-“

“It was perfect, just as you are.” He gently cups her face with his hand and rests his forehead against hers. “But do remember that I will be bringing this up in the future.”

“You would not!” He presses a kiss to her forehead before walking away, putting his hands behind his back and he starts whistling, pretending to look at the rest of what the garden has to offer, forcing himself not to laugh as he hears her follow him repeating. “You would not.”

Dresses upon dresses covered her bed. Servants rushing around. Food being left untouched on the table. Her sisters were talking whilst helping each other with their hair. Her mother sat on the chair dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief watching her oldest daughter be helped with her wedding dress.

When all was finally ready they stood outside the chapel to wait for the doors to open, she took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled in hopes to get her heart beat to slow down - for the first time in her life she was scared.

Arm in arm with Carlson she walked slowly down the aisle to where Bucky was waiting, he was right in saying her dress was made fit only for a queen and that he would have the largest smile on his face… as well as tears glistening in his eyes.

Before she could even realise what was being said or done, they were being announced as man and wife. She beamed up at him before their lips touched in a passionate yet short kiss, the whole chapel erupting into cheers.

The people cheered and cried at seeing their Queen and King coming out of the chapel, throwing flowers along with shouting their prayers and wishes. Carlson watched from the side and had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at seeing the dazed look on his best friend, his queens face.

Y/n only seemed to snap out of it when Bucky stood and moved around the table with Steve and Sam coming up behind him, his hand resting on top of the handle of his sword he smiled softly at her and got down on his knee.

“I pledge my love and loyalty to you. Always. My Queen.”

Steve and Sam knelt down and in unison say: “I pledge my loyalty to you. Always. My Queen.” All three stand when she smiles and nods.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur, she does remember dancing with Bucky then Carlson, she remembers seeing Annalise dancing with Liam, her mum and Winnie dancing together whilst George danced with her youngest sister.

But most importantly she remembers smiling throughout the whole thing, slightly dreading the ache in her cheeks that awaits her tomorrow but it didn’t matter as she was now a married woman to a man she loves.

When it came time for the bedding ceremony, Larissa along with her mother and maids took her to her chambers, as they undressed her she could hear Bucky arguing with the maester outside - something along the lines of that no one would be witnessing their coupling. Even her mother went out to argue about it not taking place which she was ever grateful for.

When everyone left and Bucky came in it helped that she could see that he too was nervous for what was about to happen, he twisted his ring around his finger - the same ring she had placed on him only a few hours ago. “Y-your mother called me king. She scares me a little.”

“You are now the king, and why does she scare you?” She chuckled.

“Do- have you gotten used to be called queen?”

“No and I do not think I ever will.”

Taking a step forward he stops. “I am meant to be your prince consort.”

She does the same. “I am Queen and you are my husband.”

A playful smile on his lips as he takes another step forward. “But that is not how it is done.”

Doing as she did before, she copies him. “Whilst my sisters were learning what it is to be wives and how to do their jobs as women I was on the training ground fighting.”

Bucky squints his eyes as he steps closer to her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I have never done things correctly.” She says as she gets closer to him, the gap between them now smaller.

“I noticed but people will not be happy.”

“People were cheering our king meaning that they see you as you are. Their king.”

Bucky closes the small distance between the pair and smiles down at her. “As you say, my queen.”

“Now tell me why my mother scares you?”

“It was when she was telling the maester off, they were adamant of being in the room with us.”

“She knew I was nervous and promised me that she would make sure they would not be in here, I am sorry.”

Cupping her face with both of his hands he shakes his head. “Do not be sorry, I did not want them here either.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes dart between his to his lips, and lightly licks her own. “Do- should- I…”

“What is it, my love?”

“Should we… you know?” Gods she felt so stupid, she’s been on so many battle fields, she’s been struck by an arrow, she’s been slashed with swords and beaten, yet here she was stumbling over her words.

Rubbing his thumb across her cheek he smiles softly at her. “Only if you wish to.”

“I do!” She blurted blushing when he chuckles. “I mean I would like to.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, no, he dips his head closer to hers and kisses her, slowly at first as he was trying to savour the moment, smiling when she starts taking the lead - the kiss growing more heated. When he feels her tug at his clothes he instantly understands her silent words, without breaking the kiss he starts to undress himself, shivering slightly as her hand comes into contact with his bare chest, his stomach clenching as her hand starts to trail downwards.

Laying her down on the bed he stood in between her legs and stared down at her - grinning when she started to blush. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Both were wrapped in each other’s arms breathless as the smell of sex lingered in the air, Bucky traced invisible patterns on her bare skin as she played with the ring on his finger.

“Bucky?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Can we do that again?”

Bucky’s laugh bounced off the walls as she looked up at him with the most innocent eyes she could muster, and when she gives him the cutest pout he had ever seen, who was he to say no to his queen?

He felt slightly bad for those still awake in the castle as neither one of them made any attempt to conceal their moans.

Only slightly.

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mysteryshoptls · 1 year ago

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SSR Ace Trappola - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ace: Huuuh, so this museum's been open for 100 years, huh. It's got some pretty cool exhibits.

Ace: Tryin' to appreciate art just seems boring, and I totally thought bein' a supporter was not my bag, but I might be able to enjoy myself here after all.

Ace: ―Ooh, found me the painting of some card soldiers! Look at 'em, all cool the way they're standing at attention like that.

???: Mhm, their perfectly aligned call to attention is quite the spectacle.

Ace: Ah, hey, Lilia-senpai. You must have great taste to see the true quality of this painting here! Haha.

Ace: If the rank and file are in disarray, then it doesn't look good at all. They gotta be in perfect formation, especially when marching.

Lilia: That's correct. So, you understand what it means to march as they do… Not bad, kid.

Ace: Not that much. I mean, back in my dorm, we just have certain days that all the students are required to march in formation.

Lilia: Kufufu, I heard that practice for that begins as soon as you enter. I've heard many a classmate complaining about it here and there.

Ace: Yeaaaaah, I can see why they'd want to complain. It's not just the Housewarden; even our usually nice upperclassmen come down on us hard during the training.

Ace: The first time I had to march after joining the dorm was the worst. We definitely looked nothing like the card soldiers in this art piece.

Ace: When we looked at the video that Cater-senpai took for us, we could see that the first years' walking was ALL OVER THE PLACE.

Ace: Every one of 'em couldn't get their arms and legs up and moving properly, and they were all looking down. It was sooo lame. I couldn't even laugh at how bad it was.

Ace: By the by, I got praised pretty much right out the gate ♪ They all said that my spirit fully embodied the heart suit card soldiers.

Ace: It's easy for me to just copy what I see the upperclassmen are doing, or what the video's showing. I don't get why all the rest of them were havin' a bad time.

Lilia: OHO～～～?

Ace: Eh? What's with that grin? You're kinda giving me the creeps all of a sudden.

Lilia: How rude of you to call someone as cute as me creepy! But aren't you actually quite the diligent one.

Ace: DILIGENT!? I don't think that word suits me at all!?

Lilia: Not only did you follow the examples set by your upperclassmen, you also watched went further and watched the videos and practiced on your own… I'm seeing you in a whole new light, Ace.

Ace: Ahh, c'mon. Stop patting my head like that. It's not like I was trying to study for it or anything.

Ace: It woulda been a pain and pretty lame if I had to stay behind to practice. That's why I just wanted to get it done ASAP. That's all!

Lilia: It's nothing worth getting all worked up to deny.

Lilia: I think it's rather commendable that you put in the extra effort in order to seek what you think is "cool."

Ace: I'm not getting worked up…! Wait, I got a feeling that if I keep responding, he'll just keep stringing me along to tease me.

Ace: Uh, I'm gonna go to check out the cool-lookin' painting over there!

Lilia: Hey now, don't leave me behind. Kufufu, this must be that adolescence I've heard much about.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: Let me see, what cool painting were you talking about… Oho, it's of the King of Beasts. He looks oh so dignified, I can't help but find it charming.

Ace: Aaand he followed me… But yeah, I definitely agree that's he's pretty dignified.

Lilia: There are many legends swirling around the King of Beasts. Just from looking at this painting, I can't think of which scene they're trying to depict here.

Ace: Uhhh, based on this info they got plastered next to it…

Ace: Looks like… Oh, it's where he was talking about his vision for the country's future with his hyena retainers.

Ace: I actually really like the story of how the King of Beasts would always trust in his hyenas.

Ace: Oh yeah, and that one where he performed songs for his people!

Lilia: Mhm, that's a good one. He is a sophisticated king indeed to utilize singing to vow to improve his country.

Ace: Riiiiight～? Totally get why the hyenas were so excited that they were singing and dancing all through the night.

Ace: The King of Beasts looks pretty unapproachable from just a glance, but he must have had a ton of charisma.

Lilia: Well, he did have the power to move his people's hearts through song. If he had his due, perhaps he would have been able to sway the whole world with his song.

Ace: Totally. If I had lived during the same era, I would have loved to go and karaoke with him.

Lilia: Speaking of karaoke… I heard you and Sebek went for that.

Ace: Ah, did you hear that from Sebek? We went with Deuce and the two from Ramshackle…

Ace: Jack and Epel also tagged along. But maan, it was pretty insane.

Ace: So many of them were new to it, so I had to teach them everything, from how to choose a new song, to ordering food. You'd think they'd have common sense to figure out, but c'mon.

Ace: We literally couldn't sing a single song for the first 30 min or so, I was like, what did we even come here for!?

Lilia: Kufufu, now, now, you can't say that. I'm sure there's things you're not familiar with, too.

Ace: But c'mon～ …Well, I guess it was kinda fun to have a small competition using the karaoke's scoring system.

Lilia: So, you had a karaoke competition! I would love to tag along next time. So, who won?

Ace: Well, that's obvious… IT WAS YA BOY ACE-KUN HERE!

Ace: When I hit 100 points, everyone was lookin' up at me like idiots, all like, "you gotta be kidding!"

Ace: As a bit of a handicap, I chose of the recent viral songs and did the dance that went along with it, too～

Lilia: Oho, that's amazing that you can sing while moving your body without missing a beat.

Ace: I mean, unlike those guys, back in middle school I would go karaoke a lot.

Ace: And all those guys kept shouting that they'd practice singing so they could sing next time, but y'know…

Ace: There's actually a trick to getting the high score on that machine's scoring function. It's not enough to just be a good singer.

Ace: At this rate, I think I'll be taking home the win next time too ♪

Lilia: Kufufu, looks like even the ones who don't get to spend that much time together with you all had some fun, eh?

Ace: Well, I guess it wasn't too bad.

Ace: They'd choose stuff like old songs that were popular during my parent's heyday, or minor folk songs…

Ace: It was kinda neat that I heard a ton of songs that I normally wouldn't listen to. It was completely different to how it'd be if I was with my friends back home.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ace: This painting is of those eels that served the Sea Witch…

Lilia: Mhm. It's said that whenever they found merfolk in distress, they would encourage them to seek the guidance of the benevolent Sea Witch.

Ace: Huuh, they look kinda scary, but… Guess you can't judge a book by its cover.

Lilia: Speaking of… Ace, I heard you went a little viral on Magicam the other day.

Ace: Geh! So, you saw that post too…

Lilia: Kufufu, I took it all in.

Lilia: "This scary-looking young man in a flashy shirt was kind to a kid in this burger shop," it said.

Lilia: You did a good thing, Mister "Scary-Looking Young Man in a Flashy Shirt."

Ace: C'mon, can you not tease me!?

Ace: The comments section was going wild with stuff like, "I love that personality gap～" and "The scarier the person looks, the softer their heart is."

Ace: I definitely don't like people just deciding that I'm scary just from how I look, or just assuming that I'm nice.

Ace: More like, I think it was 'cause I was with all my basketball teammates that I ended up looking scary too.

Ace: And 'sides, that patterned shirt I was wearing wasn't even something I'd pick out on my own.

Ace: Floyd-senpai made me buy it sometime back, so I thought it'd be bad if I didn't wear it, that's all…

Lilia: Hm, guess it was a mistake of them to comment on your appearance, then. But it was true that you were nice to the kid, right?

Ace: Nope. I just was throwing something I didn't want at 'em!

Lilia: You gave them something you didn't want…? So how does that turn into being "kind" to the kind?

Ace: So, when my clubmates and me went to the burger shop down in town, we got a free card with our orders.

Ace: Something about how they were doing a collaboration campaign with a movie that was recently released.

Ace: I at least knew what the movie was, so I opened it up, but just as I was thinking to myself that I didn't really need a card, or anything…

Ace: This kid who was nearby just randomly started crying. Apparently they wanted a hero card, not a villain card.

Ace: That's why I just gave him the card I had. It just happened to be the one he wanted.

Ace: I was able to get rid of something I didn't want, and I didn't have to listen to the sound of crying in the background. Win-win, right?

Lilia: Well, when you explain it like that, it definitely no longer feels like a heartwarming story.

Ace: Riiight? But then all the folks on Magicam had to go and try to treat me like a nice guy. Everyone's been teasing me about that too…

Ace: In the end, even the Headmage got wind of the video and just wouldn't stop praising me, saying "This is a fantastic thing you've done!"

Ace: Maan, preconception can be a crazy thing. I bet if I was wearing my school uniform, it definitely wouldn't have taken off.

Ace: They say that it's not all about appearance, but I guess that first impression you get is still important.

Lilia: Kufufu, I bet if the parents of that child were to hear your true feelings about it, they'd be shocked.

Lilia: Well then, I think I'll go on to check out the other exhibits. Bye then, Ace.

Ace: Whew, Lilia-senpai just couldn't stop teasing, huh. Wellll, what should I go and look at next…? Hm?

Ace: Woah, it's a painting of a walrus and the oysters. Lookin' at it here, the walrus really looks like a proper gentleman.

Ace: I bet those oysters were also tricked by how the walrus looked. Can't help but feel sorry for them… Heh.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #lilia vanrouge #twst ace #twst lilia #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: riddle #mention: cater #mention: deuce #mention: jack #mention: floyd #mention: epel #mention: sebek #mention: grim #mention: yuu #mention: crowley

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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book 7 part 4 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7, PART 4 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

Usually I would put this in bullet points, but I have so many thoughts that I have to format it as paragraphs. (If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!)

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

LILIA'S SO DIFFERENT 🤡 His voice is deeper, and he speaks more gruffly. He definitely comes off as more combative and having disdain for humans. HE'S POPPING OFF ABOUT HOW BAD SILVER/SEBEK/GRIM ARE AT MAGIC??? Damn, what happened in the following years to make him change????

The contrast between current Lilia telling Silver "there's nothing left for me to teach you" and past Lilia being like, "there's nothing for me to teach you, are you trying to make fun of me?"

The human faction they're fighting at the moment are the Silver Owls!! There are also people who dress in iron (a metal which harms fae in irl mythology), I'm not sure if they are synonymous with the Silver Owls or not.

IHBFIOASBFIAADSI LORD, THE FAE SOLDIERS ARE ALL MIDDLE SCHOOL NEKO GIRLS HISSING AT US

AYO, SEBEK GRANDPA REVEAL????? ??? ? ? ????? BAL/BAAL/BAUL REAL, I CAN SEE WHERE SEBEK GETS HIS LOOKS AND HIS PERSONALITY FROM

Silver's asking to team up with Lilia and his group (Lilia was about to just leave them there because he's concerned with the Silver Owls setting up camp at the base of the mountain)? Bruh, book 1 we're calming down an angry classmate and book 7 is like, HEY KIDS LET'S TAKE A FIELD TRIP INTO AN ACTIVE WAR ZONE.

Silver's hoping to shock him awake via a fight, here comes a Sebek and Silver tag team battle!! RIP Lilia beats them up a little :v (Sebek. Don't fanboy over his strength, WE ARE FIGHTING FOR OUR LIVES HERE)

Oop, they disorient him with light and Lilia's mask off!! It's treated like a big reveal????? Sorry, but how does Yuu not notice this is Lilia automatically 😅

Lilia voice) you are not my son (and here you can hear Silver's heart breaking/j)

Oh boy, we get to be prisoners of war/j

NOT LILIA ASKING SILVER AND SEBEK HOW THEY KNOW HOW TO FIGHT SO WELL WHEN IT WAS LILIA WHO TRAINED THEM TO BEGIN WITH

"Fae don't go back on their word" AH SO THEY LIKE TO KEEP PROMISES EH

"May the night bless you" seems to be some kind of salute for nocturnal fae?

LOL Lilia's against being called a father OTL THE IRONY HERE IS SO STRONG

Not Sebek's grandpa telling them off for not showing Lilia respect and saying how great he is... Fanboy genes run in the family/j

DOES YUU STILL THINK THIS IS A PERIOD DRAMA OR SOMETHING

BAAL IS CALLING SEBEK A HUMAN KEK

BAL/BAAL/BAUL REAL DROPS THE CROC MASK???? ?? ?? ?? ? He's got SCALES instead of facial hair???? ???? ? ? Oh man, he reminds me so much of Seteth FE3H OTL The scales are a signature trait of the Zigvolt line! Sebek says his mom has the same scales.

NO NOT SEBEK HAVING TO CONFESS THAT HIS DAD BEING HUMAN, IS THIS THE START OF HIS CHARACTER ARC

LILIA TOLD BAAL TO BABYSIT US...

AW Sebek's so excited about seeing his grandpa in his prime... I'm happy seeing Sebek happy OTL

Lilia's dreaming about the past... I wonder if it's because he was thinking about his life and what he has achieved before leaving his loved ones with his legacy...

Lilia first got the invite to NRC 500 years ago??? So NRC has been around much longer than we expected.

Ahhhh, crap 🤡 The return of book 6 limited battles but now with a battle map. There is a new mechanic where HP carries over from each battle; if a card's HP gets knocked to 0, you cannot use them. (5 cards be restored at random if you get to a heart space on the battle map.)

SEBEK'S ACTING AS OUR OLD FAE SPEECH TRANSLATOR (He's throwing his own angry commentary in, which is hilarious)

The humans arrived on a boat ~100 years ago. Now they have a settlement in the east and are mining around Briar Valley + taking the fae's natural resources. (I think this is why Mystium, that shape-shifting magic green ore that Lilia's weapon is made of, is no longer as plentiful; it was likely mined into obscurity.)

Magical creatures are now coming down from the mountain and causing trouble in Briar villages; the fairies cannot handle all of this. Damn, this is just the plot to the first Shrek movie 😂 They're invading Shrek's swamp--

Oh, interesting! So there are different kinds of fae language (depending on the type of fae they are; think of the diurnal fae from Fairy Gala speaking in bell tinkles), but they infuse their voices with magic so they can understand one another. In modern Briar Valley, there is a common tongue. Omg, Sebek speaks it with his mom and grandma! BILINGUAL KING, HE'S SO PROUD OF HIMSELF... Silver tried to learn from Lilia, but he struggled with it; Sebek's dad had the same issue so the problem must be that human ears cannot pick up on the same range of sounds as fae ears can. This is true of real life as well; different creatures have different auditory thresholds and auditory detection ranges.

Bruh, not Lilia sending out literal children to fight for him on the battlefield...

Eh, new character named??? Some human soldiers are talking about Henrich?? Henrik??? Henric??? He's a commander of the Silver Owls who is conceited and dumps his work onto his subordinates. Errrr he apparently also has a little sister named Leia? Lea??? Leah???? Who is rumored to be in a relationship with someone called the Dawn Knight.

More interesting lore????? Kind of???? Some pixies (small fae) come and warn Lilia about something up ahead, then heal them too. This is notable since in Fairy Gala: What If, we learn that diurnal fae (which I believe pixies are) and nocturnal fae (which Lilia and Sebek appear to be) do not like each other. It seems they got along well enough in the past to confront a common enemy?

They reach a Silver Owl camp!! ... Aaand Lilia tells his soldiers to boot them out so they can take over the camp. I mean, it IS technically the fae's land to begin with, so. Uhhhh, yeah I think I'm with Lilia on this one 💦

I don't think iron affects fae negatively in Twisted Wonderland?? Lilia and co. are having no trouble fighting them even when the humans are clad in iron armor.

HMMMM they've named dropped a formidable person on the human side called the Dawn Knight (Lilia mentions them once, then the human soldiers do). The Dawn Knight is the captain of the Silver Owls and even Lilia considers them a strong opponent. Methinks they'll become a key player later...

OH NOOOO 😭 Sebek’s like, “let’s change this fate!!” but since it’s just a dream, reality won’t be altered at all… Then Sebek suggests just. Staying in the dream???? Which makes darkness spawn… The light from Silver’s ring thing (the trinket he got from Lilia as a sign that he is now a full fledged adult) protects them???

Silver fears the dream will tempt him to stay too 😭 He asks Yuu to snap him “awake” if it ever comes to that… Silver, sweet boy… OTL

NOT SILVER AND SEBEK JUMPING IN TO STOP LILIA FROM COOKING FOR THEM (Come to think of it, how have Lilia's soldiers survive this far with him cooking for them???? ?? ??? ?? ?? )

LILIA THINKING THEY'RE GOING TO POISON THEM, THAT'S SO JAMIL ENERGY

Omg... They're acknowledging their Master Chef training (this is the only time they've referenced events in the main story, if I recall correctly)... Silver even prepares a risotto for them all~ (His own favorite food is mushroom risotto, so I like to think of it as he's sharing a piece of himself with the fae.)

asldiuhaodasidba Lilia complaining about the tiny portions in fine dining...

SEBEK PREPARING A ROAST CHICKEN FOR THEM, they're going all out for this one meal??? ? ? ??? ? ?? Poor Sebek though 😭Baal refuses to eat anything Sebek made, he'd rather starve or eat rations than a human's cooking...

AW BAAL BOUGHT SEBEK BOOKS????? And encouraged his love for reading... 😭

Grim taking Baal's portion of food... (Of course... Did we really have any doubts about that?) Sebek really did get his attitude from Baal... Now Baal's going, "Gimme my food back!" after Grim started digging into it... And then Baal has three entire helpings of risotto... THEY HAVE THE SAME INTIMIDATING-YET-ALSO-PATHETIC VIBES

AYO SILHOUETTE FOR MALLEUS'S MOM????? Her name is (Princess) Mallenoa, the only daughter of Maleficia (Malleus's grandma). She lives at a separate palace and commands the military. Lilia also describes her as being extremely powerful, fickle, stubborn, selfish, and easy to anger. He's just tossing out allllllll the adjectives ahdbayodqdq

Ah, so it sounds like humans greatly outnumber the fae??? So they're at a disadvantage. Normally a royal would handle diplomatic stuff like this but for some reason Lilia is being sent? They're traveling on foot to deliver a message to the human encampment to the east; the last messenger (that travelled there via magic?) did not return. Ominous...

Fae nobility are repulsed by the smell of iron? I'm confused, are fae in TWST impacted by iron or not????

Aww, Silver... He's asking his dad to come to school not to learn, but to make special memories there 🥺 Back to "our Night Raven College"...

NOOO NOW THEY'RE FLASHING THROUGH ALL THE DORMS... while Silver and Sebek monologue about how everyone at NRC is very different, but despite how weird they all are, there is a lot that can be learned from their differences. Silver's spreading what he learned from his dad... and the fact that even Sebek pitched in... 😭

Lilia voice) let's make these high school students our pack mules and unpaid chefs and if they fuck up we leave them for dead in these woods where there are monsters lurking about

Man, he's so ruthless????? Lilia will use anyone he can to succeed in his mission... But then the next second he lays into his princess with a smile www

Lilia knew the princess since they were kids ~300 years ago, which puts the current conflict at ~400 years ago from modern day (since present Lilia is ~700 years old).

asdjbasbldbasdi Gotta love the lowkey jabs at classic fairy tales... Lilia says that human princesses may need protecting but not theirs???? (Yet Mallenoa still stays in her castle all day like she's waiting for a prince.)

THE PRINCESS HAS AN EGG... MALLEUS????? IS THAT YOU???? ???? ????? ? ?? ? ? (LOL at Sebek calling it Tamago-sama asghdyqovywqdwp9qbpacpasb) JAHAJAAH BAAL SUS OF THEM BEING INTERESTED IN THE EGG????

Oooh, so dragon eggs only hatch after receiving enough love and magic from the parents??? (Otherwise the egg will not mature and hatch.) The "power of love" is real, you guys 🥺

ANOTHER new character name drop?????? Levan/Revan??? It's a fae that went missing (probably the messenger from earlier??) I-Is that. Is that Malleus's dad???????? (Lilia says that both the princess and Levan/Revan have been pushing their tasks onto him; he has known them both for a long ass time.)

Baal voice) I still don't trust you

Fandom, back at Baal: Sorry (grand)daddy. Sorry. (Grand)daddy? Sorry. (Grand)daddy? Sorry.

Malleus is 178 years old in current day even though his egg existed 400 years ago, so it seems there was a few hundred years of delay before he actually hatched (normally the egg would hatch in 2-3 years). That means Lilia was ~522 when Malleus hatched and ~683 when he found Silver as a newborn (Malleus was ~161). Silver and Sebek think it’s weird that the timeline does not add up; it means Malleus was dormant for quite a while?? Or is the dream world wonky to accommodate for a “happy ending”? Or maybe the history they know is not correct (since earlier in book 7 Lilia mentions how true history can be distorted over time.)

Very sus, apparently there is not a lot known about Briar Valley's history??? Lilia never talked about the past around Silver, and Baal did the same with Sebek. None of the books Sebek read really goes into that history either. In current day, the palace where Malleus's mom resided isn't even there anymore, it's just land. It suddenly became a mystery...

MAN, I've been wondering this whole time why Lilia's happy ending is wartime but maybe. This is the period where Malleus's parents both died???? Maybe his happy ending is saving them??? Instead of them dying and him having to live with the guilt of not being there to protect his friends and his future prince's parents???? (I previously thought it was during war that Malleus hatched and/or Lilia found Silver, but I guess the timeline doesn't make sense there.)

According to Silver, they cannot stray too far from dreamers or else the darkness will return and try to drag them into a deeper sleep.

asdhbasdobasdbas Sebek is SUPER hype to see baby Tamago-sama Malleus...

Sebek points out that Silver is not nodding off (good catch, I actually did not notice this because I was too busy screaming about the lore); sooo when Silver is dream walking, he's consistently alert. It looks like Silver's narcolepsy is an important detail??? (Lilia took him to lots of doctors that didn't know how to help him, Silver does whatever he can to sleep well and to have a sleep schedule.)

OH MY GOD, I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT YUU AND GRIM STILL DIDN'T KNOW LILIA IS SILVER'S DAD. They thought it was a friendly nickname this entire time??? Kind of late to get to that, but alright 😅 We have acquired the Forbidden Knowledge... (SEBEK'S MOM IS WAY OLDER THAN HIS DAD BUT LOOKS WAY YOUNGER?? I mean, I kind of expected that but to have it confirmed just hits different.)

One of the soldiers tells the kids to stfu so they can sleep and so Sebek yells at everyone to stop disturbing them (you know, in his LOUD AS HECK voice).

Water in the Briar Country is cold because it is located up north (it snows a lot!). The lake water usually comes from melted snow. Checks out, I guess?

They're packing up to leave the camp... Reminds me of Mulan!

[Insert boring trek to the Silver Owls' base. Interesting tidbit: some soldiers we run into comment that Silver resembles the Dawn Knight/they didn't know the Dawn Knight had a lover?????? So... that's obviously gotta be an ancestor of Silver's, right??? Also??? The Dawn Knight apparently never removes their helmet, even around subordinates... VERY SUS, SIR

NAYUUURx NOT SeBEK CAViNG TO THE DATKNESS 😭 I feel like??? This is a really big character development moment for him?? He’s always been pretty blindly loyal to Malleus and hateful of humans, but this marks the first time he willingly does something against Malleus’s will and he calls Yuu and Grim by name… Sebek, sweetie… 😭 (Side note: Silver’s been so strong-willed through all of this, but I’m glad that TWST showed he isn’t perfect and infallible; he, too, was tempted to stay in the dream when Sebek started to consider it too.)

bchsheoxndle Something else I enjoy is Baul being so… tsun?? He complains about the kids but keeps an eye out for them anyway (and Sebek in particular)… The paternal vibes are too immaculate to completely squash 😎]

They made it!! Finally!!

UHHHHH THEY'RE FIGHTING A BIG MACHINE AND. LILIA INSTINCTIVELY BLOCKS SILVER?? (He’ll be fine, he’s in his prime 😌)

Oop, Heinrich and the Dawn Knight were supposed to be in the eastern base but they aren't??? Oh no, it looks like. It was a diversion?????? While Lilia and co. are busy at the base, Heinrich launched an attack on the palace where Malleus's mom is???????

AND OF CORUSE THAT'S WHERE WE CUT OFF?????????? BRUH.

OKAY, so this entire update was focused just on Lilia's dream. We have no clue what's happening in Idia's dream or the real world with Ortho??? Which I'm totally fine with; I feel like we learned SO much about Briar Valley's history and important figures in it. That's a very fair trade-off. I loved getting to learn about the conflict between humans and fae, fae culture, and about how Briar Valley (or Country) works. I'm surprised that the characters themselves know so little about the history, but that just makes me worried that that's because it's a dark part of history that was purposefully censored from the textbooks...

There were a lot of new characters introduced in this part, most of them just mentioned by name or silhouette. It really feels like we walked right into the most dire part of a history textbook... So much tragedy has been set up, so many key players put into place... But being that this is Lilia's promised happy ending, surely he must reverse fate and save the day in the end????? Right? Right??? ?????? ?? ??? ? ? ? ? ? ?????? I have my eyes glued to the Draconia family lore and history, I'm READY to absorb it!

Something else I found really fascinating was learning more about Sebek this update! He still has a very arrogant attitude about him (that much hasn't changed), but I loved seeing how he acts different around his grandfather and how excited he gets over little things like seeing Malleus's egg. I think this part also marks the start to his character arc; he is constantly put down time and time again by his grandpa, someone whom he really loves. Sebek is used to his grandpa accepting him for who he is, but now his grandpa is shouting hateful rhetoric and discriminating against him for being half human. It's the same ugly behavior that Sebek slings to other people, but now the shoe's on the other foot and HE'S the victim in these situations. It must no doubt be extremely uncomfortable for Sebek, but it's also forcing him into a situation where he has to look at his own bigotry head-on, and it gives him a chance to reevaluate himself. It's similar to how Vil had to challenge Epel's outdated gender views even when Epel kicked up a fuss every time Vil did. asdhbsaisdbabdil I'm just really invested in Sebek's character arc!!

I think there's a high probability we'll see all of the silhouetted figures in full in a future update, it's clear that we'll eventually be rushing back to check on Malleus's mom at some point. I'm super interested in seeing how Malleus's parents, the Dawn Knight, Lilia, Baal, and Henrik tie together. (And, of course, we NEED to check in with the Shrouds as well.)

I have heard people say that Henrik may be a reference to King Henry from the live action Maleficent? Then that means that the Dawn Knight may be TWST's equivalent to Stefan/Stephan (Aurora's dad) and Henrik/Henric's little sister is Leah/Leia (Aurora's mom)??? Then I've heard other theories that since Malleus's dad vanished, we have no corpse to confirm he is for real dead and maybe he's actually Crowley who went off to buy some milk and never came back???? (Because “Levan” sounds like “raven” and you know who else is a black bird? CROWLEY. Is he. Is he really going to be the Ultimate Absentee Dad by pulling off his mask in front of Malleus and go, “Luke, I am your father” at him????) And then there's those of us who are drooling over new character designs and screaming about how hot Sebek's grandpappy is. Point is, there are so many wild parallels, theories, ideas, and thirst posts flying around right now. I love how this wild update reinvigorated the whole fandom into a new period of theory crafting and other creative works. asdhabsdasdbasdi Every new book 7 update gets more and more hype... I just hope we get part 5 in July!!! Super intrigued by the history of the Briar Valley~

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