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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 years ago

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Male Selkie: Jaemos

Anon ask: Could you write a love/lemon story about a lonely 17 year old who goes to the ocean to shed seven tears into the sea in hopes to summon a male selkie? And perhaps you could have the selkie be named Jaemos or Robert. As for looks the selkie should have a fair complexion, sparkly hazel eyes, and gorgeous curly brown hair. Tysm. ;)

I would feel uncomfortable writing a lemon since the reader would be under 18, but I will probs write another part to this soon.

Warnings: some language

Male monster x GN Reader

Seven Tears to Shed

It seemed easy enough, but it appeared ridiculous. But in the end, what more could you lose?

The water waded through you, swaying and parting as you got deeper into the lake of sapphire. Hopping into your small boat and sailing out, you appreciated the weather being so calm – thank God – with few to no ripples that swayed the boat you sat on the further you got out. You didn’t want to be dealing with nausea if the boat was swaying from bad weather, so that was something to be thankful for.

Would this work though? You held your scepticism, unveiling the crude crumpled note from your jeans pocket, the scribbles of jotted notes you had taken that you had copied so plainly. Seven tears to shed to gain another. The fable was spread from fisherman wives than to book and to social media; some holding the theories that it worked compared to some who thought of it as nothing more than a hoax.

But you liked to think of yourself as someone who expected so much but only got so far for disappointment, knowing full well that this would not go so well.

You looked to the jotted down instructions, each numbered with your own notes added to help your thoughts. Now, the easier part was done, the hardest was getting into the mood to cry. Easier said than done. You snorted, looking over the calm water, seeing the glum figure you couldn’t recognise staring back up at you.

Number one: Someone you once loved.

You snorted unflattering in the cold air to yourself, “This is ridiculous.”

But the ridiculousness of it all would help. Someone you once loved, simple: your crush of Jeremy Miller in the 7th grade. Popular, smart, blond hair and blue-eyed, he was the golden child, not a jock like all the other boys your age, Jeremy was well known for his love for acting. You had only shared a conversation with him maybe once, and that had been by accident, but you and your naïve mind looked way into his simple word of kindness for someone like you. But that crush died and crumbled like ash to the ground when you found out that your secret crush on him had been spread thanks to your cheerleader Eloise got hold of your diary, choosing to tell everyone and him. He turned out to be just as much as a dickhead as she had been, and for the rest of the year, you chose to hide along the school walls, the standing joke everyone looked for.

That first tear had come easier than you had expected: the anger helped especially. It ran down your cheek and slipped into the water with little force to break the surface, disappearing. So long, fucker. You anger dissipated before moving on.

Number two: Someone you lost.

This was more sentimental to you, and upon seeing the way how your handwriting became illegible, shaky to the end of the line, it told you it would be rather difficult. You clasped the side of the boat with an unsettling exhale, the one person that only came to mind was your grandmother you had lost a few years ago. Old age had taken her but it had taken her away so beautifully, bringing her to join the nature you were surrounded by now. You could feel her no matter where you went, a twirl of the breeze in your hair, a canary’s singing when your window was open, you knew she was always there.

The second tear was followed with a cry that resounded in your chest, too close to your heart, and took some time to finally calm. The water rippled with its decent to guide your tear gently, engulfing it smoothly. You wiped the back of your red wet face with the back of your sleeve, telling yourself to resume before you got too caught in the moment.

Number three and four were similar, both requiring you to of lost something but for you to gain it once again. In the end, it didn’t matter whether that thing was personal to you, you had to say goodbye to it. You had lost the happiness you once felt as a child, but to the benefit of it all, you resided to your privacy by drawing. It wasn’t much, but it helped keep bad thoughts away on some days, allowing you to do what you loved best.

Number five was someone you missed the most in your life, and although the memories stung like the previous tears, the face that stuck was your best friend at the time, Jade. And although the good times could be seen, it didn’t hide the stuck up and two-sided personality she wielded, using you for her own gain. In the end, the friendship ended with much more ease than sorrow. But seven years’ worth of torment could get anyone relieved for it to be over, and so those tears were in her farewell.

Number six and seven had arrived with little to no faith you held in how it would end. Proving that maybe after all that crying, it would be pointless. You sighed heavily, reading over the last two, drawling the right thoughts.

Number six: Yourself

Though there were many things you loathed of yourself, you didn’t want others to feel sympathetic to your story, nor other the fact that you were indeed lonely. Your story was long and convoluted, but you wished someone was good and decent enough to read it from the beginning. This farewell for your own loneliness was the one you wished to see gone the quickest.

All these tears: one for anger, two for loss, two for relief, one in farewell whilst the last was for a new beginning. It could be anything you wanted, wished or craved for – but better beginnings sounded all too promising.

Number seven: A final wish

“I wish… I just wish for someone patient to listen, not to question, but let me feel something.” You said aloud, finally ripping at the paper as you scattered it to the wind, allowing that final droplet to run down your cheek.

You weren’t expecting instant miracles and in those seconds of having said your wants and crying away the past, you listened to the rush of water surging closer to your boat, and at that moment when you opened them, you were surprised with a little visitor.

The fur of the seal was plump and grey, silvery in contrast to the murky waters as it twirled and moved closer to your boat, its wide black eyes staring up into yours as it made eye contact with you as it continued to travel, passing by you and coming up behind the boat, where you believed it would disappear on with its journey.

You snorted to yourself, “I’m losing it. I can’t believe I was talking to a seal.”

“Correct, but I suppose that’s what people like to believe.” A sudden voice was so clear as rain, smooth and whimsical startled you so that you almost rocked off the side of your boat, coming from behind you. “These waters have never been so calm, heh, though… it’s not every day someone comes to shed their seven tears.”

This couldn’t be true… you were in the middle of a lake, yet you were certain you could hear a clear voice almost next to you. “Who’s there?” Your confusion and worry were evident in your tone, where the voice - clearly male - replied, “You could call me what you want, but I would like to call myself your listener.”

“That’s bullshit—you must’ve followed me… there’s no way you could’ve magically appeared… unless,” then it hit you. The grey seal, following along the side of your boat when you cried your final tear, moving behind the boat. No-

You turned to peer over the edge of your boat with some hesitancy, believing all you would see would be a small adorable seal, when in fact you were totally wrong. The first thing that came into your sight was the blinding porcelain white skin that seemed almost blinding in the deep waters. They were drenched, with only their mop of wet curly brown hair on show, and wide hazel eyes that seemed to almost sparkle in the water’s surface. This man was too beautiful to be anything but your saviour. No, maybe a swimmer coming through or just a weird dude who was creeping on a 17-year-old-

“You seem lost, dear,” the handsome male stretched up until more of his bare torso was out from the water. “Penny for your thoughts?”

This person could’ve been a madman, preying on young people like you, and you were out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to defend yourself with. That’s what you should’ve been thinking, but your mind only came to think of one thing at that moment.

“You’re a seal?”

“A selkie, your people usually call me, though it’s not every day I’m called that.” The male laughed, supporting himself so casually by propping his lithe arms against your boat. “Any other questions?”

You shook your head in disbelief, trying to gauge at what you were really believing. Was your head that mad that you were imagining a completely different creature to you? “Were you listening to me? Listening to me cry?”

“As creepy as it seems, to shed seven tears grants you the final everlasting wish you so dream for,” the selkie replied. “You wished for someone – a friend – perhaps, and well… here I am.”

“So, you listen to everyone crying and you grant wishes? Do you grant the same wishes to everyone?”

“Not quite,” he laughed. “Everyone has different wishes, and so did you, but I just so happen to give the perfect gift of all.”

You titled your head, eyebrows raised incredulously, “Yourself?”

“My power does not lie between what I allow and grant, but… I thought I would allow myself to help with your certain request.”

There was an awkward pause that waved itself in the air between the two of you. “So, you’re like my friend or something?”

“I’m a protector, whatever you wished for, so a listener,” there was a loud thud that resonated within the boat, and when you looked, he had thrown something thick like a grey blanket in, sopping wet. “That there is yours to keep.”

“What—your skin?”

“You don’t know many things about selkies, do you, dear?” He laughed, pointing to the pelt. “When a human catches a selkie and keeps its pelt, the selkie cannot transform or return to the water. So, forever more until you get bored of me, I am forever bound to you.”

You snorted out in disbelief, “No, you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot lie, I tell the truth as we speak.” This man-

“No, listen, I’m 17. What are my parents going to say when I return with some naked stranger who I found in a lake? They’ll think I’m insane, more so than already!” I can’t be this guy’s carer, I can barely even look after myself.

“Hey,” the selkie’s voice was calm yet cheerful when he brought you out of your freak-out. “We’ll get through this together. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind me looking after you.” If only you knew my parents. You dreaded, before finally coming up with an idea.

“I cannot keep your pelt.”

The pale male’s face had dropped suddenly at the drastic sombreness of your words, his eyes turned downcast. “Oh, right.” He went to let go of the boat’s side but you were quicker to grab his hand, making him turn back to you with surprise. “No, what I mean is, for the safety of both of us, you can stay here. Where you’re at home, and I can come to visit, since if you are to be my listener, we need to make sure you’re comfortable too, right?”

He wanted to reply to you, his mouth opening and shutting but finally, he said, “I guess. But, you must promise. If we are to be friends, we must trust each other. I am certain on my word, are you?”

You still couldn’t believe everything that today had thrown at you, let alone you were wanting to agree, but you were too curious for your own good. “Yeah, sure. I promise.”

He beamed a white smile back at you again, your chest rising and falling as something warm replaced what was usually so empty, fading again before you could realise. It was… nice.

“What’s your name then, Mr seal?”

The selkie was halfway through putting back on the seal pelt, melding seamlessly with his human body as if he was zipping up a costume without needing a zipper. It looked comical to you, but it was still amazing to witness.

“Jaemos, or Robert, though that was thanks to some little girl deciding to call me that one time,” he laughed to himself, his teeth just as white as his skin. His bright eyes looked back into yours once more. “Whatever is easier to remember.”

“Jaemos it is then since it was the first option.” You smiled softly, grabbing at the ores to begin your way back to the shore before you looked back on him. “Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, could you lend me a flipper to push me back to shore?”

“You would never be too much trouble, dear,” he replied, lifting himself onto the side you were on so suddenly, almost like he was throwing himself in the boat, before affectionately twisting a piece of your hair behind your ear, laughing when he saw your beet-red cheeks warm. “That’s something troubled people would say.”

#male selkie #male monster x reader #gn reader #selkie boyfriend #male monster x gn reader #merman x human reader #exophilia #monster exophilia #modern au #selkie exophilia #anon ask #monster requests #selkie #my writing

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house-of-galathynius · 3 years ago

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Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

@jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @tomtenadia @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival

Chapter Fifteen ~ Bridges

Chapter Fourteen ~ Chapter Sixteen

The air was cold and the snow whipped around Aelin’s face as she made her way through the forest to the gate that lead to the city. She had debated using her old shortcut across the river, but it had felt too much like old habits.

Rowan walked by her side, his body a solid presence beside her. He had not said a word since they had left, she had figured it was nothing to do with her but more to do with seeing Sam — who had not made a good first impression on the fae male.

Their footsteps crunched in the snow and Aelin was thankful for her flame in times like these. Rowan seemed unfazed by the cold wind that blew around them— she supposed with his ice magic he was used to it.

The gate had been left open, the wind banging it against the post. Rowan held it open for her and she slipped through. Rowan was a couple of steps behind her but she could feel his gaze on her. She twirled round and stopped.

“You don’t have to do this. I can go alone.”

He shook his head. “You’re not going alone.” He stepped around her and continued towards Orynth.

Aelin jogged to catch up with him, pushing her hair from her face. “Nothing will happen. He’s not going to do anything. I can also protect myself.”

“I’m not worried about that. I know you can protect yourself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then why are you coming? Sam is going to think—“ She paused.

“What?” Rowan stopped in his tracks.

“You’re jealous.” Aelin made her way to stand in front of him. “You don’t want me to be alone with Sam.”

“Can I not just accompany my mate somewhere without being questioned?”

Aelin laughed. “Of course. But you don’t have to lie to me, I actually find it sweet.”

He glared at her. “It’s not sweet and I’m not here because I’m jealous.”

Aelin began walking ahead. “Whatever you say, Rowan.”

He growled and grasped her arm to spin her around. “I’m not jealous. I just can’t stand the thought of you alone with him after how he made you feel and what he said.”

Aelin tried not to smile at his protectiveness.

“I don’t know why you look so happy about this.”

She nudged his side. “Because I kind of like protective Rowan, it’s a new side to you.” Aelin wrapped her arm through his own. “But you don’t have to feel worried about Sam, he’s harmless. Our romantic ship has sailed and what he said to me… it was probably warranted — considering everything.”

He let out a hmph but held her closer. “I still don’t like how he spoke to you. And I know nothing romantic is going on, but if it was me going to see someone I had been intimate with, would you be totally okay with it?”

Aelin didn’t have a response to that. He was right. She hated the thought of Rowan being with anyone else, or even being in the same room as a woman he had bedded before.

“We’ve only been mated for a few weeks Aelin, the first years can be volatile for a male. So you have to be patient with me.”

Aelin didn’t respond. Houses and small shops started to line the streets as they made their way further into Orynth. The snow was heavier than before, the flakes settling on the cobbled path, the sky dark with clouds.

“Maybe you should wait outside whilst I go in.”

They had stopped outside of the library, the familiar oak door, the sign above, it felt odd to be here during the day— Aelin had been so used to sneaking here in the dead of night, praying that no one would spot her as she crept through the streets of Orynth. Aelin tried not to dwell on the wave of sorrow that went through her. She hadn’t realised she missed it as much as she did. Sam knew her as well as anyone, and she hadn’t realised she missed talking and laughing with him. She lost a friend in the process and it tore at her. She stared at the door a moment longer before turning herself to Rowan.

“I won’t be long.” She raised herself onto her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on Rowan’s mouth. “I love you.”

Rowan’s lips lingered on hers a moment longer before he pulled away.

It was still early in the day and she knew the library would be quiet for a while longer. She hesitated slightly before stepping inside and she sighed at the familiar scent of old books, she took a moment to take it in. It was still one her favourite smells, it felt like a warm embrace.

She couldn’t see anyone inside, the towering bookshelves obscured most of the space; the dark wooden shelves reaching almost to the ceiling, ladders lining those same shelves. It felt like years since she had been here, but it had been less than two months, the thought was jarring— it had been so little time since she had been here… and yet how fast things had changed.

She heard the shuffling of feet somewhere further into the library and her heart began beating faster, her palms becoming sweaty as she anticipated the meeting.

She hadn’t forgotten the last time they had spoken. The way he had looked at her, grovelling on the floor, Aelin begging him not to walk away, the look of utter disgust in his eyes. His parting words to her still stung, and yet there was a sense of anticipation in seeing him again. She took in a long breath and continued forward, stopping when Sam’s figure emerged from an aisle, his face obscured in the shadows. He didn’t see her straight away, his hands full of books as he scanned a different shelf.

She hesitated momentarily.

“Hey, Sam.”

He stilled, his head turning to observe her. His hair was messy and she could see small clumps of dust from where he’d been digging through piles of old books. She stepped closer to him, giving him a small smile as she did.

“Do you have time to talk?” She brushed her hand down the spine of a book as she spoke.

Sam paused before placing the books on the trolley that had been sat to the side of him.

“It won’t take long, but it’s important.”

He looked out behind her, his eyes narrowing at what he saw outside. She turned to look as well. Rowan stood with his arms crossed against the pillar, his eyes locked on Sam.

Sam cleared his throat once. “Have you come to finish what Aedion started?”

Aelin felt her shoulders drop. “Of course not. I actually need your help.”

He turned to walk away, Aelin trailing behind him.

“I’m busy.”

She scoffed. “You look it.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t feel inclined to come to your rescue Aelin. Everything considered, I think I’m being polite.”

Aelin caught his wrist before he walked away again. “Please Sam. Just five minutes.”

He brought his other hand to where she held his wrist and pried her hand off, shoving it away. “I said no. Please just go.”

“Sam…”

“I said get out.” His voice rose as he spoke. His hand shaking slightly as he pointed to the door. “I don’t want to ever see you again, do you understand? Get out of my Gods-damned store and don’t ever think of coming here again.”

The sound of the shop bell rang out in the quiet and heavy footsteps followed.

“You dare speak to her like that?” Aelin didn’t have time to stop Rowan as he stormed toward Sam. “I’ve told you once before and I will say it again. Watch how you speak to your future queen.”

“Rowan.” Aelin hissed.

“So you came to rub it in my face?” Sam scoffed. “I never took you as the type to do such a thing. But I guess there were a lot of things I was wrong about with you.”

Rowan let out a growl. “You are out of line.”

Aelin tried to shove Rowan away, but he stayed firmly where he was. His eyes never leaving Sam’s.

“Sam listen to me. It’s Lysandra.” Sam briefly looked to her, his brows rising slightly. “She’s the one that needs your help. But she couldn’t be here to ask herself.”

Sam backed off slightly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. “Send your guard dog home and I’ll consider listening to what you have to say.”

Aelin glanced at Rowan, giving a brief nod of her head. She wasn’t in danger, and having Rowan here was making everyone more tense than necessary.

“I won’t be far.”

Sam gave a sarcastic smile. “I’m sure you won’t.”

Aelin gave Rowan another weary look, trying to hasten his exit. When the door slammed closed she let out a breath. She could see Sam assessing the situation once more, he watched intently as Rowan walked down the street and then disappearing into the alley.

“Can we sit?” Aelin asked hopefully.

“No. You can talk to me here.”

Aelin let out a huff and found a stool to perch on anyway whilst Sam stood leaning against a wall, his arms crossed and looking anywhere but at her. She didn’t have the energy to argue with him— it was not why she had come.

“Why does Lysandra need help?”

Aelin hesitated slightly before coming out with it. “She’s pregnant. And she doesn’t want anyone in the palace knowing about it, and there’s nowhere else she can go where it can be kept a secret.”

“And why would it be any better here? Surely the same problems arise no matter where she goes.” He shifted his arms to his side and stood up straighter. “Can’t she just marry whoever the father is?”

Aelin shrugged. “Maybe. But you know Lysandra, she doesn’t want to burden anyone and I don’t think she feels like she is good enough for them.”

Sam gave her a curious look. “Who’s the father, Aelin?”

“I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you. But Aedion is the father.”

Sam let out a short laugh. “Not a surprise at all.” He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, stretching out his legs. “I don’t see why they couldn’t just get married. Lysandra is basically your sister, everyone loves her.”

“Not everyone loves her. There are a lot of people who would be opposed to the marriage— especially now…” She trailed off, not sure how to continue.

“You can say it.”

She thought for a moment. “Especially now that I can be of no use to marry for an alliance. A lot of the lords are hoping Aedion will marry a foreign princess and make alliances instead. Convincing them to give Aedion and Lysandra their blessing will be hard.”

“I still fail to see where I come into this.”

“Lysandra just wants somewhere to lay low for a while. But we need her to be within reach of healers and we need to be able to see her without suspicion… and you were the best idea we came up with. Or actually, the best idea Rowan came up with.”

Sam shook his head. “He probably just wants to keep a closer eye on me. Make sure I don’t start moving in on you.”

Aelin couldn’t help the redness in her cheeks. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re too good of a man to try and steal someone away.”

“Or not enough of a man to keep them in the first place.”

Aelin was silent for a moment. “You know that’s not true.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t have you anymore, so I’d say it is.”

“You were the last person I wanted to hurt.” Her voice somber.

He shrugged. “I think we both knew things were coming to an end anyway. I couldn’t be what you needed. I was making you give up too much to be with me, and it was unfair to do that.”

Aelin slid off the stool and onto the floor next to him. “You have no idea how much I wanted the life you told me about. To travel the world and have a family, live on a little farm with our animals, living completely free. I wanted it all.” She played with the hem of her sleeves. “I had so many arguments with my parents about not wanting to be the heir, begging them to give it to Aedion or to Elide. I was so in love with you, Sam, and it pains me that I couldn’t give you the life you wanted either.” She glanced to the side, Sam was already staring back at her. His eyes turning watery. “I wanted to tell you about Rowan. I had planned a whole speech and was going to explain everything to you.”

He wiped at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to be so cruel that night. I was angry because I’d foolishly thought I could come to you and convince you that we were it, that it didn’t matter about ranks or thrones or any of that— I was going to try and sweep you off your feet and hope you would change your mind.” Sam closed his eyes, rubbing a hand down his face. “I think we were doomed from the start, weren’t we?”

She gave him a half smile. “Maybe,” she leant forward. “But if I could go back… I would never change any of it. You made me very happy Sam, and I will be grateful that I was able to be loved by you.”

Sam looked at her then, studying her face for a moment. “It was an honour to be loved by you, too. It really was.” He smiled at her, a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time. “He better treat you right. Or I’ll have no choice but to beat him.”

Aelin laughed, a deep hearty laugh. “He’s certainly no match for you Sam.”

Sam laughed too and the two of them laughed together, just like they had before. And when they managed their composure, their laughs giving way to silence, Sam stood and offered his hand to Aelin; she took it gladly, savouring the touch, remembering the feel of his hand in hers.

“Lysandra can stay here for as long as she likes. You and Aedion are welcome to visit whenever you want. But maybe you can leave Rowan behind… I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.”

Aelin nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Sam.” She didn’t give him time to stop her as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Nuzzling her head into his neck like she used to, breathing in his scent. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”

Sam wrapped his arms around her, squeezing gently. “I would do anything for you, Aelin.”

She pulled away. “I know. And if there’s ever anything you need…”

Sam smiled in reply. “I guess you better get going,” he nodded in the vague direction of Rowan. “Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Aelin snorted. “I’m sure he’ll survive.”

“Should I expect Lys this evening?”

“She’ll be here before dinner I imagine. I’ll stop by tomorrow and let you know the details of what will happen.” She paused before the door. “You just have to say the word and we’ll figure something else out. I know this is a huge imposition on you.”

Sam just shook his head. “It’s fine. It’ll be nice to have some company around here for once.”

Aelin pulled the door open and the cold winter air wrapped itself around her. The snow was falling faster and the streets were covered in a thick blanket of white now. “I’ll see you soon.” She lifted a hand in farewell and stepped into the frigid winter air.

She paused a moment, composing herself before finding Rowan. She was relieved that Sam was okay. That he wasn’t angry at her, and that they were able to be civil. Perhaps in time they’d find their way back to friends— but she wouldn’t push it.

She found Rowan waiting in an alley a couple of streets down from the library. She had followed his scent, finding him leaning against a brick wall, inspecting a dagger she had not realised he had been carrying.

“I hope you put that away when people come past.”

He twirled the dagger between his fingers before slipping it into the inside of his jacket. “I know how to behave in front of people, Aelin.” He pushed off the wall and ran his gaze over her. “You’re okay?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “I told you he wouldn’t hurt me.” She still slipped her hand into his own and pulled them toward the street. “Everything is fine. Lysandra can stay there as long as she likes. I’ll inform my healer that she’ll be needing to make a trip into the city every couple of weeks, and come up with something to tell Orlon and the other court members.”

Rowan looked skeptical. “This plan works fine until she actually has the child. How do you explain then?”

“By the time she has the baby we will have thought of something. Perhaps they’ll get married and then it won’t be a problem.”

“I thought you said the lords would never approve a marriage between them?”

“I can be quite persuasive.”

Rowan didn’t say anything as they walked through the streets of Orynth. Aelin stopped at one shop to pick up Lysandra’s favourite chocolates and snuck some for herself into the purchase.

The streets were quiet as they meandered through. The snow enough to keep people away and inside their homes, huddling by the fires, if the smoke from the chimneys was anything to go by.

Just as they were reaching the edge of the city, Rowan let go of her hand and exclaimed there was something he had to do, telling her to go ahead and he would see her at the palace. Aelin had narrowed her eyes at him and reluctantly agreed. Giving him a chaste kiss before returning.

Even with her flame she was thankful for the warmth of the palace. The hallways were cast in a soft orange glow, the curtains drawn to reduce the cold that seeped in through the windows. The halls were unusually empty, much like the streets of Orynth, but she supposed on a day like today guests would be huddled in their rooms or in the many drawing rooms that dotted the palace.

She shook off her damp cloak as she entered Lysandra’s rooms; hanging it by the fire in the hopes it would dry. The room was vastly different to her own, the colours more subdued, the windows smaller, hidden behind shorter cream curtains. Touches of Lysandra were thrown in here and there — a blanket that her mother had made when she was a baby was thrown across the end of the bed, a rug of dark red lay across almost the entire floor and the trinkets she had collected from various cities, lined along the mantel.

“Did it go okay?” Sat on the two chairs near the flames were Aedion and Lysandra. Her cousin was holding Lysandra’s hands in his own, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

Aelin took a seat on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “Everything is good. He was happy to have you stay as long as you pleased.”

They both let out a sigh of relief at the news. “Thank you.” Aedion was helping Lysandra to her feet. “We’ll head there now. I’ll try to be back for supper.”

Aelin stood with them, her eyes going to Lysandra who’s face was pale, a thin sheen of sweat lining her forehead.

“Lys? Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Probably just morning sickness.” She turned to Aedion who had a bag in one and her cloak in the other. “Can you give us a moment?”

“I’ll be outside.”

Lysandra moved to the edge of the bed, placing herself down. Aelin wordlessly joined her, the two of them sitting and watching as the snow floated down outside.

“You don’t have to go Lys. We can figure it all out here… You won’t show for a while yet.”

Lysandra just shook her head. “It’s easier if I’m not here. I don’t want people talking, and I don’t want to have to deal with the looks of pity I’ll get.”

Aelin scoffed. “If anyone did that, they’d have me to contend with.”

Lysandra managed a small smile.

“Sam will take good care of you. He was happy for the company.”

“Thank you for going. I know how things were left…”

“It’s all good now Lys. We talked a little and I think we have accepted how things are.”

Lysandra fiddled with her sleeves, the silence stretching a little too long before she began to speak. “I know you must think I’m being difficult or crazy for not just marrying Aedion and that I’m making a fuss about not wanting people to find out,” she took a breath. “But I see the way people look at me. The way they whisper as I walk past. It doesn’t matter that I’m friends with you or if Aedion and I are together, they’ll still only look at me as the orphaned servant girl who got lucky.”

“Lys—“

“I could marry a king and they would still look at me like I am nothing. All I can think of is if it’s like this now, then what will they say when I start showing? When I have the baby? Not only that, but the Lords of Terrasen would never agree to let me marry Aedion anyway— so it’s never been about whether I want to or not. I know I am not good enough for him, and it’s easier if I just go somewhere else for a while and make this whole thing easier.”

“Do you think Aedion gives a shit what everyone else says? Do you think I give a shit what they say?” When Lysandra didn’t respond, Aelin continued. “You worry about what people will think, how Terrasen will be if you married him but I can promise you, it will survive. Do you think Orlon would’ve married Darrow if he knew that it would ruin Terrasen?”

“That’s different.”

“Maybe so. But you have to know that you have people on your side. If you change your mind about this all, we’ll do our best to support you.”

“Thank you.” Lysandra paused a moment. “You can tell Orlon. He has always been kind to me, and I trust that he’ll do what’s best for everyone.”

“Everything will work out, just wait and see.”

Aelin embraced Lysandra, lingering a few moments longer before exiting the room with her. Snuffing out the flames with her magic as they closed the door.

Aedion was waiting on a bench just down the hall and as they approached he wrapped the cloak around Lysandra. He turned to Aelin, nodding once in acknowledgment for what Aelin had done. That conversation would come later. But for now, Aelin watched as they walked away, eventually disappearing.

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larkace · 3 years ago

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Robber Claws

hi guys! i've read a bunch of your fics and got inspired so i wrote a thing! enjoy ;) also, it's pretty long so...buckle up! love yall <3

The criminals lurk in the mist, invisible, but Sofiya Pavlichenkov knows they’re there.

She’s perched in the Lookout’s nest of her Warship in Fourth Harbour, pretending to read the documents her first mate, Kastor, has just handed to her. But her blue coat is flapping in the wind and her papers keep jostling and she’s being watched, all of which is rather uncomfortable.

Idly, Sofiya wonders what the criminals might want. A smuggling, perhaps? Out and away from stinking, crawling, loathsome Ketterdam?

Sofiya hates this city. His city. She misses Ravka, her homeland- the Little Palace.

I miss my bloody Kefta, Sofiya thinks darkly as another bought of wind spirals harshly through the Harbour. The blue coat she wears is a subtle nod to her Tidemaker status, but it’s a sad, thin piece of cloth compared to the grandeur of the Fabrikator-made Keftas. But Sofiya can’t wear her Kefta, not if she wants to blend in in Kerch- a lesson she learned long ago…

Old enemies, Sofiya. Old enemies, but not withered grudges.

Huffing out a sigh that would make Zoya Nazyalensky proud, Sofiya rises gracefully to her feet.

They’re coming. She can feel it; they’re making their way towards the ship. They don’t have to be rowdy to intimidate, that’s for sure - or to make a crowd of Merchants and Thieves part like the sea almost immediately.

Sofiya reaches up behind her head and loops her hand around a piece of knotted rope; takes a deep, steadying breath.

And she steps off the platform into the open air.

For a moment, she catches on the air as if a Squaller has caught her on a buffering breeze, but sure enough, gravity kicks in.

Sofiya welcomes the feeling of her stomach in her throat as the fall takes hold, zipping her past the sails. It's good preparation, anyway, for the three dark figures moving up the docks towards her.

As they near and Sofiya lands lightly on the deck, she confirms what she already knew: these were criminals. Her criminals.

The trio stops in front of her. They're all wearing black and gold - not a uniform exactly, but it’s a solid way to show your allegiance. None of their hands were visible, but if they were, Sofiya would find the Robber Claws emblem branded cleanly onto the backs of their knuckles. Their hoods are drawn up over their faces, but Sofiya can tell from their posture who she’s dealing with.

"Ah, Iseut," Sofiya says serenely, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The girl in the middle pulls down her hood, revealing shining blond hair, dark eyes, full lips. She doesn’t smile.

"Where have you been, Sofiya?" Iseut asks coolly.

"The Wandering Isle," Sofiya answers immediately, "I stopped at Os Kervo on my return to pick up some supplies. I'm only three days late, Is. Cut me some slack."

Iseut sighs, and suddenly looks less the badass, fake-waitress man-killer, and more the tired mother of a delinquent child. Sofiya feels a flicker of guilt.

She had stopped at Os Kervo for more than one reason. The "supplies" were crates upon crates of commandeered Fjerdan weapons and traps, intercepted by the First Army on their way to the Front Line. Sofiya had paid nothing to take them off the hands of the Ravkan soldiers, who honestly had no clue where to send them. What good were jerky Fjerdan guns to a sophisticated, well-oiled Second Army legion?

Sofiya could picture Zoya's face at the sight of the sad little weapons. Disgust and disdain, unshakable beauty - and perhaps just a little bit of pride that her friend had been the one to collect the Fjerdan cargo. Sofiya would work on selling it all later. She'd dump the Grisha traps in the ocean, though. Drown them like they deserved to be drowned.

"I am sorry, Iseut," Sofiya says, and her words aren’t mistruths.

"Don't apologise to me," Iseut says dismissively, "It’s your friends that were barely able to sleep the past few nights. You should talk to -"

"Destry," Sofiya's words mist the air like a fine rain, "I know."

One of the tall figures stood behind Iseut lowers her own hood. Lyra. Ly.

It made sense that the Robber Claws would send their best Bruisers to Fourth Harbour. Sofiya knew by the other Robber's posture that beneath the hood, she would find the face of Winter. But Winter wouldn't lower her hood in front of so many people, so Sofiya was content with what she could get.

"You really had Destry worried, Sof," Ly says, chastising.

"Destry can handle me being gone for weeks on end," Sofiya crosses her arms. She will not be guilt-tripped, "This job was half a week, and I was only a few days off schedule. I did tell Cherry that I'd be late." The words come out as a question.

None of them say anything.

Another flash of worry courses through Sofiya. Cherry Vlasova is a Heartrender, and one of Sofiya's closest friends. The message that Sofiya had forwarded was simple and concise: I'll be a few days late. Stopping at Os Kervo. Don't worry, no Fjerdans. Tell Destry -S.P

Had something happened to Cherry? She was an avid gossiper; her post box was always full of tip-offs (a useful source of information for the Robber Claws) but Sofiya was reliably informed that her letters were always placed on the top of the pile. Marked "URGENT."

"What happened? Is Cherry alright?" Sofiya demands.

Iseut holds up her palms, and they are callused and grease-marked. Sometimes Iseut is so well put together that Sofiya forgets she's a barmaid.

"Cherry is fine. But all our Grisha are shaken. Whilst you were away, there was an attack on the East Stave."

Sofiya's heart stops and restarts and stops again.

An attack. On the Grisha. And she wasn’t there to - to help, to defend-

"Destry," Sofiya breathes, "And Cherry - and Adali, Roza, Linnea, Yan, Anya- oh, Saints, was it the Fjerdans?"

There are many Grisha members of the Robber Claws. It was one of the reasons that Sofiya wanted to join them in the first place. If the Fjerdans had attacked -

"Everybody is fine," Ly says lowly, "We had Freya and May fixing people up as soon as we heard- and Lita, of course, but behind the scenes."

Freya and May- and even Lita, whose powers most of the gang didn't even know of. Grisha Healers. So people had been hurt.

"What. Happened." Sofiya growls, and Ly glares at her challengingly, fists clenching. The water beneath the decking froths and bubbles as Sofiya brings her own fists together, power surging pleasantly up her arms. If Ly wants a fight, she can have one.

"Calm down, both of you," Winter's smooth voice projects from under her hood. Despite the heavy fabric, her voice is clear and commanding. Sofiya takes a breath to compose herself.

"To answer your previous question: no. It wasn't the Fjerdans." Iseut says, "We don’t know what they were."

Sofiya's brow creases at the chime of fear in Iseut's voice. She's never seen the golden-haired barmaid afraid before.

It begins to rain softly, the pattering of droplets quiet against the wooden decking of the docks.

"We should go back to the Queen’s Head, Iseut," Ly suggests, referencing Iseut’s place of work. Iseut nods once, swiftly, and glances over Sofiya's shoulder at her warship.

"Do you need to...?"

"Yes."

"Go on, then."

"KASTOR! IM GOING FOR A ROUND OF DAY-DRINKING!" Sofiya yells over the shoulder of her rain-splattered coat. She hears Ly chuckle as Kastor's scruffy head pokes out from a window.

He nods at Sofiya when he spots her, and she waves, assenting. Kastor would keep everything safe whilst she was gone. It was their unspoken agreement, unchanging and unwavering since the day they'd become crewmates.

Sofiya turns back to Iseut, Ly and Winter.

"Let's be on our way," she says, and lets her fellow criminals lead the way along the Harbour, her warship disappearing into the mist behind her.

~~~~

The mid-day slump of customers meant that the Robber Claws had the Queen’s Head pub all to themselves.

Iseut- who did not own the pub, but had put more work into it than the real owners ever did- had immediately trekked behind the bar and poured herself a whisky.

"Want anything?" She asks, directing the question directly at Sofiya despite the equal presence of Ly- and Winter (who had lowered her hood slightly now that she was back on familiar ground, with familiar faces.) Bruisers didn’t drink on the job. It slowed reflexes.

"The story," says Sofiya firmly, "It a joke about the day-drinking. What happened?"

Iseut pours herself another whiskey and the quartet take a seat at a shady little circular table in a quiet corner. The murmurs of other Robber Claws members is enough to shelter their conversation from the group- despite Sofiya being sure she was the only one unaware of what had transpired the days she’d been gone.

As Iseut begins her story, with Winter and Ly regularly interjecting with additions, Sofiya feels horror and fear clamp down on her heart like a Fjerdan Grisha trap.

Iseut’s alluring voice weaves a tale of Komedie Brute actors in bloody masks, rose-painted rubble from an impossible explosion, and worst of all: Grisha. Dead Grisha, killed by creatures with screeching metal wings.

“Only a few of our Grisha were hurt,” Iseut sips her drink solemnly, “We took your advice of keeping them anonymous and undercover. We have Erin and our other spies out searching for answers at the embassies. I’m sure you’re just as eager to find out about the winged creatures as we are.”

Sofiya nods, “I am. Thank you for filling me in, Is, really. And to you, Ly, Winter. I know you don’t like going to far from the West Stave.”

The last comment was directed purely at Winter. It’s not a lie. Winter runs a dojo for training Kerch’s women to protect themselves from Barrel bosses and scum alike; she didn’t want her clients finding out about her… Robber side. Being a criminal wasn’t the most unintimidating, friendly persona to have when speaking with vulnerable women.

Sofiya respected Winter and her clean profession. It was hard to be so kind in the Barrel. And men were rarely kind to women at all.

Sofiya knew that first hand.

Shoving away the memories- blue eyes, dark hair, gorgeous smile, charming words and sharper wounds- Sofiya stands in one fluid movement.

“I’m going to find Destry,” she says. Iseut stands, Ly and Winter falling back to flank her again, and smiles. She’s beautiful, that is undoubtful, but the attacks- the sleazy men at the Queen’s Head, the strain of the city- it’s all gotten to her. Sofiya can see it.

This city is poison, thinks Sofiya as Iseut takes her hand and shakes it. Poison and rot.

“Destry will be in her rooms,” Ly supplies, and Sofiya nods at her once.

Sofiya grins brightly, hoping it covers her own weariness, and recites, “Fair winds.”

“Bright stars,” chorus her friends. Sofiya waves over her shoulder as she slips out of the bar and down an alley. Above her, a storm brews in the clouds.

Perhaps the stars would be out that night. It didn’t matter. Nobody in Kerch saw the stars anymore.

~~~~

On her way to Destry’s apartments, Sofiya ran into more members of the Robber Claws.

Malcolm and Firefly, who lived together in shared housing in the Anvil, were shopping for new blacksmiths’ equipment. They each provided invaluable services to the Robber Claws, crafting flawless weapons second only to that of Fabrikators. They greeted her with a wink each. Sofiya moved on swiftly after trading them a Wandering Isle-crafted staff for twenty Kruge.

She picked up some baked goods on the way. She would need them. Destry- who had been her closest friend since she arrived in Kerch- was an Inferni. Fire-bringer; with an even fierier temperament. Rumour had it- and Sofiya knew the rumours were true- that Destry had been attending the University of Ketterdam when she’d heard a boy make a lude comment during an exam and lit the paper on fire with her mind. And that paper had been thrown. At the boy’s face. Ouch.

Sofiya had been nursing a whiskey in a tavern when she’d first heard the story recounted. She’d leapt up from her seat, slithered into an alley and held the recounter at knifepoint until he’d told her Destry’s name.

They’d become fast friends upon meeting. Sofiya had been in awe of someone so rebellious, so brave as to set fire to an exam paper, and Destry- well. Destry had laughed for hours when Sofiya had told her how she’d first come across her name.

But now, staring up at the ornate windows of Destry’s apartment, Sofiya feels unsure. She didn’t mean to worry her friend. Iseut had explained that her letter must have gotten lost during the riots. Sofiya cursed the post offices. So there was a deadly storm- your motto is still “We always deliver.”

Despite her trepidation, Sofiya’s feet were swift on the stairs. She had a key to the apartment, and didn’t hesitate to unlock the door and slip inside without a sound, content to watch Destry whilst she worked; even if only for a moment.

Leaning against the wall, Sofiya’s brow creases as she surveys her friend. Destry’s hair is plaited carefully into two loops at the nape of her neck, hazel strands freeing themselves gently against her light brown skin. She’s stood facing away from Sofiya, arms circled in rings of fire. The shirt she wears is Fabrikator-made; the flames don’t take to the papery material.

Sofiya takes a step forward, and pointedly drops her bag of confectionary on the floor. It lands with an audible thump.

Destry whirls, the fire at her wrists whirling into an inferno ready to strike- until Destry sees who is at her door.

“Shouldn’t have hesitated, Des,” Sofiya said weakly, “I could have put a knife in your back.”

The shock on Destry’s face dissolves. Her face splinters down the middle. Licks of fire at her fingertips wilt into ash in a pile at her boot-clad feet.

“You would have put out the flames with your water, I’m sure,” Destry says, and then flies across the room towards Sofiya, wrapping her in a tight, smoke-smelling embrace.

Sofiya would normally pull back. “Don’t be too open with your heart, Des,” she’d say, “People use your loves against you here.” But Sofiya couldn’t bring herself to say those things. The weight of the week comes crashing down on her head like a tsunami.

Fjerdan traps on my boat, attacks on my gang, tensions in Ravka boiling over… where’s safe anymore, except here?

Destry pulls back slightly to scan Sofiya’s face. She has a smear of oil on her cheek. Destry’s eyes are filled with fire, burning like an ember beneath onyx waters.

“Where. Have. You. Been.”

“Destry-”

“Don’t you make excuses with me, Pavlichenkov,” Destry snarls, “You didn’t warn us you were late! I couldn’t sleep- neither could Cherry!”

“I-”

“We thought you’d been caught, Sofi,” Destry cries, “We thought the Fjerdans had got you! I thought you died.”

The word is ugly and big in the room, choking Sofiya’s response. Death. Dying. Dead. And by Fjerdan hands. It wasn’t so rare for travelling Grisha to be caught and sent to the pyres.

“I’m sorry,” Sofiya says, because it’s the only thing there is, “I wrote- I really did, don’t look at me like that- according to Lyra, there was a storm in the True Sea. The letter sunk with the ship.”

“You’re a Tidemaker,” Destry huffs.

“Yes, which means I manipulate water,” Sofiya says, “Not stop it from overturning ships with important letters on them. Destry, I’m sorry. I brought waffles.” She offers the last sentence like a defendant on trial with the Stadwatch; one final piece of evidence to prove her innocence.

Destry brightens immediately, “Well, in that case.”

The pair of them set to work, shoulders just brushing in the cramped kitchenette. Sofiya’s array of pasties are laid out over two plates, which they lay on their laps. Destry’s job for the Robber Claws is, in few words, that of the logician. Papers are scattered all over her apartment, covered in detailed blueprints and scale drawings of buildings all over Ketterdam, Fjerda and even- rarely- Shu Han. There were no drawings of Ravka.

If Iseut had ever commissioned a robbery in Ravka, Sofiya didn’t know about it. It would be…unwise to hit out at the Ravkans, with so many Grisha in the gang.

But Destry’s job was essential, so Sofiya couldn’t complain about the lack of trays to put their plates on. Such things were useless for such an incredible mind as Destry’s.

“So,” says Destry conversationally as she lights the fireplace with a casual flick of her wrist, “How were the Wandering Isles?”

Sofiya says nothing, massaging her temples lightly. Destry manages a laugh.

“Your silence is telling, Sofi,” she warns.

Sighing quietly, suddenly feeling very tired, Sofiya says, “It was crawling with our Fjerdan friends from the North. ‘Peaceful’ Fjerdans.”

Destry spins, and she is outlined with the fire. We’re opposites, Sofiya thinks. Fire and Water.

“You didn’t-” Destry begins, horrified.

Silently, solemnly, Sofiya raised her palms to face the ceiling. Destry reaches out.

Her gentle fingers trace the scars there. Deep and painful and barely healed, the scars run red against Sofiya’s pale flesh.

“Sofiya…” Destry breathes.

“It was the only way to push my power down,” Sofiya whispers. She’s rarely so emotive, but Destry is someone she trusts with everything. It was a weakness, some would say, but they were each powerful Grisha. They were Gods in a world of men. And they would not kneel “If I hadn’t, I would’ve been caught. It was a price to pay.”

Grisha shone like lighthouses around people. In Kerch, in Ketterdam, it was safer for them- especially ones loyal to a gang, as Destry and Sofiya were. But in the Wandering Isles; where Fjerdans passed through on their way to Novyi Zem, where gang affiliations mattered less than the colour of your eyes… Sofiya tells herself she had no choice.

“Sofiya, you’ve opened up old wounds here,” Destry says, tracing the marred skin of her palms again, “You need a healer. Freya, Lita, May-”

“Wouldn’t understand,” Sofiya finished, pulling her hands out of Destry’s and placing them carefully in her lap, obscuring them with her coat, “They’re healers, Des, not warriors- they’d go to Iseut.”

Iseut. Their unofficial leader, the founder, the lighthouse in raging seas. All of the Robber Claws seemed to be caught in her gravity. She was their sun. And Sofiya… well, Sofiya was the moon. Iseut would send her to a healer, one who would stop her travels. One who would commandeer her Warship, and Kastor… health of the mind was important to Iseut.

But Sofiya was not damaged, as they would tell her. She was not broken. Her mind was sound.

I did what I had to do, to survive.

But Destry can see through it all. Through the mask, through her eyes, right to her bones. Through to her lying, treacherous heart. We’re all broken in the end.

But.

Oh, Destry, Destry, please…

“I won’t tell her,” Destry promises, “But I’d like you to know that I think you should. Tell her, that is- Iseut. She might help.”

“She might ship me back to Ravka,” Sofiya grumbles, biting into a toasty croissant.

“Oh, she wouldn’t.”

“You never know.”

“She’ll want you to heal, that’s all.”

“Yes,” Sofiya rolls her eyes, “But these wounds are of the flesh. The scars on my heart will never heal, not in this life Perhaps there will be mercy in the next, even for my rotten soul.”

“You sound like you’re auditioning for the Komedie Brute,” Destry laughs.

“Mother, Father, pay the rent!” Sofiya crows.

“I can’t my dear, the money’s spent,” Destry choruses instinctively.

Sofiya wipes away an invisible tear, “Gorgeous! We’ll make an actress out of you, yet, Destry Clements.”

“Oh, you most certainly will not,” Destry huffs.

Their laughter fills the air, and Sofiya thinks that maybe there is hope for her rotten soul, after all.

~~~~

The man returns late from the pub wearing only one shoe.

A bottle drained halfway of mauve liquid dangles limply from his pale fingers. The veins in his foot are blue in the half-moon’s light.

He slurs a broken melody. She catches a few words as he passes below her on the street.

“Hmm… perish… light… air… fire… hell… hmmm…”

The man’s name is Danyl Harrop. And he is going to die tonight.

“Hmm… shadow… devil… rot… earth… sun… burn… lose….”

Harrop continues down the road, heedless of the mud on his bare foot. He'd be blackout drunk in the morning if he survived.

He wouldn’t.

Silent as a breeze, steps as soft as downy feathers, she leaps from the streetlight where she was perched.

She strikes.

She is ash and shadow. She is a storm of fire. She is vengeance.

She is death.

Harrop yelps as she pins him against the tree. His face is as white as the moon, with eyes like black craters.

“What’re you doi-” he slurs dazedly, but she silences him with a wave of her hand. He blubbers like a fish on land as he tries to shout for help.

“For King and Country,” says the girl. Stepping away from Harrop, she lets her power hold him against the tree, keeping his muscles upright. She surveys him like an artist would their unfinished masterpiece.

The girl whispers, “Sleep tight, Danyl.”

Flicking her wrist, she snaps his neck. He’s still alive, barely, so she latches on to what little of his mind there is left and strips it like an onion. For a man who is out so late, so drunk, on what the girl remembers as a work-day, he knows too much.

Secrets. They feed this girl, nourish her. There is a skip in her step as she turns away from Harrop; without her supporting his muscles, he collapses against the tree. She leaves his mind just as it goes dark.

There is no need to hide in the treetops upon her return to the city. It gleams just half a mile away, most of which is roiling seawater. As the girl wanders along the road back to Ketterdam, she finds Danyl Harrop’s shoe in a puddle of mud. The girl laughs at the sky. She flips a coin into the shoe, whispers a heartless prayer to her Saints, and moves on.

Back to Ketterdam. Back home.

~~~~

Ok, so that's that! I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger... I may have created a whole plot... so there might be some more coming soon!

all these excellent characters (save Sofiya, Danyl, Kastor and the girl at the end who kills Danyl- who has no name... yet *wink*) belong to the following:

Iseut is @littlegirldorothea's

Destry is @finnick-annie's (I may have made them besties👀👀)

Cherry is @brekkercookie's (they are ALSO besties👀👀 we have a trio omg)

Winter is @cressjacquine's

Lyra is @no-mourners-at-my-funeral's

Malcom is @blackpheonix’s

Firefly is @ask-shadowbon’s

Erin is @lightningboytytonjesper’s

Adali is @apple-bottom-jeansx’s

Roza is @vampire-rights’s

Linnea is @alonlyfangirl's

Yan is @lucentcorrigan’s

Anya is @queenlilith43’s

Freya is @smol-evil-gremlin’s

Lita is @the-whispers-of-moonlight’s

May is @saltyfortunes

and the "Fair winds, bright stars" motto as created by @spicy-tomato-sauce's

oh and the whole Grishaverse is the wonderful @lbardugo's <3

if I missed anyone or you want to tag anyone go ahead!

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faithinthefuture28 · 5 years ago

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Larry songs timeline & what it tells us about the evolution of their relationship

**These are all just my interpretations but the more I listen to the music they wrote, the more it all fits together. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE THROUGHOUT THE YEARS THEY’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT WRITING “AUTOBIOGRAPHICALLY” AND “FROM PERSONAL EXPERIENCE”

I deffo missed some songs but these stood out to me:

2013

L-Strong: Love isn’t easy (waves trying to break it) but what we have means something and it’s worth fighting for. read: love is only for the brave (Think of how much love that’s been wasted...there’s nothing i’m running from...i don’t care, I’m not scared of love) And we bring out the best in each other so lets not throw this away (i’d do anything to save it...when i’m not with you i’m weaker).

H-Happily: I want to fight for us too bc we’re on fire and our love is powerful af. ik we have to do stunts and stuff (and if (s)he feels my traces in your hair, sorry love but I don’t really care) but what we have is insane and fuck everyone else bc you’re MINE and i’m YOURS at the end of the day (i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleep). Together, we’re magic so just be with me so happily

H-Something Great: ****this song is very straightforward so i won’t explain it much***** (i want you here with me like how i pictured it so i dont have to keep imagining... We’re better off together here tonight). Written as a longing for what could be if they dont have to suppress the relationship. (script was written...want to rip it all to shreds) Louis’ response (you’re all I want so much it’s hurting) basically says “it’s not too much to ask babe, i want it too.” This has the kind of longing that ‘wouldn’t it be nice- beach boys’ which Harry has admitted is kind of a theme song.

L-Through the Dark: I know all this bs we’re going through is taking a toll on you and hurts you and i hate seeing you upset (you tell me that your sad...you tell me that you’re hurt and youre in pain and i can see your head is held in shame...i just wanna see you smile again) but I will do everything physically possible to protect you from any pain bb (i’d never let you fall and break your heart, if u wanna cry or fall apart, i’ll be there to hold ya). We’re going through this together and I will take on any responsibility needed to keep you happy. I’M WILLING TO GO THROUGH HELL TO FIGHT FOR US HARRY LOVE (entire chorus basically).

L-Better than Words: holy fuck our love is amazing can’t even describe it can i just sing to you foreva love u babycakes

L-Why don’t we go there: what if...we just forgot about the world and escaped and enjoyed each others love and rode the high??? Also sex

2014

L-Ready to Run: *******Followup to Why Don’t We Go There*********** But this time let’s escape for real bc (there’s me inside a sinking boat running out of time). Like i’m ready to get out of here and it could just be us living happily ever after (this time i’m ready to run). Honestly nothing else makes sense (without you i’ll never make it out alive...wherever you are is the place i belong). I know what i want out of life and IT’S YOU HARREH (i want to be free and i wanna be yours, i will never look back).

L-Steal My Girl: all u thirsty hoes find someone else bc Harry is MY pretty princess. Srsly ask his family. But you can still admire how he looks in those jeans. We all do. You know the ones

L-No Control: boy u fine, let’s do what lovers do IN THE MORNING. bc we can. also you own me and i am urs

L-Clouds: WE KNEW THIS WAS GONNA BE HARD SO WHY ARE YOU BEING A LITTLE BITCH (you dont like it complicated...but love is never ever simple...you are tired of all the changes, but love is always always changing). We could be great yo, just keep fighting (if we’re never coming back down, we’ll looking down on the clouds...we go and we go and we dont stop)

H-Where do Broken Hearts Go: IM SORRY LOU BABY YOURE EVERYTHING (rest of my crimes dont come close the look on your face when i let you go... the taste of your lips...is at the top of the list of things i want). H&L’s call and response at the end is basically forgiveness and acknowledgment (come on baby come and get me out, come on baby cuz i need you now)

H-Two Ghosts: *****was written around this time according to Harry******. This is fucking hard yo. We’re drained and exhausted and idk how much more we can fight for this... (it’s not you and it’s not me...sounds like something that i used to feel). That infatuation and electricity and hope that fueled our younger selves isn’t really there anymore and i’m just tired man (we’re just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat, we’re not who we used to be...this was all we used to need). We’re empty vessels going through the motions (same eyes blue, couple more tattoos). AND WE AREN’T FUCKING COMMUNICATING (we dont say what we really mean).

2015

H&L-Perfect: so what if... we get rid of the pressure of forever? What if we just have fun doing the stupid shit we love and makes us feel alive (trouble up in hotel rooms, secret little rendezvous, things you know that we shouldn’t do). Like we won’t be out of each others’ lives, I’m still around and we can find comfort in each other and even mess around here and there (I can be the one you love from time to time). Remember how we used to be young and EXCITED (when i first saw you from across the room, i could tell that you were curious) let’s get that energy back without the responsiblity of an adult relationship. And we can keep making art lmao (if youre looking for someone to write your breakup songs about).

L-Long Way Down *****this song fkn hurts man. It’s overlooked a lot but shows so much insight**** We were...everything. And maybe that’s the problem? We’ve been through so fucking much, more than anyone our age should have to endure. (We've been in fire, Went down in the flames. We sailed the ocean And drowned in the waves. Built a cathedral But we never prayed) We didn’t know what we had. We were damn kids man. We weren’t prepared for all this. We didn’t know how powerful this would be. We didn’t know what it required of us. (We had a mountain But took it for granted. We had it all yeah. Who could’ve planned it). We didn’t know what to do with it, how to deal with it, so here we are. (We had a spaceship But we couldn't land it) We’re each other’s everything, but we can’t keep going on like this babe. (We found an island But we got stranded). I don’t want to leave you but being together is breaking us down. (Point of no return and now It's just too late to turn around) We thought we were untouchable. That love conquers all. Maybe, we were wrong. This is gonna hurt like a bitch (We built it up so high and now I'm fallin', it’s a long way down)

H-Olivia: I LIVE FOR YOU, I LONG FOR YOU, I LOVE YA. And i think i’ll always love ya. And I’m scared...of life without you (i get the feeling you’re walking out, time is irrelevant when i’ve not been seeing you, the consequences are falling now, there’s something i’m having nightmares about...dont let me go). But maybe just maybe thats okay, because you’re AIMH (you live in my imagination...i love you, it’s all i do).

L-Love you Goodbye: I fucking love you and I’ll always fucking love you but i think this is the right thing to do even though it feels so wrong (i know there’s nothing i can do to change it, but is there something that can be negotiated?) We made some goddamn fireworks together though (unforgettable together held the whole world in our hands) and do ya maybe think...we can make them just once more? (if tomorrow you wont be mine, let me give it to you one last time, baby let me love you goodbye...one more taste of your lips just to bring me back to the places we’ve been and the nights we’ve had because if this is it, then at least we could end it riiiiight). ********in the interview with our FAVE Gwen Garcia, she asked if it’s better to say goodbye and end a relationship that’s not feeling right or keep trying even if your heart’s not in it. Harry responds with “I think it’s better to say goodbye...but sometimes if youre trying to protect..” Then Louis cuts him off and says “you’re going deep aren’t you”, brushing the question off as a joke but imho i think there was pain in that answer. Then Harry continues “if you’re not 100% in it, I think it’s better for both parties if you say goodbye”. And Louis adds a “yeah” at the end.********

H-Walking in the Wind: I know this is scary but i think we can do it, (you said to me do you believe i’ll be too far? if youre lost just look for me you’ll find me) I think because youre AIMH and i’m always in yours, it’ll be good for us. And look at us being mature, we’re killing it babe. We can live our separate lives and grow on our own. We dont need to make it messy and hurtful. We’re on the same page. (the fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye means we’ve already won. A necessity for apologies between you and me, baby there is none). At this point, we’re kinda part of each other right? So it’s healthy for us to be apart for a bit. (it’s not the end, i’ll see your face again... i know we’ll be alright...just close your eyes and see i’ll be by your side any time you need me). And you’ve helped me grow into the person I am, and I you, so that’s cool as hell, right? (you will find me in places that we’ve never been). We had a TON of fun (we had some good times didnt we) so i feel okay that we’re doing this (goodbyes are bittersweet) and starting the next adventure in our lives.

H-If I could fly: I. am. yours. Louis. William. Tomlinson. (for your eyes only, i’ll show you my heart). Maybe this growth thing isn’t worth it, let me prove to you how much you mean to me (i think i might give up everything just ask me to). This is gonna be hard as shit because i’m so dependent on you (i’m missing half of me when we’re apart). I’m being honest and I’m being scared and I’m being vulnerable because I can’t lie to you and pretend I’m strong (i let my guard down, right now i’m completely defenseless). But we’re part of each other, right? (i could feel your heart inside of mine). I’ll always be here for you Lou (for when you’re lonely and forget who you are) even if for now we can’t physically be together.

L-Home: I’ve tried, Harry. I’ve tried to play pretend (told myself i kind of like her but there was something missin in her eyes). But i was lost (i was stumblin, lookin in the dark with an empty heart) because none of it was enough, none of it was YOU (it was there i sawr it in your eyes). And then i met you and you felt the same and we’re both lost souls playing pretend who found magic in each other (but you say you feel the same, could we ever be enough?) Is our love enough to overcome everything? Maybe we can be enough. Maybe I can make this enough, let me try to make it enough for you. And if we go our separate ways, know that I’m here for you no matter what. I won’t let you be lost again. (When you’re lost I’ll find a way and I’ll be your light, you will never feel like you’re alone, I’ll make this feel like home). So go. wander. find yourself. Then when you’re ready, come home.

2016-2017

H- Sweet Creature: ***Harry admit that this was the first song he wrote for the album**** We aren’t in the best place rn. We’ve been fighting (had another talk about where it’s going wrong...it’s hard when we argue, we’re both stubborn). But it’s you Louis. It can’t be anyone else. (don’t know where we’re going but we know where we belong... wherever I go, you bring me home). That’s not even a question. I’m still trying to figure out who I am, but the one thing I know is that a large part of who I am is you (we started 2 hearts in one home). And aint no way I’m losing that part of myself (when i run out of road, you bring me home). It was always you.

H-MMITH: Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready (just let me know i’ll be at the door, hoping you’ll come around). I know I need to work on myself a little more (i gotta get better, and maybe we’ll work it out) but honestly i’m getting impatient and i want things to go back to how they were and i want to be yours again (once you go without it, nothing else would do). But I can’t communicate this to you clearly so let me just put this in a song and hope you get it (we dont talk about it, it’s something we dont do) ****Harry mentioned in an interview that he expresses himself through songwriting when he can’t say the words directly to a person because it’s easier to just write it in a song than have difficult conversations*****

H-ESNY: ****honestly no idea what this song is about but it’s something to do with them fighting and not communicating and being in a weird place before their relationship is rekindled******* edit: this could be about his stepdad

H-FTDT: I MISS YOU AND I’M TOO FULL OF PRIDE TO TELL YOU DIRECTLY JUST COME BACK INTO LIFE LOU I’M LONELY AND SAD AND EMPTY AND IM NOT FUCKING FINDING MYSELF LIKE YOU SAID I WOULD (woke up alone, played with myself where were you...we havent spoke since you went away, why wont you ever say what you wanna say) So until then I sit and wait for your sorry ass to make the first move (maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too...but you never do). Also like i have to hear from other people how you are?? (i saw your friend that you know from work, he said that you feel just fine) ANd you’re sharing OUR clothes with people?? wtf just swallow your pride and call me

L-Miss You: OKAY BUT I CANT JUST CALL YOU BECAUSE I HAVE PRIDE TOO also my mates are trying to make me get over you (now i’m asking my friends how to say I’m sorry, they say lad give it ttime there’s no need to worry, and we can’t even be on the phone now). So i’m just numbing your absence with partying and drinks but CLEARLY ITS NOT WORKING (should be laughing but there’s something wrong...shit maybe i miss you...when i feel it coming up i just throw it all away, get another few shots cuz it doesn’t matter anyway...such a good time, i’ll believe it this time). This is weird bc like you were my everything but im trying to get used to this and it fucking sux (oh how shit changes, we were in love, now we’re strangers). And tbh, its scary af bc what if this is it (i’m asking myself, is it over?). BUT ALSO LIKE WTF U COULD REACH OUT FIRST YA KNOW (i’ve been checking my phone all evening).

H-Anna: wtf Louis how do you not see how much this is killing me. I miss you so much and seeing you on tv or in pics drives me wild bc you’re not mine. (I don’t want your sympathy but you don’t know what you do to me...everytime I see your face there’s only so much I can take...I guess it would be nice if I can touch your body). And idk if you’re replacing me (don’t know where you’re laying, just know it’s not with me) and we’re in SUCH a weird place rn how do I tell u you’re the loml (don’t know what I’d say if I passed you on the street...don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth) so I refuse to put this song on the album and let you know this and give you satisfaction from knowing how gone I still am for you bc I have 0 idea how you feel (hope you never see this and know that it’s for you)

L-Always You: SO THIS IS ME SWALLOWING MY PRIDE STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU SAYING IM SORRY FOR THAT NIGHT... ok but fr i miss u i miss u i miss u i miss u and nothing else compares like i can travel the whole world and all i think about is how much more fun it was with you and the memories we shared and i wish i could just say thx fr th mmrs and move on but actually no thx actually fuck you for making me not able to enjoy my life without you. So like...come home? and wrap your legs around me? also lmao i took El to a gay bar in amsterdam for her bday lmao i miss u come cuddle me and i’ll tell you all about it

L-We Made It: looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come my baby. They saidd I bett they’ll never make it, but just look at us holding onn, we’re still togetherr, still going stronggg. Also to the fans, miss our single bed and the nights we talked about our dreams :-* also Andrew my man luv u

2018-2019

L-KMM: our love was youthful and exhilarating and fucking electric and i think it still can be. dont know what i’d do without you now H

L-DLIBYH: We’re strong babe and we’ve grown and we aren’t gonna let life drag us down. I’m doing better, you’re doing better, this is what we wanted. And now any shit we go through, we’ll go through TOGETHER

L-Too Young: Okay but looking back, that was a lot of shit we went through and we were just babies and i’m sorry for not fighting harder (i cant believe i gave in to the pressure when they said a love like this would never last so i cut you off cuz i didnt know no better) baby i tried, i tried to protect you but like it was just so much and i hate that you got hurt and i wont ever let that happen again. ALso go us for being mature and COMMUNICATING (face to face at the kitchen table, we can finally have a conversation that I wish we could’ve had before). ANd i know you’re an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry so here let ME say i’m sorry that i hurt you darling. Like we were too young to know we had everything BUT now we’re old(er) and can realize that when we’re together, we DO have everything now and omg is this our happily ever after and we can have a daughter and name her Darcy

L-Habit: do i need to spell it out for you iiiiii aaaaaaaaammmmmmm sssssssoooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyy. But tbh i let you go because it felt right because mentally you were already out the door and i needed to give you room to grow babe. And i needed the space too (you gave me the time and the space i was out of control and i’m sorry i let you down). but like also i’ve learned i can’t escape you Styles. You’re always in my fucking heart and my fucking mind and in every essence of my being and somehow I knew that 9 years ago and it took me this long to realize how powerful this really is (guess that that i know what i already knew, i was better with you and i miss you now). Ooooh also my favorite line i wrote (took some time cuz i ran out of energy of playing someone I heard I’m supposed to be and honestly i dont have to choose anymore) like who am i kidding, im done pretending i just wanna be yoursss now

L-Defenseless: I can’t help it okay theres something about you that doesn’t let me stay away. I need you and I know that rekindling this relationship isn’t going to be easy even though it feels so so right. It’s going to be hard work (sleeping on our problems but we’ll solved them in our dreams, wake up early morning and it’s still under the sheets) and we need to communicate and solve our problems but here I am, raw and unfiltered and emotionally naked in front of you ready to lay it all on the table (not sure how to say this right, got so much to lose. NEver been so defenseless). So like this branch I’m reach out to you and you be honest with me too babe (you dont have to keep on being strong for me and you. Acting like you feel no pain, you know i know you do...I can’t get inside, when you’re lost in your pride but you don’t have a thing to prove). Be open with me. Lets talk. Let’s solve problems. Lets have an adult relationship. I’m asking for a little vulnerabiltiy babe. It’s just me. Theres nothing to be scared of

L-Walls: And here you have me in my purest form. No lies, no secrets, no insecurities to hide behind. Losing you was fucking painful but i got through it. I’ve been through hell and back and I’ve fought. And without you, I grew into the person I am. And any further growing i’m doing is gonna be with you. bc it was all for you babe. and honestly i can take anything life throws at me now. I’m strong baby. I’m fucking strong and fucking brave and fucking resilient and...fucking yours. ***** wtf is the I just hope i see you one day and you’ll say to me oh oh********

H-Golden: You are the literal sun and I’m not ready. YOU’RE SUCH A GOOD PERSON (you were way too bright for me, i’m hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky). I’m scared to go through this alone, I need your comfort and your guidance (i can feel you take control of who i am and all i’ve ever known). But you’re scared to go through this with me bc you dont wanna get hurt and i’m too open so where tf does that leave us. ******this could be about coming out especially with the London AND NY secret shows where Harry added the lyric I’m hoping someday you’ll open*******

H-Adore You: You dont have to say you love me, you dont have to say nothing, you dont have to say you’re mine. I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore Lou. Like its the only thing I’ll ever do. read: Louis is a great person to just admire what he’s like. ALso I dont need anything back. I just dont want to hide my love for you anymore. I don’t need answers or promises. Just let me adore you. ********the music video is also basically a Louis appreciation post. He was the boy with the smile that the world took away from him. He found Harry lost and loved him and nurtured him and made him confident and allowed him to be who he wanted to be. But in doing so, Harry became big and unsatisfied and wanted to explore the world and was clearly interested in Hollywood and Rockstardom especially evident in his behavior 2014-2015. And Louis wasn’t about that life and didn’t want to hold him back. So he let him free. But they realized that they don’t work apart. Wherever they’re going, they’re going together, as the boy sails into the unknown following the fish. I see it as Harry’s version of “this one is a thank you for what you did for me” ************* I see it, I appreciate it, and I love you for it

H-Lights Up: ****fight with Louis. (What do you mean I’m sorry by the way) About coming out? About fame? (Step into the light, so bright sometimes) Either way, L is the guy driving the motorcycle in the video who makes H feel comfortable and safe until they get pulled over because SOMEONE wont let them love*******

H-Falling: What if i’m out, what if i’m someone you won’t talk about? Okay maybe I lied I do want you to claim me. Would me coming out of the closet make that hard for you? I CAN’T GO THROUGH AN IDENTITY CRISIS WITHOUT YOU LOU. I picked someone supportive and now I’m spoiled and I dont know how to be with myself. You want back in my life but what if I dont deserve it? (you said you cared and you missed me too...what i’m someone i dont want around). What if you’re better off without me? (i get the feeling that you’ll never need me again). I know youve been through so much shit because of me, things you’ve never even told me about and im afraid...that I wasn’t worth it. Am I being selfish? because either way, i want YOU (what if you’re someone i just want around). Does that make me a bad person?

H-TBSL: ****Probably when they starting talking again but it was v casual and they didn’t really discuss their relationship yet*****. I MISS U BUT I WONT TELL U THAT and its nice to talk to u again i missed your voice but if u call me baby i will kill u bc that word has weight OKAY. Like i know you just call everyone babe and darling and sweetheart but baby is FOR ME and only for me when you wake up with me and cuddle me and if you think you have any right calling me baby without giving the luxury of being in a relationship with you then piss off because that shit hurts dude. (i know that you’re trying to be friends, know that you mean it...it’s hard for me to go home to be so lonely). ALso it’s not my fault i’m like this, you literally captured my heart when i was 16 like wtf do u expect (dont blame me for falling, i was just a little boy)

H-Sunflower Vol. 6: we were babies and i was so enamored by you and you’re so bright and beautiful and i want to watch you all day and make you smile and i want you to touch my hair and call me curly and i hope im not making you uncomfortable with my heart eyes but like how are you so perfect. I hope you think i’m cool, i’m really trying but like you’re SO FUNNY and charming and everyone loves you i hope im not embarassing myself. And now it’s like 8 years later and i think i can have you again and i want you so bad but i dont wanna seem too eager and im trying to have dignity and not text you first but like also i want nothing more than to talk to you. Do you think i’m cool now? did you like my new hairstyle? Do you think i’m funny on tour? I want everything i want to be domestic again and kiss in the kitchen and i want to cook for you and as;ldfa;sdhaf i want to buy you flowers everyday and shower ur cute face with kiss. boopx28

H-Canyon Moon: Hell yea i got ma man back and i have a girlfriend named Jennifer ;) and we are domestic and even though I HATE being away from him for work (so hard to leave it) we have the 2 week rule yall then i can wrap my legs around him and after so so so long I’ll be h.o.m.e. Also did i tell you his eyes are so so blue like sky who i dont know her

H-TPWK: So we’re really doing this. We don’t need to have it all figured out. We can just be us. and happy. and dance. The world loves us babe. (Giving second chances, I don’t need all the answers and if we’re here long enough we’ll see it’s all for us and we’ll belong)

H-Fine Line: You’ve got my devotion but man I can hate you sometimes....We’ll be a fine line. Between what? love and hate? public and private? out and in the closet? each others’ and ourselves? Idk. But i’m going to swallow my pride (my hands at risk I fold) because no matter what, the worst possible outcome is not having you. And I never wanna go through that again. I know we have work to do on our relationship (spreading you open is the only way I know you). And there’s lot of unknown here (there’s things that we’ll never know) but what i do know is that i cant resist you (you sunshine you temptress) and i cant be without you ever again. I think it’ll be hard as hell. But when have we known love as anything but hard? And when have we known our love as anything but worth it? We’ll be a fine line baby. But i know, i knowww with every part of me that we’ll be alright. Because these past 10 years, we’ve been through A LOT. ANd it could have ruined us and made us cynical and cold and closed off. And I think at one point it did. But you know what we did? We fought it. We fought it together. Then we fought it individually. And we became BRAVE. And a brilliant man once said, “love is only for the brave”.

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mimiwrites2000 · 4 years ago

Text

When I Was Human

a one shot

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

Words count: 3751

* spoilers for chapter 131 and up

Summary:

The boat sailed in the middle of the ocean, trapped within blue from all directions.

On it sat two lost souls, that forgot what it was like to be human.

Armin told Annie many tales when she was in the crystal, however, there was one story he never got to finish…

Annie asks about it, and Armin finds himself in a swirl of memories of how he was revived four years ago…

He was used to letting it out.

It was natural, as spontaneous as breathing; he would sit down and talk talk talk.

Maybe the first few minutes were awkward, but as soon as the knot in his tongue lessened, he unleashed the avalanche kept captivated in his chest. On and on he went, until all trembling thoughts were spent, his mind left with an unoccupied room, enough for a night with only a nightmare or two.

Back then, he gazed at a heap of a crystal-clear rock, a girl floating within it, trapped in a loop of stillness. In a cold basement he sat, torches fluttered and blazed, but their warmth a marginal drop in a bitterly cold ocean.

But now, he was side by side with that girl, the same one who was frozen for more than four years. Her warmth radiated off her now-lively skin, her hair teased by the ocean-salt breeze. Her eyes open, the blue in them as vibrant as he could remember.

The ship sailed into the vast blue, seagulls as their companion in this journey towards the unknown.

“Have you ever thought… that I was listening all these years?” she asked, side-eyeing him, as she embraced her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.

“I…” he averted his eyes when they caught hers, as much as he desired to never look at anything but her ocean-blue eyes, his cheeks would betray him with a tint of red, he had no control on that, and he hated it when he loses controls, “I… I imagined things…”

“Like what?”

A shaky sigh left him, he wondered how he so easily talked to her for four years, “Sometimes… I thought it was possible that you were listening, but I didn’t let myself think too much about it.”

That was a lie; he did think a lot about it, before he slept, alone in his room, at night.

Her eyes lingered on him for a second, before she swiveled her head, watching the horizon stretching endlessly before them.

“It explains a lot…” she murmured.

Armin’s eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit, “Explains what?”

“There were times when you stopped talking in the middle of a sentence… I used to think you lost your train of thought, or felt stupid for talking to me, but now… it explains it.”

“Oh…”

Armin couldn't think of a retort… or maybe he did, he wanted to tell her that he himself couldn’t believe he spent hours talking to her, his own voice echoing back to one pair of ears, no response but the crackling of fire in the inflamed torches.

“I can’t believe you actually wasted hours talking to me,” she said, the corner of her lips up ticked.

Armin snorted, shaking his head.

“But… I can’t find an explanation for one thing,” Annie said, looking at Armin, “you never finished one story.”

“Oh…” He already knew what story she was talking about, “which one?”

“Bertholdt’s”

A rock dropped in Armin’s stomach, he looked away promptly. He tried to swallow, but it was as hard as swallowing his own tongue, which knotted on itself, pressing at the roof of his throat, shallowing his breathing.

“Yeah…” he choked out, giving up on settling his voice.

He didn’t blame Annie for spreading this topic on the table, out and in the open. After all, there was nothing untrue about what she said; he told her tales of when he was six, without jumping over any detail, except for this one tale, that he had a hard and a long time believing.

Armin tried many times to talk about it… but he never dared to finish it.

He tried to avoid this subject even with his closest friends; Mikasa tried countless times to make him open up, but he shut himself away, locking this one exact memory in a metal box at the far corner in his mind, it would crack open after midnights, when he would storm out his room for the closest bathroom, holding himself back from throwing up on the carpets or in the hallways.

The inevitable day of unlocking that box had come, it was no other than Annie Leonhart that had the key to its steel-hard lock.

Armin glanced at her; one look was enough to see the displeasure of bringing up this topic, but the determination of hearing out this tale until the very end.

He took in a deep, slow breath, closing his eyes, trying to decide from where to start.

“I could tell you… my own experience,” Annie said, fidgeting with the rim of her sleeve.

He watched her, and when their eyes met, he nodded once.

“In the Warrior Training Unit… after we were chosen, we are supposed to spend time with the past holders,” Armin furrowed his eyebrows, “it’s been discovered that the deeper the connection between the receiver and the giver, the more memories are transferred.”

Armin nodded, understanding, but then his eyes lit up with a question, “Wouldn’t that make it harder for you? I mean, to eat someone you know well…”

“They did that so we can use their memories to control our titans faster, would save a lot of time.”

“That’s inhumane.”

“When was anything humane? When was I ever a human? When were any of us human?” Annie clenched her fists over her knees.

“Annie-”

“I talked to her only once,” Annie interrupted, raising her hand. She shrugged her shoulders, “as expected, I didn’t see much of her memories, but I was lucky I took control over the Female Titan really quick.”

“I see…”

“It didn’t make it easier though…”

Armin watched Annie; she didn’t meet his eyes.

Those ocean blue eyes that hid more than any soul’s endurance. An ocean with a far bottom, a limitless hole of mysteries and sorrows. He saw her tale in her eyes, a reflection to her words.

“One moment… I felt… fire…” Annie opened up her fists, mimicking the small, harmless flame of a candle, “last thing I thought was my lungs ruptured, then I woke up in my bed, with a ring on my finger. The next thing I knew, I was a warrior and I had a mission to complete.”

A beat of silence.

A shamed hand scratched Armin’s neck; he used to avoid thinking about how Annie had her powers…

He tried to stop himself from asking, but the question was out his mouth before he could stop it: “Did you gain your memories? The memories of that moment?”

He shouldn’t have asked it, he knew what it was like to have these thoughts stuck in your head, ricocheting against your skull, but you keep them all in, safe inside your shell.

“I did…” she answered, she didn’t seem bothered, or maybe she acted unbothered, “or more like… I saw her last moments… before I ate her…”

She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

“Unless you wanna talk about it,” he answered it.

Annie pressed her lips, she sighed: “I saw myself, my mindless titan form, right before I closed my mouth on her…”

Armin waited patiently for her to finish her sentence.

“It’s… I don’t know how to feel about…” Annie let out an exacerbated breath, annoyed at her feeble speech, “that was the last thing she saw before she died, and that horrific thing, that horrific pain… it was me, I was the reason behind it.”

Armin scooted closer to Annie.

“You would think it gets easier after all the killing I did, but it never did… maybe it’s because…”

“Because what?”

“Because it was the last thing I did when I was a human.”

Armin shivered, hugging himself, rubbing up and down his arms. His bones trembled, because-

“I know exactly what you mean,” he confessed, and it wasn't empathetic, it wasn’t the kind of empty words people exchange for comfort, it was true and honest.

The breeze caressing their skin softly, reminding them of their surroundings, anchoring them to the present, away from the haunting past.

Annie scooted closer to him, until their thighs touched.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he whispered, very close to her ear.

She glanced at his lips, then gazed in his eyes.

Their eyes a mirror of each other, reflecting their deepest fears. A bottomless lake that was pouring out into the other’s. After all, no one knows the depth of the ocean, its shiny, glimmering surface a mere artifice of the perils it conceals.

“I…” Armin started, Annie’s attentiveness motivating him, “Eren told me what happened, and how it happened, right after I woke up.”

Armin found words flowing out his mouth; any restraint from earlier flew with the wind, and the metal, locked box in his mind was shattered open, releasing cuffed thoughts and suffocating emotions, and Annie was there to embrace these haphazard thoughts, tame them, and accept them.

“I didn’t believe Eren, at first, I didn’t want to believe him.”

Annie’s fingers were an inch away from Armin’s.

“The first thing I thought about… was commander Erwin. He died, because of me.”

Armin noticed Annie’s jaw clench; she wanted to say something, but stopped herself.

“The first few weeks were… a blur, I was seeing new things, feeling new things… the only bright side was that… all the scars on my body were gone.”

Annie smiled, a small, fleeting smile, but a smile nonetheless, it faded as fast as it showed.

Armin found himself mirroring that smile, lingering for a few longer seconds, before it faded as well…

“Something was wrong with me, back then… I didn’t understand what it was,” Armin let out a quivering breath, “I started seeing more of Bertholdt’s memories, nothing to benefit the survey corps, but… enough for me to understand the world from his perspective…”

Annie’s fingers touched Armin’s; cold and warm, meeting in the middle.

Armin glanced at Annie’s hand, before he said: “but then… that day… I saw it.”

For a moment, it was only silence.

Annie’s hand clasped over Armin’s.

“I got the memory of that day back, the day I ate him.”

Annie rested his palm on her own, her other hand rubbing circles on his skin.

“It was different from what Eren told me; we were fighting against him, and I came up with a plan.”

The grip on his hand tightened.

“I was midair, and he let off steam, and all I saw was scorching red and orange,” the heel of his shoes dug deeper into the wooden floor, his toes curling in them.

If he was in the basement, he would’ve stopped at this point, and let the rest of the story captivated within his mind, lingering inside his head all night long until dawn broke.

But this time was different.

Annie was there, right beside him, hair dancing with the wind, skin vibrant and alive, her breath mixing with his, their fingers intertwined.

“And I was burning,” He continued, his own voice unrecognizable, distant and far, as far as the memory felt, yet so close, hovering over his skin. “My skin was aflame,” he looked at his hands, “and I couldn’t breathe, it was impossible to breathe, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t.”

He closed his eyes, took in a shaky, labored inhale: “My skin… it was numb, I was numb, I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew I was dying, I thought of Eren, and the ocean, but I didn’t feel myself, I didn’t feel my body, I couldn’t feel my fingers-” he held out the hand Annie was caressing, swinging it, “I didn’t know- I was- I don’t think it was real- I-I don’t feel like it was real-”

“Armin-”

“But it was,” he hissed, his voice low and choked, back hunched, and his eyes wide open, boring into Annie’s.

Annie put their tangled hands on her lap, all the while holding Armin’s gaze.

“It’s real, it happened, I killed him.”

Bertholdt’s screams echoed inside his mind.

Armin searched in Annie’s eyes, waiting for hate and anger to ignite in them, waiting for her to get up and leave him where he was, hunched on a hopeless ship, on a hopeless mission.

But he saw nothing, only the pressure of her hand on his increasing.

His throat tightening as if an egg clogged it, he attempted to swallow: “An-and then Eren and Mikasa made c-captain” he choked, “captain Levi to use the serum on-on-on me! Annie they gave it to me!”

Annie’s jaw clenched, she watched Armin’s eyes glistening.

“And I still don’t know how to feel about that,” he flailed his free hand around, shaking his head, “I don’t know if what I’m doing is right or wrong, but I don’t have a choice.”

Armin let out several breaths before he continued: “I can’t stop, I can’t let him down, I can’t let anyone down, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough, and I don’t know what to do.” his voice lowered and was only a whisper at the end.

He looked at their entangled hands; their knuckles white, that’s how tight they were holding each other.

Armin released his hand from Annie’s grip, put his head in his palms, and murmured: “Now I know what was wrong, I know what is wrong with me,” his hands rubbed his cheeks violently, then he froze, as if a thought just popped in his head. He swiveled his head towards Annie and muttered: “I was no longer human, I’m no longer human.”

Annie’s mouth opened and closed several times, words departed her mind, her throat dry, tongue in a knot.

Silence followed, fraught by a blend of wavering anger and long-kept-in sadness. Armin’s shoulders shaking, he gripped his knees, tightening his grasp on them, gritting his teeth together.

Annie’s hand rested on his back, slowly rubbing circles.

They were no longer humans.

Annie eyed Armin, his head tilted, eyes unfocused on an invisible spot on the ground.

They were no longer humans.

That thought didn’t occur to Annie before her mission, or perhaps it did, but she shoved it to the back of her mind, fighting and staying alive always occupying the front porch of her thoughts.

But then she was sent to the island, she met Paradis’s devils, and she questioned her life, since the day she was born.

She liked to think that she was over the ‘I’m no longer human’ dilemma, but the projection of her own life onto Armin’s, the cycle repeating itself, and these thoughts that she shoved away jostled their way in front of her eyes.

“I have two years left,” Annie found herself saying, Armin tensed, “three, if I was lucky.”

The breeze blew softly around them, Annie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, closing her eyes, Armin watched the movement of her fingers.

“You were conscious… all this time,” Armin said.

“I was…” Annie confirmed, “It felt like a long dream…”

“Why didn’t you come out?”

Annie almost snorted, “Why would I?”

“I don’t know…”

“Yes you know, you want to say that I wasted these four years of my already short life don’t you?”

“I… no… I wanted to say that… maybe we could’ve worked it out,” Armin admitted, it was only half the truth.

“That’s you, not everyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one is as forgiving as you…” She said, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, “no one else knows what it feels like to be me, or to be you.”

“Maybe I would’ve convinced them…”

“And then what? Use me as a weapon? Fight on your side?” Annie asked, her tone harsher than she intended to.

But he only looked at her, a sad smile pulled at his lips, he chuckled: “I would’ve run away with you.”

Annie lips parted, she didn’t see that coming, and was out of words.

Armin took her hand, covered it securely with his palms, looking down at her small hand in his relatively bigger ones: “I would’ve ran away with you, we would live some place far away, live for our day.”

His fingers traced spontaneous shapes on the back of her hand, she watched him in silence.

“I wouldn’t think of tomorrow, or yesterday, there would be only today, and tonight…”

Annie looked away. That fairytale life was far from reach, she knew it, and he knew it, but was there harm in dreaming?

“Would that make us human?” he asked, looking in her eyes, leaning closer to her.

“Yes,” She answered.

Their foreheads rested against each other, their shuddering breaths mixing. Gazing into each other's eyes. All these words encapsulated for years poured out like an avalanche into the small space between them, all these unspoken thoughts, regrets, tracing around their blue pupils in dark hues, ensnaring them.

A part of them that would never leave them.

Adhering to them for whatever was left of their short lives.

His hand under her chin, lifting it up, his thumb brushing over her bottom lips,

She cupped his cheeks with trembling fingers and hesitant breaths, eyelids fluttering shut.

It was weird, foreign, the invisible strings that pulled her towards him, a magnetic force made her want to stay by his side for as long as she could.

He watched her face for a few moments, her cheeks, a tint of a pink hues blushing them, her closed eyelids. He shivered, and wanted her to open her eyes, he gazed at her for four years, with her eyes closed, frozen midair.

His lips were an inch away from hers.

Armin leaned in, lips touching in the middle, closed-tight, inexperienced lips placing peaks on each other,

Warm.

Annie thought, his lips were warm, his touch soft, and warmth sheltered her body, from the tip of her toes until the tip of her ears.

He wanted this for so long, to feel her in his arms, her warmth. It would be a lie to say he didn’t dream about the feeling of her lips many times before, imagining what it would be like to press his lips over hers, over and over, soft and warm.

There she was, in his arms, her lips on his, hesitant moves, scared, indecisive.

Fire ignited right where their lips touched.

Armin pulled away, just enough to whisper: “I want to be human again.”

“Me too… me too…” She murmured against his lips, and he shivered.

Her lips, her skin, her scent, drastically different from his fantasies. Years ago, whenever she slithered into his mind, a crystal barrier engulfed his senses, cold with sharp edges, cutting through his skin.

Now, all he felt while moving his jaw against her was warmth warmth warmth.

That warmth intensified, no longer a comforting heat, but a scorching heat that awakened desires in Armin that he long put out. He shifted, not approving of his body’s reaction, uncertain of his rapid breathing, holding back his hands from trailing any further.

Annie wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders, holding him in place.

And he didn’t hold back any longer.

His hands going up and down her back, barely reaching her hips before they go up again. The kisses sloped and their lips barely touched because their movements morphed into frantic touches, striving to touch as much as they could from each other with clothes still a barrier between them.

That was when Annie pulled away, held Armin’s face in her hands, and whispered breathily: “I want to feel human,” her fingers brushed his bangs off his forehead, “just one time, I want to feel human one more time.”

Looking into her eyes, Armin’s thoughts banging in his skull, deafening his surroundings, but he knew what he wanted, he knew that for so long.

He got up, stretched his hand towards her.

With clutched hands, they sought a distance-safe cabin, private from eavesdropping ears and sneaky eyes.

With a click, the door locked, and their hands were all over each other once again, but this time with the comfort of a bed behind their bare backs, and the walls of the cabin to hide behind.

Moans and whispered words, sounds, looks and touches.

Oh how long Armin had waited to feel Annie against his own skin,, he pressed every inch of his skin into hers, sharing the warmth radiating of her body, obliterating the memory of her encapsulated in frozen crystal, in a cold basement.

She was there, beneath him, lively as a human can ever be, squirming with pleasure, letting out incoherent words, his name slipping out of her every now and then.

He wasn’t aware that he was as messy as her, her name like a mantra on his tongue, his limbs shaking and his breathing trembling.

His hands on her body delicate yet firm.

Her breath against his neck erratic yet warm.

And they were lost in time and space, only focused on each other. The walls, the bed, all fading into a blurry unremarkable fog,

They made each other human again.

And then their tears mixed, alongside silent sobs and bursts of pleasure. The heat in the room accumulating with every passing second.

Then they saw stars, their grip on each other tight tight tight as they slumped on each other, holding one another, holding onto that moment.

Breaths calming down, as Armin pulled a blanket over themselves, hiding their lack of modesty. The temperature in the room cooling down...

A distant voice in Annie’s mind whispered:

Human human human…

For the first time in years, she was alive, vulnerable under a blanket with this man who taught her what human meant and felt like…

Her thoughts drifted off, as her eyelids fluttered shut. The last thing she saw was a smile on Armin’s face, as he muttered something… she couldn’t decipher his words, but comfort washed over her body. She nuzzled her head in his chest, placing a kiss over his heartbeat, feeling her own heart pulsates warmth in her veins.

Armin watched Annie falling asleep in his arms, his own eyes fighting against closing. He found himself muttering three words he never imagined he would have the chance to say out loud to her…

“I love you…”

When her breaths calmed and quietened, he pulled her closer to him, kissed her head, and joined her in the still, silent sleep, a peaceful moment in their chaotic world, that was engraved in their minds for as long as they lived.

I hope you guys enjoyed this!!

this was a request from an anon on, and this is the first time I ever write a request uwu

I hope it was good enough!!

anyway, with manga ending... too many emotions...

but ANYWAYYYY

I'd love to write more requests, so if u have any, you can leave them in the comments or send me an ask uwu

Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated

thanks so much for reading!!

#aruani #thanks so much anon uwu #I loved writing this sooooooo much!!#Armin Arlert #Annie Leonhardt #armin x annie #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3

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loudsuitlover · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry XXXII. The End of the Road

A/N: This is it folks! The end of the road... I want to thank you all for every message and for that, especially my love anon (now not anon anymore) because seriously you’ve been the wind blowing on my sail.

Also like I’ve said, I’m all in for blurbs into Harry’s and Indie’s life together so I might surprise you with some when you least expect them ;) Thank you thank you thank you

BLUE’S POV

My hands are sticky and trembling as I wait on the line. The dim lights really give the café such a cosy sense to it and the dark brown of the furniture and the bricks also make it look like you were inside an auburn tree. It also smells delicious, like cookies and cinnamon and berries deliciously mixed with the strong scent of coffee.

My heart stops beating as I stand before her with just the desk and the vintage looking cashier between us. She hasn’t yet looked at me when she asks.

“What would you like to have, dea-?”

Her tone dies down when her hazel eyes finally set on me and mine investigate hers as I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Indie.” She whispers.

I give her a timid smile. Dylan’s mum calls someone named Molly and asks her to take care of the cashier as she comes out from behind the desk. She’s wearing an apples-pattern apron tied around her waist and her hair, shorter now than ever, is barely coming out of a low ponytail on the back of her neck. She lets out what could be described as a nervous chuckle when she stands closer to me. I can tell she doesn’t know how to greet me so I give her a hug. Her arms wrap around me and I feel her sighing against my chest.

“Let me get us a cup of coffee and a muffin.”

I stand there watching her work and hold the cute lilac plate with the huge muffin when she tells me and she takes both our coffee cups with tiny plates underneath to a table near one of the windows. It’s raining outside but it’s nice to watch and hear the rain from inside the café. The fire is lit so it’s nice and warm inside too.

“The place looks lovely, Amalia.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. “You look stunning.”

I smile at her before I add some sugar to my coffee and stir it with my teaspoon. She does the same.

“It’s very nice to see you. This muffin right here is called Indie Blue.” She grins. “It’s got vanilla and blueberries.”

I nod and smile at her but I’m sure she can tell my eyes get teary. I don’t deserve this. The fact that after three years, Dylan’s mother still makes a muffin and names it after me, when all I’ve done is… Move on just breaks my heart.

“How are you, love?” She sets her hand over mine. “Tell me about Med school.”

“I’m good.” I lie. “Med school is fine. It’s getting harder every year but I like it more every year too so that’s good. I feel like we’re all growing up so fast though. I mean Olivia’s leaving, Jason too…”

It almost surprises me how I can still talk to her as if we were family. I guess in a way we are. We went through the loss of Dylan together. She helped me and I think I helped her too, so I think we will always be somehow connected.

“Where are they leaving?”

She grabs a fork and eats some of the muffin after she took the paper of it and I eye the fork she set in front of me. Her kind eyes don’t leave mine and she looks so much like Dylan, even though the colour of their eyes is different, the way they look is the same so I can’t look into her eyes for too long. They look at you as if you were the most interesting person in the room, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying, you can talk about garden dwarfs and still be interesting to them.

“Olivia’s going to Paris. She’s very excited. She wants to be a gynaecologist and she got an internship on the maternal unit so she’s very happy. And Jason’s going to the States. He’s only going to be gone for three months, thank God.” I chuckle.

“Not long.” She grins.

“What about you? How are you and Robert?”

“We’re good, yeah. Robert’s back on the road. He went back last year and I’ve been good, pretty busy with the café and the organisation.”

My eyes drop to the muffin between us when she mentions that and I take a forkful and bring it to my mouth.

“I’m also babysitting now. D’you remember the Holts next door?” I nod. “Well, they had a baby and I stay with her sometimes.”

“Nice. I bet she’s cute.”

“She is so cute, so chubby too.” She giggles.

I giggle and fear the moment when our conversation will die enough so that she would ask me why I came. I don’t need a reason to come see her and I could always say I just wanted to catch up with her, but this woman knows me like my Mum does and I know she knows there’s something I want to tell her.

She asks me about my Mum too but I know they still talk and she tells me about Caroline, Jess and Sean. She keeps in touch with them too and it’s nice to hear life’s good for them. Sometimes I’m sad I lost contact with them after Dylan’s loss but it was just too hard to see them. It was like I couldn’t stop thinking about who was missing.

“How are you, really, Blue?” She asks.

I know what she means. I take a deep breath. There goes nothing.

“I met someone.”

My voice croaks and I didn’t know the tears were so close to falling until they roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away and try my best not to sob and even though her eyes are teary too, her hand rests on mine again and her thumb caresses the back of my hand.

“I’m very happy for you.”

My eyebrows meet and I shake my head. I knew she would be.

“I just wish I could talk to him. I want to tell him I haven’t forgotten about him. I never will…” I let the tears roll down my cheeks. “I love him but… I’ve just been… So lonely and it’s been so hard and I wasn’t looking for him, he just… Showed up and… I don’t know, I guess you’re the closest thing I have to Dylan now… And I needed to take this off my chest, to explain myself to you, I… I wish he hadn’t died, I wish that every day, but he did and I have to stay here and live without him and I thought I had to that alone but… Maybe I don’t?”

“Indie, Robert and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. We love you. And so did Dylan, I know he did, but like you said, you have to live, darling.” She smiles. “He’d be happy.”

I can’t hold it in anymore so I hide my face behind my hands and full on cry. She brings a chair next to mine and wraps her arm around my shoulders and just let me cry like she has done so many times before.

“I miss him.” I confess. “There are so many things I want to tell him every day, you know. I want him to see that Coco’s in love, that I got an A in Paediatrics, that Rio is working at the bank.”

“He is seeing that.” Her arm squeezes me closer to her. “He’s taking care of us. I know you miss him, honey. So do I, but he would want us to go on.”

“Yes, I know.”

“He would be very proud of you. I hope you know that.”

“I just want him to know I love him, I always will, even if I love someone else. It doesn’t change who he is to me.”

“I know.”

She gives me some tissues and I cry over her son’s absence as she rests her cheek on my head and caress my arm. She’s always been a lot stronger than I am and she’s always been a rock to rest upon when I felt I couldn’t go on anymore. When I calm down enough, she sits back in front of me and gives me a small smile.

“Will you tell me about him?”

I can see him in her and somehow by telling her, I feel like I’m confessing it to him too.

“There’s not much to tell now” I raise my eyebrows “it didn’t work out.”

“What? Why?”

I shake my head and shrug as if I didn’t know why when I perfectly know what happened. I tell her a little about him though and she asks mum-like questions and even laughs at some of the stories I tell her.

After about an hour of chatting, we both call it a day and I go home to my dad and siblings. I didn’t tell them the real reason why Harry didn’t come. I told them he eventually got caught up with work and if they didn’t believe it they pretended they did.

The Golden Girls have been checking on me daily but even though I’m heartbroken, I’m somehow calmed. I talked to Amalia and I told Harry what I needed to tell him so I guess I just have this feeling of having been honest with everyone and I don’t feel guilty anymore.

I’m brushing my hair on my pyjamas after the shower when Ollie calls.

“Hi, babe” she chirps. “How is everything at Capitol? How’s your dad?”

“Good.” I tell her. “Yeah, he’s doing great. You wouldn’t tell he had an aortic dissection.”

We both chuckle.

“I knew it. Your dad’s strong like a bull.” She giggles.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I got a call from Paris. Do you remember I did the interview on Skype?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, they just called me.” She sighs. “I got it.”

So she’s officially leaving. Oh, man, I’m going to miss her so much.

“Indie?”

“Yes.” I get my shit together. “Well, that’s great, Ollie! I’m so happy for you! I won’t lie to you, I’m going to miss you like crazy but I’m happy for you.”

“Maybe you don’t have to miss me…” She says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I rejected it.”

“WHAT? Where does this change of heart comes from?”

“I don’t know… I’ve just been thinking… Paris is so far away…”

Oh, no. She’s as head over heels in love as I am… It must be the time for us Golden Girls…

“You did it for Mario, didn’t you?”

There’s a certain silence on her end but I can hear her breathing.

“Maybe.”

I smile.

“So you guys are like together for real?”

“Yes… Aren’t we?”

I chuckle.

“Oh, no, don’t ask me! Did you two talk about this? Does he know you took the internship down for him?”

“Of course not! I didn’t do it for him! Olivia Bassot doesn’t reject internships for anyone! I did it for myself.”

“Because you want to be with him.”

“That’s right but still it was for me, not for him.”

“Okay, yeah, great.” I laugh. “May I know what made you change your mind?”

She sighs.

“Actually, I don’t quite know. It’s just when they told me I got it, I wasn’t happy, you know? So I thought wait, I don’t have to go, I don’t have to prove anything to anybody.”

“That’s right.” I smile. “I won’t lie, Ollie, I’m fucking happy.”

She laughs.

“Me too, babe. Now I gotta go, I’m telling Mario tonight. Wish me luck.”

“What do you mean wish me luck? He’s gonna be thrilled!”

“He better.” She laughs. “Anyway, gotta go. Love you!”

“Love you.”

Well, at least there are some good news. Wrapped up on my thick woollen stay at home cardigan, I make my way downstairs where I guess my family awaits. Rio’s reading a book near the fireplace and Coco’s walking towards the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” She asks me.

I shake my head and stare at the door from the bottom of the stairs. My dad shows up at the kitchen door and tells me he made pumpkin and sweet potato cream and I’m about to thank him when my sister opens the door.

“Blue, look who’s here!”

My mouth and my eyes open wide. My heart beats hard and fast against my ribs and my breathing stops until I feel tingling all over my skin.

It’s Harry.

“Hello, Blue.”

I deflate like a balloon when I hear his voice and my breathing resumes. I almost have to hold on to the railing of the stairs so as not to fall. There he is, calm and unfaced, standing right next to my sister and looking stunning on blue jeans and a dark brown sweater underneath his opened grey coat. His hair is a messy mane of curls on top of his head but his warm signature dimply smile is nowhere to be found. That’s the only reason that I don’t run towards him and kiss him.

Hello, Blue. No hello, baby or hello, love. Hello, Blue. Anyone here in Capitol could have said that… But he’s here. He’s cold, but he’s here. That’s already something and I don’t know why I’m complaining.

“Oh, Harry!” My dad walks towards him and offers him his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Blue said you got caught up with work.”

His green eyes search for mine before he looks back at my dad. I don’t know what he’s thinking.

“I was indeed caught up with work but… I got off the hook last minute.”

“That’s great! Isn’t that great, Blue? But get in here!” My dad urges me. “Greet him, honey.”

I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair as I walk closer to him. Harry doesn’t take his eyes off me but he’s seemingly unaffected by my presence. I’m afraid of his greeting. If he flinches I might cry. I don’t know whether he read my note or not but if he did, I don’t know why he’s acting so cold and if he didn’t, I don’t know why he’s here.

Coco’s closed the door after him and I see a small trolley behind him. My heart warms up at the thought that he came to stay. When I get to him, the habit takes the best of me and my lips search for his but he discreetly pulls his face away and instead gives me a hug. I don’t know if he did it out of respect for my dad or because he didn’t really want to kiss me. Something tells me it’s the second.

His hug is short and superficial and when he pulls away I feel like crying. His green eyes avoid staring into my own and I wonder if he came all the way here just to torture me with his coldness and distance. As I turn around, I see Rio standing a few feet behind me.

“This is my brother, Rio. Rio, this is Harry.”

“Hi, mate.” Rio shakes his hand and Harry gives him a lips closed smile.

When my brother pulls apart, Coco slips her thin, woollen covered body and gives Harry a hug. He gives her a dimply smile and I feel jealousy burning on my belly. What is he doing? That smile was for me!

“I’ll put another plate on the table.” Dad smiles.

My siblings follow him inside the dining room and Harry and I both hear the drawers opening and closing and plates and glasses being placed on the table.

“How did you know where my dad lives?” I whisper to him.

“I asked Olivia.”

With that he walks inside the dining room and I hear him asking Coco how he can help. Wait, so Olivia knew he was coming and she didn’t tell me anything? I literally just talked to her!

At least during dinner I get to sit next to him even though I doubt it was his choosing but rather where he was supposed to sit. I feel clumsy with my cutlery as I try to cut the steak. My Dad’s been asking Harry and me questions all dinner and Harry’s answered those about himself but has let me answer the ones about our relationship so he doesn’t have to tell everyone we’re nothing now, I guess.

My dad brings homemade yoghurt to the table and even after the sweetening effect of my dad’s dessert, Harry’s still distant and cold but he only punishes me. He’s all smiles and cavalry to my family and even Rio seems to like him.

“And Harry” Rio asks “do you know my sister Coco’s boyfriend?”

Coco rolls her eyes and blushes and Harry chuckles.

“Yes, I do.” He nods. “His brother works with me. They’re nice guys, good people.”

“Cool.” Rio nods. “Podrías traerlo tú también a casa, Coco.” (You could bring him home too, Coco.)

“Sí, claro. Harry es mayor que tú. No es lo mismo. El está a salvo porque no podrías con él, pero Guido tiene 21, como Blue. Te lo comerías con papas.” (Yeah, right. Harry is older than you. It’s not the same. He’s safe because you couldn’t take him but Guido is 21, likewise Blue. He’d have nothing to do.)

I don’t think Harry’s understand most of it, but I’m sure he got the part of Harry’s older than you and Guido’s 21 and he’s smart enough to figure out the rest.

Harry’s phone screen illuminates as he gets a text and my heart gets warm when I realize he at least hasn’t change his lock screen photo. I can’t help the grin.

“You didn’t send me that picture of the wedding.” I half whisper to him.

“Did you see them?”

“So there’s more than the one…”

He lets out a little giggle that warms my insides and makes me feel like a teenager.

“You meant my lock screen, right?”

I nod.

“Who took it?”

“The photographer. I think he had a thing for you.” He smirks. “He took lots.”

I look down at my empty yoghurt bowl and smirk. I think that was progress. Baby steps, but it’s better than the cold stare and the minimum hug he gave me when he got here.

After dinner, Dad moves the party to the living room and we all take seats on the couches and the armchairs by the fireplace. Harry doesn’t pay attention to me but my family doesn’t find it weird, mostly because they haven’t really seen us together before, but also because Dad and Rio seem so invested into learning about him. They find him as interesting as I do and I think Harry is at ease too, despite all the questioning. I can tell by his body language that he’s grateful for the way my family welcome him. His eyes avoid mine, but I can tell there’s gratitude on them too and I wonder if he’d ever look at me like he used to.

Dad gets up from his armchair and walks towards the record player and Rio and him start a conversation about which album to play. I take it as my chance to have Harry to myself so I jump from my spot on the coach and sit down next to him. His eyes warn me not to sit too close and most importantly not to touch him, so I keep my hands to myself despite my yearning.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

“Yes, I am. How are you?”

His interest both surprises and softens me and my heart flutters with hope.

“I’m happy you came.” I confess.

“I’m happy you invited me.”

His words are conciliatory but his tone is still dry and I can’t read his expression. His body is tensed though.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

I snort. He’s impossible. We both fall into silence after that and I wait for him to explain himself but he never does so I speak again.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“I am talking to you now.”

“Harry, please.” My bottom lips come out of its own accord. “Can you stop torturing me?”

His jaw clenches and he looks ahead, away from me. I swallow my willing to yell at him and look down at my feet. I feel belittled and abandoned and I hate that he’s so close and so far away.

“I… Did you read my note?”

Only then he tilts his neck so he’s facing me. His green eyes look at me and for the first time since he arrived, I can see the battle inside him. I can see the part of him who wants to forgive me, maybe there’s even a part that already has; but he’s still holding back. I can work with that, I can respect that.

“I am sorry. I already wrote that to you but I can say it out loud in front of my family if you want. I’ll do anything, please. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t want you to do that or to keep apologizing, even.”

“Then what do you want?”

I watch him blink. I can tell he’s flabbergasted. He probably wasn’t expecting this behaviour from me and quite frankly neither was I but after talking to Amalia and after getting the peace I needed, I need him to know I would really do anything to take back all the pain I’ve caused him.

“I want you to be fully honest with me and to be yourself for real.”

“Pardon?”

“No more lies, no more hiding things.” He whispers. “You tell me the truth and you tell me what worries you and you tell me when you’re scared and you tell me why. I’ll do the same. I think it’s a fair deal.”

I swallow. I can do that. I meant it when I said I’d do anything. If that’s what he wants, then that’s what he’ll get. I just hope he won’t run away when he hears it all.

“When are you planning on saying it to my face?”

I almost laugh. Is he serious? He came all the way here just to hear me say that? I didn’t think he would want to hear me say it with such fervour. Isn’t it obvious? Is it not enough to show it? Is it not best to show it? I would rather have someone never telling me they love me but showing me every day that the other way around.

But okay, I can do that too. If he wants me to say it that bad, then I’ll say it… But in my own way. From the corner of my eye, I can see my dad’s still busy with the records and Rio’s back on his book and Coco’s on the phone. No one’s paying attention to us. So I get closer to him and I act brave despite the fear of his rejection. He frowns but he gets visibly nervous and he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t pull away so I keep getting closer, like a kitten, and his eyes drop to my mouth. My lips look for his and Harry relaxes his face and for a moment it seems his guard is down and his lips part. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are set on my lips.

“Blue! I got an A on my essay!” Coco celebrates.

Fuck you, Coco! I mean- good for you but fuck your timing! Harry pulls away from me and I straighten my back despite the way my chest deflates. I give my sister a smile.

“Enhorabuena, hermana.” (Congratulations, sister.)

Dad and Rio congratulate her and ask her on her essay, as if they would understand anything of her engineering, and I try to gain back my reconciliation with Harry but he pulls back this time.

“Wait, Blue.” He whispers. “I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t touch you until you figure your shit out.”

Great. That could take years, genius.

It shouldn’t make me so frustrated. I remind myself of a dog in heat or one of those men that get mad when women reject them at bars. I frown and straighten my back so I sit farther away from him, but after a second I can’t take it anymore.

I stand up and without saying a word I make my way upstairs. Harry’s been all talkative to my family and ignoring me all night, they can show him to his room now or give him conversation. I don’t care anymore.

When I climb the stairs, I open the door to the balcony and make my way outside. It’s freezing out here before the mountains, so I turn on the heater and wrap one of the blankets on the basket between the couches around my body. Looking to the side, I can see my part of the balcony, the one that belongs to my room, and I remember last time I was here, when I sat there with Jason and we talked and talked about Harry and about Dylan and about the same fucking story once and again.

It was all for nothing. After all, it was all for nothing. I tortured myself with the thought that I was leaving Dylan behind, I looked at myself in the mirror and felt guilty and couldn’t recognize myself and all for what? All to be now sitting down all alone because the man who turned everything into a fucking mess doesn’t even want to touch me.

I hear the balcony door opening and my sister’s soft voice almost whispering she’s here and the next thing I hear are footsteps coming my way. The door closes and Harry stands beside me.

“It’s bloody freezing in here.”

I nod but don’t dare to look at him.

“Baby”

His tone sounds tired but the nickname makes my heart flutter. My eyes search his, desperately, and I think he’s done with giving me the hard look and the cold façade. I don’t like that Harry, that’s not him. Harry is kind and understanding and a good listener. He’s not harsh and hard and cold. That’s me.

“I think I’m acting like such a spoiled brat.” I confess. “You’re just giving me a taste of my own medicine and I don’t fucking like it. I didn’t really need you to show me how insufferable I am though. I already knew that.”

He sighs.

“Can we go somewhere alone and not freezing?” He asks. “We need to talk.”

I look into his eyes. He’s standing tall right next to the heater and I’m sitting down with my knees to my chest and the blanket around me. My heart is pounding on the back of my throat and I can feel my pulse on my brain.

“I love you.”

The words come out clean and clear, despite my nervousness, and my eyes don’t leave his until the weight of them fall upon us. That’s the first time I have ever said that to a man different than Dylan, that’s the first time I’ve meant those words in a romantic way after him. I can’t yet read him. He’s just looking at me and I don’t know whether on the inside he’s grinning or whether he’s about to cry.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” I am whispering now and I guess all my strength and my bravery have gone with those three words that got no answer.

“Is that why you said it?” He raises his eyebrows.

“No” I look down at my knees and think I’m about to cry “I said it because it’s true. I already wrote it down for you.”

He offers me his hand. I don’t understand his silence or why he is barely moving but I take his hand and he gives me a timid smile.

“Will you show us to your room?”

I leave the blanket a mess on the basket and walk with him towards my room. My dad played Miles Davis downstairs but I can still hear the fire and the keyboard of somebody’s laptop.

Once in my room, I take a deep breath and try not to think of what happened here before I met Harry. I try not to see Dylan on my bed, I try not to listen to his voice making fun of me for my decorations. Harry has a look around but he stands right there and he doesn’t move until I tell him he can.

“After your boyfriend passed away” he starts.

I feel my shoulders tensing and my breathing catching on my throat. No, no, no, no. I can feel his green eyes on me, studying me carefully, but I can’t look back at him.

“Did you go to therapy?”

I swallow. I don’t know why it is so hard to talk about this yet I manage to nod.

“How long for?”

“Two years.”

I see him nodding his head before he sighs. I guess he’s figuring out I’m actually really broken. I suppose if I hadn’t been to therapy, then he could hold onto that and he could say well she’s crazy now but she’ll get better but I bet after knowing I am actually the product of two years of therapy, he might give up.

“You said I wasn’t your second boyfriend. How long did you stay with him for?” I don’t answer. “How long ago was this?” He gives me some time to answer but I am still silent. “Why did you two break up?”

I am embarrassed to tell him and I don’t know why that’s even important. Javier is not something that bothers me. He’s in the past and I don’t think he has left any trauma in me and even if he did, Harry doesn’t have to worry about that. He is nothing like him and not even for a second have I doubted that.

“You’re not gonna speak?”

I want to fix things with him and I want to give him what he wants from me but I am embarrassed.

“Say something.”

“I don’t want to sleep here.”

The second I step out of the room, everything seems easier. I hear him taking a deep breath and sighing deeply before he follows me and when we enter the guest room in a second he’s behind me. His proximity covers my skin with goosebumps because I can feel his breathing against my ear shell and I can smell his scent and I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my mouth.

“When you found out about my shit you shut me out and I chased you day and night so you would let me explain. You were mad and, despite the way you treated me, I didn’t stop until I got you to listen to me because you’re important to me and I care. Now, you’re the one who’s hid something from me and instead of getting mad, I’m here, trying to get you to talk to me and you can’t even look me in the eyes.”

His proximity disappears as fast as it arrived and all he lets me se is his back as he sits down on the edge of the bed. I swallow and don’t know what to do. I look at him before my eyes set on our reflection on the glass of the window. He is looking down so he can’t see it but I can see us two and all of a sudden it’s like I know what to do.

Harry doesn’t deserve my silence. I owe him. I owe him a lot, even if he doesn’t know that, because in the last five months, I have laughed a lot more often and a lot harder and I have respected myself and I have actually wanted things. He gave that back to me and he deserves to see me, he deserves to know me and if after that he wants to leave, then I will take that but he will know who I really am.

I take a sit on the bed and cross my legs so my ankles hid underneath my thighs. I have never done this before outside of therapy and I don’t even know where to start. I take a deep breath.

“I met Dylan in this house when I was fifteen years old. Until then I had just been a posh spoiled girl like you thought I was when we met and, to be fair, I think if it hadn’t been for him, you would have been right on every stupid assumption you made about me that day in your kitchen.” I swallow.

“We started dating a year later but really I think I fell for him the very same night we met. I’ve had a… happy life. I mean before the accident. My childhood was good, my family never struggled and I was loved and wanted. I think I’ve always had everything I’ve wanted and still before I met Dylan I always felt like I was never in the right place. It was an uneasy feeling but I just never felt like I belonged anywhere. And then… He gave me that.

He didn’t think of me as a spoiled rich girl, he saw me and to him I was just… Indie. And he made me feel like the most interesting person in the world. I told him once when I was little my friends’ mothers wouldn’t let me play with Rio and the rest of the boys so I never learnt to climb a tree and he took me to his grandparents’ house and had me climbing to this huge tree on their backyard before he got the ladder down from his tree house.” I giggle nervously and hear Harry snorting a chuckle too.

He has turned around and is now staring at me and he’s silent but his body language has completely changed. I have his undivided attention.

“He was my first everything. My first love, my first boyfriend, my first best friend, my first time… And also my first fight, my first heartbreak and my first reconciliation and I guess… There was a part of me who wanted him to be the last too.”

I bit my bottom lip so it stops trembling and Harry patiently waits in silence until I get my voice back.

“When I left for Uni, he stayed in Capitol. His dad had cancer and his mum had to work so he decided to postpone Uni for a year or two until things got better. I admired him for that but then…” My eyes look away but now that I’ve started it’s like I can’t stop. “He changed. He became short-tempered and harsh and we started fighting a lot. I think he felt as if his life was stuck among cancer and poorly paid jobs while mine was moving forward and getting better and I was having fun when he was… I think he felt as if I have abandoned him and in a way, I…”

My face contorts and my throat closes on me to the point where my voice and my breath get stuck inside. I feel pain and guilt and embarrassment choking me and my eyes shut as hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks.

“I did.” I confess. “I was tired of being sad. Whenever I saw him, we ended up fighting and I saw my friends and everyone around me living their best lives and going to parties and I was just the girl with the sad boyfriend and I…” I shake my head. “I wasn’t there for him when he needed me.”

I take a deep breath.

“One day he came to see me and we had a fight and he left for hours. When he came back…” I lick my lips dry after all the talking. “He was high. That was the first time I saw him like that but then it all started to make sense: his mood-swings, his depression, his irritability… I tried helping him.” I wipe my tears and sob before I clear my throat. “I talked to his mum, to my parents, to his friends, to him… I asked for all the help I could get but… He wanted me to go with him to one of his new friends’ party. I didn’t like those people and I was trying to get him away from them because they all smoked and he wasn’t acting himself when he was around them…”

I swallow again but the lump in my throat is getting bigger and bigger and harder to swallow.

“So he went alone. I was in Grad. It was me who called him. I felt bad that I hadn’t gone with him to the party, even if they were the wrong crowd, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to be there for him… And… He was driving.”

I dare to look at Harry then. His green eyes meet mine but I can’t take it. It’s hard enough to tell the story, doing it under such intense stare would be impossible.

“I lost it.” Even if I had wanted to look into his eyes, everything gets blurry before me now as a new army of tears rolls down my cheeks again. “I begged him to stop the car, I yelled at him, I… I even said if he didn’t then I’d break up with him.” I sob. “And he was mad and he yelled back and then… I heard the crash.”

I stop and my eyes set on the wall. Harry’s hand gently rests on my knee and it surprises me that my body doesn’t react to it. My mind wasn’t expecting that and yet my body seems to be so used to his touch, it didn’t flinch or even jump.

“The doctors said he died on the spot so the last thing he heard before dying was a threat.”

I look at him expecting to find the judgement on his eyes. Maybe he’s disgusted by me. Maybe he thinks I’m a terrible person and he doesn’t want to see me again. But all I find is pain and sorrow and love. I frown.

“I was depressed for six full months after that and when I started talking again, I started going to therapy. I wish I were dead too.” I admit.

I can see the pain flashing through his green eyes but he lets me talk. He doesn’t shush me or tells me don’t say that and I love him for that. He lets me say and he lets me feel and I know he didn’t want me dead but he gives me this moment, he gives me this silence, these words. He lets me owe them.

“And somehow I was; some part of me was. I thought I was never going to feel even remotely close to how I felt when he was with me. For years I felt like I didn’t want anything. I just did things, but I had no desires. I wasn’t hoping for anything or even trying anything… I was just waiting… And it might sound ungrateful or selfish but I honestly was just waiting for the day I die. I felt like some part of me was already dead.

When I met Javier I wasn’t much better than that. It had been almost two years since Dylan’s accident and I guess I just wanted to feel something. We met at a club and fucked the same night and after that he was sweet at the beginning, I thought he was protective but really he was just jealous, possessive and controlling. He was… Bad. He was an abuser and he came across someone dead inside so he could do anything because I didn’t care and he did. He made me feel disgusting and fat and lazy and powerless but I guess in a way it was what I wanted. I have tortured myself for what happened to Dylan for years now. I feel guilty for not having been there for him enough… I guess part of me thought I deserved Javier to some extend… Until one day he tied me up to the headboard of the bed and left me there for three hours.”

Harry’s eyes horrified at that. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches but he still doesn’t say anything. I swallow and go on.

“I was done with men when I met you but you…” My voice croaks but I want to tell him. I think this is the most important part. “You said I could have blue cheese” I chuckle nervously and so does he “and I… I wanted to see you.” I don’t know why I’m crying now but I feel salty tears on my mouth and my voice croaks all the time. “I hoped you would be in your coffee break when I went to the cafeteria. I mean at the beginning it was just… Orgasms.” He laughs. “But even then, I felt… Alive. I felt my heart beating and the air on my lungs and I felt my blood rushing through my veins and then it was all the time. You look at me and my pulse accelerates and when you’re close my breath gets stuck on my throat and I don’t know what to say and my skin gets covered in goosebumps and my stomach does somersaults…”

I have barely taken a breath while telling him all that but now he’s blushing and his lips can’t help the small smile and his dimple is out and for a moment I thought I would never make him smile like this ever again.

“So… I got scared.” I shrug. “I got scared that I was forgetting about Dylan. I didn’t want to leave him behind. You know, I’ve… I’ve never been able to go to his grave. I don’t think I can see his gravestone.” My voice breaks and Harry’s hand moves from my knee to my shoulder. “I don’t… I can’t remember his voice.” I sob. “I could hear him on tape but I think it would make me depressed again.” I let the lump in my throat win for a second before I fight it again. “I just want to be able to remember him without feeling my heart break into a million pieces. I mean how long does grieving take? It’s been three years and I can’t talk about him.”

“Come here.”

I let Harry pull me to him and in crying to him about Dylan I find a comfort I never thought possible. His hand carefully and lovingly rub my back and his lips press soft kisses against my hairline. I don’t know how long for he lets me cry but he only pulls away when I’m sniffing and my breathing has gone back to normal.

His green eyes investigate mine for long seconds before he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“I don’t know how to say what I want to tell you without sounding harsh.”

I purse my lips. I don’t know either but I get ready to hear it. I know this is too much. He already said I had to figure my shit out before I was in a relationship and he didn’t even know all this shit so now he’s gonna leave for good. I understand. I wouldn’t wanna be with me either.

“When you were depressed, I suppose Coco was there for you, right?”

I nod but frown. I do not know where he’s going with this.

“Did that make you feel better?”

“Of course.”

“Did that heal you?”

I frown. I guess… Not. My doctor healed me, I healed me. Coco just loved me.

“You can’t love someone out of depression, Blue.” He states. “What happened to Dylan was a terrible accident and it’s normal that with accidents we always feel as if they could have been somehow prevented but that doesn’t help anyone.” He sighs. “Death is terrible but it’s also a part of life. We all have to die. Dylan was taken too soon and I can’t imagine what that felt like, baby… Really, I am amazed that you went through that and that you… survived that and came out this… Incredible.” His eyebrows raise on his forehead as his head shakes, as if he really was amazed. “And I am sorry for what I said to you. I wish I had known this sooner but I also wish I could take back the moment where I blamed you for your… Things. This is fucking hard and I wish I could tell you how long grieving takes but I don’t know, love. Yet you don’t have to do this alone.”

My heart restarts and my eyes search for the trap.

“You’re not going to leave?”

“Where?”

“I…” I shrug. “I thought this was going to scare you away.” I frown. “That you’d realize I have deep severe issues and you would just walk away.”

Harry frowns and it’s the first time a gesture of contradiction wakes butterflies up in my belly.

“Sometimes I don’t know who you take me for--.” He shakes his head. “I love you, Blue. And I want to see you happy. I love seeing you smile and laugh and I feel… Important when I make you laugh. You’re intelligent and kind and funny and mesmerising and beyond gorgeous and… So young, love. Why would I ever want to walk away from that?”

My eyes move frantically between his and I choose not to ask him whether he really thinks that. I decide I’ll try to believe him. He shakes his head. I think he can read my mind.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He smirks. “Could you please tell me what would be of your friends without you? Do you think Mario and Olivia would be together if it wasn’t because of you? Do you think Marie would have dared to go out with Adam? And what would be of Jason? You helped him get out of an abusive relationship. Do you know how hard that is?”

I guess he’s right. I do contribute on The Golden Girls.

“And what about me?” He chuckles. “You make me not hate myself.”

His green eyes bore into mine after he said that and I know the nodding of his head is just a way to try and swallow the lump on his throat. I can see the tears he’s holding back now.

“Before I met you, I was just waiting too and now I want to live and I want to love you and you’re gonna let me.” He persuades me so I giggle.

“Promise me you’re gonna let me.” He whispers.

“I promise.” I smile.

He nods, satisfied with my answer, and we both stare at each other smiling despite all the emotions we just shared.

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for you to be able to remember Dylan without feeling your heart breaking... But what I do want you to know is that I don’t think you need to stop loving him to love me or anyone else.” He shrugs. “I mean... When I think about widows remarrying, I never think of it as a bad thing, I don’t think it means forgetting... It just means... Your heart is big enough to love twice.” He smirks.

I let the tears roll down my cheeks and meet my lips.

“I don’t know why I thought you’d... Like... Not understand.” I shake my head. “I thought you might even get jealous.”

He frowns, like I was speaking some foreign language and it’s his little understanding that makes me smirk despite my tears.

“Getting jealous of that is like... I’m afraid it’s literally sick.”

I even chuckle.

“You’re strong and wonderful” he says “and I have no doubt you’ll get there. I hope it’s me the one you tell about Dylan without having your heart breaking too.” He smiles.

My lips are curled into a timid smile but my head is shaking because there’s a part of me that’s beyond happy, there’s another part of me that’s heartbroken, there’s another part that can’t believe someone this kind can exist; and in the midst of all these feelings, my mind doesn’t have control over my body anymore.

“I love you.”

I let my lips hug every syllable and my heart own every word. Harry’s lips curl until he’s grinning and I think I’ll tell him I love him every morning if he’s going to look at me like that.

I am not scared anymore.

I feel liberated and I love this man in a way that makes my heart skip every second beat. For the first time in three years, I feel like there’s not a single part of me that’s not full of life and love and plans and hope and calm.

“I love you too. And now get ready because I’m going to kiss you.”

The air leaves my lungs through a desperate smile as his hands rest on the mattress next to my thighs and he gets closer to me.

“I’m ready.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles and reader #harry styles love #harry styles #harry styles new

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dragonsateyourtoast · 4 years ago

Text

Special thanks to @owl-in-a-top-hat for their support of social justice! They requested something from the Calliope's Tale universe, and I am happy to oblige. Sorry this took so long - it got a little lengthy, haha! And then I had to rewrite the entire end of it because tumblr decided to delete my edits.

Her name was Miyei, and she was the queen of the sea.

No nation could capture her. No navy could break her fleet's formation. There was no ship upon the seas of the world that could - or would - best her.

This was in the old days, before the Midnight Sun and Calliope, before the Crown and their vile trade, before even Buroni Hakir and its law of fealty. This was when those that could conquer the waves were considered strong as the gods themselves, able to tame the water beneath and the wind about.

Her name was Miyei.

A fleet of five hundred ships, she had. A fleet that no coastal village could stand up against. No port could deny them. They could blockade a nation if they wanted, and vanish into the Topaz Islands the next day, invisible amongst the thousands of tiny stones jutting from the sea, the coral reefs that lurked beneath them. The Islands belonged to Miyei and her fleet, and everyone knew it. No one could navigate it like she did. No one had ever mapped its intricate formations.

Inside the islands, Miyei was safe. Until she wasn't.

Perhaps it was her hubris and disrespect that brought Kulari's wrath down upon them, or perhaps it was just chance that coaxed a hurricane from the southeastern waters and sent it roaring to the coast in a day and a half. Whatever the truth, even Miyei's seers did not sense its approach, not until it was too late. The hurricane burst over the Islands like an angry god, ripping the trees from their stones and ripping the fleet apart. She mobilized them as soon as it appeared on the horizon, but they weren't fast enough. Perhaps half the fleet escaped. The other half was too slow to run, or they thought the Islands would shelter them. That was not true - the Islands simply gave the storm something to batter them against.

Miyei's flagship, the Blue Bone, was one of the ones caught behind. When the hurricane came, it tore her ship to shreds beneath her and threw her into the ocean like a ragdoll.

This is it, Miyei realized, as she saw the stormlight fading above her, the water dragging her down. I will be no more.

To her surprise, she awoke some time later, laying atop a flat piece of wood in the water. When she scrubbed the salt from her stinging eyes, she realized she was afloat on half of a ship's deck, in the calm, cloudy blue water of the Islands. She didn't try to stand, just squinted around at the world.

There was something watching her at the edge of the deck.

Miyei scrambled back from a creature with eyes so dark brown they were almost black and skin almost as dark as its eyes, head resting on its crossed forearms. "Stay back!" she shrieked, grabbing for something, anything - a piece of metal tied to the deck, anything. She held it out in front of her like a sword, shaking hands pointing the sharp tip towards the creature.

She'd seen merids before. But never this close. "Stay away from me!" she shouted, and the merid, finally, slid backwards into the water and disappeared.

Miyei took stock of her surroundings. Ship deck, metal piece, and a few of the islands in sight. But she didn't have any way to paddle her raft to them, and she didn't know if she would be able to swim all the way to one of the nearer blots of rock. For several hours, she tried to construct something, all the while well aware of the blistering heat of the sun and the lack of water.

Towards midday she sat down. "I am going to die here," she murmured, and wondered if she ought to just let Zzoriel take her now for the reef.

A laugh came from beside her. She sat upright, eyes wide, and saw again the merid beside her. "Stay-" she started, but the merid interrupted her by pulling a parrotfish out of the water and tossing it onto the deck.

The merid - mermaid, from the looks of it - just watched as Miyei carefully stole forward and touched the fish. It was dead, freshly so. "I..." Merids couldn't speak; that was ridiculous. Still... "Is this... a gift?"

"Is it?" The mermaid said, and disappeared again.

Stunned, Miyei sat down hard on the salt-crusted wood. Xikaal grant me the breath in my body and salt in my tears, what? she thought. But... I've never heard a merid speak before! They, they can't...

No. Now was not the time for pondering. She didn't have a fire to cook it with, but a fish was a fish, and the one thing that hasn't been torn from her in the hurricane was her knife, a coral-handled iron blade that gleamed bright silver in the sun. She stripped as much flesh from the fish as she could and savored it.

By the evening, she still hadn’t found a way to get herself to the nearest island in the chain. She didn’t even know where in the chain she was, though she had a vague idea - she knew the shapes of individual rocks poking above the water. But... she couldn’t reach them.

At nightfall, she waited to see if the mermaid would come back. When she spotted a flash of brown under the water, she went still and silent, until the mermaid’s dark head poked up above the swell.

“Listen,” Miyei said, speaking quickly in case she darted off again. “I am a pirate queen. Anything you want, I can give to you, if you get me back to the islands.”

“A queen,” the mermaid scoffed. “Really? With what nation?”

She can speak! She can really speak! Where did she learn?! Never mind, that doesn’t matter. “I’m powerful enough to build my fleet back up if I can get to an island with enough wood and sticks to build a raft back to one of my strongholds.”

The mermaid watched, leaning on the edge of the raft. It tipped perilously; Miyei swayed to keep her balance. “Sure,” the mermaid drawled. “Whatever.”

And she was gone. Miyei sat down again, frustrated, but she didn’t come back that night.

The pattern repeated the next day. The mermaid gave her a fish; Miyei tried in vain to make some kind of sail, or paddle or something that could get her moving. But one of the things that made the Topaz Islands hers was her wind-magic sailors, the ones that could power the ships through this unnaturally calm area, usually so untouched by Kulari’s breath. There was no breeze to sail by.

That night, the mermaid came back. “You must take me to an island,” Miyei ordered her, rage bubbling in her chest. “You must!”

“Or what?” the mermaid asked. “You’ll kill me? Out here, it’s you who’s in danger. I’m doing fine.”

Miyei seethed, but she was right. “You will take me to one of my strongholds, or I will kill you,” she snapped.

The mermaid stared at her, then shrugged and slid under the water. Miyei this time charged forwards to the edge of the raft, that sharp piece of metal in her hand, and stabbed it down into the water. Nothing. Of course not.

Then the mermaid’s hand closed around the metal and tugged hard, and Miyei overbalanced and was dragged into the sea. The water was cool to the touch, and she automatically shut her mouth and held her breath, trying to right herself - but strong hands grabbed onto her and held her in place, one over her mouth, one around her torso and arms, locking them down. The mermaid was behind her. Miyei knew instantly that she could not escape, but she struggled anyway.

“You’re foolish,” the mermaid told her, voice clear in the water, somehow. She just held Miyei, below the surface. Miyei knew she could hold her breath for four minutes, but she hadn’t been prepared, and she knew the merid could out last her. “Do you want to stay down here with me? Is that it?”

No! Miyei struggled, shaking her head.

“Then get out of my ocean.” The mermaid released her. Miyei flailed, then kicked upwards until she broke the surface, gasping for breath, and pulled herself back up onto the wooden raft.

The next day, at midmorning, she sat down on the planks and called out, “What are you doing?”

No answer. Miyei narrowed her eyes. “I know you can hear me,” she shouted, voice ringing over the waves. “What’s your plot, here? Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

The mermaid surfaced next to the ship and leaned on it again. “I want you to stop ruining my islands,” she said, conversationally. “You have cannons and swords. My people do not, except of ocean glass and stone and coral. We can’t beat you in a fight. So we’re forced to negotiate with you, except you people won’t listen unless we make you listen. It’s an opportunity.” She shrugged.

Miyei glared at her. “Well, fine, you have my attention,” she snapped.

“Good. Promise to leave the islands alone forever, and I’ll take you to a stronghold. Then you can clear your people out and leave.”

That... was absurd. But Miyei knew she wouldn’t be getting out unless she did this. Besides, she could just lie. “Deal,” she said.

“That was surprisingly easy,” the mermaid said, watching her face. “Too easy. You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not!”

“And there, too.” The mermaid shook her head. “That’s not a deal if you mean to break it. You just want to get back up on a ship where you’re safe away from me, and then you’ll continue parading around. Well, I’ll tell you this: we asked Kulari for help once, and we can do it again. If she gets tired of helping us, she’ll bother Athu about it. Then what? Then what happens to you, pirate queen?”

Miyei glowered at her. “I can’t leave the Islands,” she said. “They’re where my fleet needs to hide. It’s where we live.”

“I can tell you right now, we were here first,” the mermaid said, shaking her head. “We were here first, and we don’t care for you moving in and saying it’s yours.”

“I can’t just make them leave!”

“Yes, you can. You made them come here. You can make them leave here.”

“It’s not that simple!” Why am I even entertaining this thought? This creature wants me to destroy my entire empire! “You can’t just make people leave.”

“Well, I hope you figure out a way to do that,” the mermaid said. “When you do, I’ll be ready to tow you back to a stronghold, so you can enact your plan. Good luck.” And she disappeared again.

Miyei stamped her foot on the deck and swore several times, loudly. Curse this stupid merid! Curse that stupid storm! None of this was - none of this should have happened! Wretched, horrible merids, lurking underneath the waves and causing problems and now trying to take her Islands from her! No - she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave. She’d just have to - she’d just have to lie better.

She waited several hours, then called out again. “Fine,” she snarled. “I hate it. And I hate you. But I like living better. Do you hear me? I’ll adhere to your horrible conditions if you’ll only let me go!”

A disturbance in the water. Miyei strode over to the edge of the raft and stared down into the water. “Do you hear me?” she again shouted.

A hand shot out and clasped around her ankle, and with a shriek, Miyei was again dragged down into the water. She clawed at the boards, but all she did was get a splinter in one hand before she was dragged into the water.

The mermaid stared at her, holding her by the shoulder. “You just cannot bring yourself to be a good person,” she said, sounding irritated. “So I’ll have to force you to be one. I was really hoping maybe you’d just have the decency to listen and realize there are real people you’ve invaded here, but I should have known from your past habits that you’re not capable of such a thing, so I’ll have to play tour guide and hope my land can speak for itself. You disgust me.” With that, she shook her hair out of her face and sang out a few sharp, clear notes that made Miyei’s vision blur and go black. She felt her body involuntarily breathe in and shrieked - this creature was trying to drown her! - but the water just felt like thick, humid air, rushing into her lungs, and out again, taking her air bubbles with it. It stung, and hurt in her throat and nose, but after a few moments, she was forced to accept that it wasn’t killing her.

The mermaid was watching her when she opened her eyes. “If you climb out of the water, you’ll drown,” the merid said casually. “So I really wouldn’t recommend trying to get away.”

If it had been humans she’d been negotiating with, Miyei would’ve tried to escape. But this was a merid. And she’d done something to Miyei, something magical, and there was no way Miyei could count on her magic not killing her if she tried to break free. So she glowered at her and said nothing.

“Good! Great. Now, come on.” The mermaid grabbed hold of Miyei’s wrist and immediately towed her away from the raft.

There was so much more beneath the Islands than she’d realized. Miyei could swim, of course, and was familiar with reefs, but she’d never been one to go exploring around in them like some folks did. The seabed here went deeper than she expected in caves and crevasses, and the coral covered secret clearings of white sand and green seagrass. Her vision was unexpectedly clear down here, peering through the water, and the sunlight that reached down showed an extraordinary number of fish and corals hiding on and in the rocks.

But more impressive than that were the merids. Miyei had rarely ever seen a merid in the Topaz Islands - she’d assumed they were too shallow for them. But here, she saw them everywhere. Watching from behind rocky outcroppings, cloaked in the green sea-grass sprouting from the sand beds, tucked underneath a spur of coral just peering out at her. They all stared at her, and each had an expression of mixed curiosity and... hatred?

Why do they look at me like that?

“They hate you because they were here first, and you and your fleet moved in and started destroying everything,” the mermaid told her, conversationally. “You drop your anchors on our coral. You catch all the fish and leave none for us. You destroy things we create without even noticing, and you do not listen to us. These are where we raise our children. And you just sail on in and wreck the place. Can you see why we have a problem?”

Miyei tried to speak. To her surprise, she could, though it was hard, forcing water sluggishly through her throat. Her lungs weren’t used to this kind of effort. “Why... didn’t you mention this... before?”

“You don’t think we tried?” the mermaid snapped. “We tried! But nobody listens to sea monsters. I had to learn your horrible language in order to even get you to listen.”

“You could’ve... talked to us before.”

“No, I couldn’t have. You would’ve captured me in a net and put me in a tank for entertainment. Absolutely not.”

That... may have been true. Miyei winced. You don’t use people for entertainment. But I didn’t know they were people, she thought, and grimaced, and said nothing.

“You look uncomfortable,” the mermaid said, with a kind of grim satisfaction. “Good! You should be.”

She continued to drag Miyei after her, downwards, towards a large hollow in the rocks. It led to a soft sandy area, where several mer-matrons carefully watched a few chubby, awkward-looking blobs go floating about. Baby mermaids, Miyei realized, staring at them. They were... very strange looking. Weirdly similar to human children, except for the gills and the heavy, fleshy tail.

“Oh, yes, we have children,” the mermaid commented. “I know, astonishing. It’s almost like we’re people who come from somewhere.”

“I get it,” Miyei grumbled. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t.” The mermaid turned, staring at her. “You don’t get it. We live here. You tried to steal our home from us, and you’ve been succeeding this whole time. You need to leave here.“

“But where... do we go?” Miyei asked.

“That,” the mermaid sniffed, “is not my problem. There are other islands to live on that don’t have our ancestral birthing grounds underneath them. Go use those.”

The mer-matrons had gathered together in a little group, warily watching Miyei and the mermaid. The mermaid sighed and called out something in a searing, hissing language that made Miyei’s ears hurt; the mer-matrons responded, their voices deeper and stronger, and stayed where they were.

“What’s your name?” Miyei asked.

“Ah, finally!” The mermaid turned back to her. “Finally you ask! I was really wondering how long it would take you to realize I probably have a name.”

“I get it, alright?” Miyei snapped. “There’s no reason to keep on me like this. I get it!”

The mermaid glared at her. “You couldn’t pronounce my name if you tried,” she snapped. “It’s Skreshkaiurhsra. You can call me... let’s go with Resh.”

Miyei took a deep breath (of... water. It still unnerved her) and let it out. He crew on the Blue Bone answered to her because she was just and fair to them, and because she punished anyone who broke her rules. If - if - she got out of this mess, she knew, she’d have to adhere to the merids’ demands, or face the same punishment.

And... she didn’t realize there were kids down here. Children.

“Resh,” she said. “Right. I’m Miyei. So to get home, what do you need me to do?”

Resh wouldn’t let her go that easily. She casually assured Miyei that the magic wouldn’t wear off any time soon and told her to help out. The storm had ripped some of the reef apart - the merids were trying to repair it as best as they could.

It wasn’t natural, Miyei was told. The reef was cultivated, kept at its most beautiful and healthy, by the merids who lived here. Some were here all year round to maintain it, and others came and went, coming here to give birth to their children, leaving later once they were grown. “Like turtles,” she said, “but, you know, awake in the thoughts.”

Awake in the thoughts. The thing that Miyei had thought merids weren’t.

It was easier to lift stones and coral underwater, but Miyei wasn’t as quick swimming as the merids were. A single flick of their tails, and they were gone; she had to drag herself through the water. She didn’t belong here, and it was obvious. For days, she struggled to keep up with the merids, doing what they asked of her - she had no choice! And by the end of a week, the younger mermaids (not the babies, but the children) were brave enough to whirl around her, taunting her in their weird language.

“Go away,” she snarled at them, a time or two, feeling her face flush. She didn’t like being made fun of.

“Aww, they’re having fun,” Resh said, appearing behind her. “They aren’t faster than the adults. Let them mock you.”

“Why?!”

“Because they’re children, and they’re having fun,” Resh replied. “Honestly. Were you ever a child, or were you born grumpy?”

Miyei was worried about her fleet. The Blue Bone had been destroyed, she knew, and half her fleet with it. Where were they now? Had they chosen a new captain, a new queen? Would they try to find her? Or would they assume she was gone? Where was her life now, all remnants of it sunk beneath the waves? And myself with it, she thought, looking up to the glittering surface far above. I’m down here, too.

No one came looking for her. It was as if the world above the surface ceased to exist. Everything was the ocean: the coral, the merids, the water that she breathed. Everything. The ocean became the only thing that mattered. Two weeks. Three. A month. Two months.

The merids stopped being so afraid and wary of her, after a time. She’d long since lost that piece of metal, and she didn’t use her knife as a weapon - it was a tool, nothing more. They even seemed to be okay with her presence around. Resh almost seemed to like her.

And then the storm.

It was sudden. The first news they got of it was a crack of thunder over the ocean miles away that they could hear, even from the caverns. All the merids started, and looked up; Miyei, who’d picked up a little bit of their language, could understand what they were saying. A storm? Approaching? They hadn’t thought there would be one. Merids could feel when storms came. But they hadn’t felt this one.

She swam out of the cavern and found Resh as quickly as possible. “There’s a storm coming,” she told the mermaid, as if she didn’t know.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Resh said, but her face was more worried than irritated. “That shouldn’t happen. And we didn’t call that.”

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some of your old friends, who knows.”

The storm came. Miyei had never seen a storm from below before. She thought that perhaps the wind would be dulled underwater, that it would simply be a lovely light-show. She couldn’t have been more wrong. The water became her enemy, roaring, twisting, tearing sand and plants up from the seabed. Fish hid inside the rocks and corals, but even those weren’t safe. The water ripped at the reef like a sea serpent.

Resh hauled boulders in front of a cavern where several merid families had fled for refuge. "Bring more!" she bellowed when she saw Miyei. "Seal it up, keep them safe!"

"I will," Miyei called back, and then the storm ripped away any further words she could have said. She had a split second to think before a wave came roaring in. A whirl of water caught a rock and sent it hurtling away towards the mermaid.

The last thing Miyei remembered was trying to warn her. "Resh!" She remembered shouting, and then there was water, and sound, and -

Miyei woke on the shore. Wet sand on her cheeks. Air blowing above her. When she raised herself up, she was seized by a fit of coughing and choking; water in her lungs trying to escape, to be replaced with air. Air. I’m alive. I’m on land.

There were voices in the distance. Miyei dragged herself to her knees - she was so heavy, so clumsy here! - and spat up water. It didn’t sting like she thought it would.

Voices drew closer, and Miyei sat back on her heels and turned her face to the sun. She breathed in, deep - deeper than she should have. The air felt like nothing. She breathed too much, and it sent her coughing again.

By the time she recovered, she was surrounded by people. “Queen!” someone shouted. “Queen, Kulari’s breath, you’re alive!“

Those must be from her fleet. Her crew. The ones that made it out before the storm. She tried to breathe lightly - had it always been this easy? No, she was simply used to the water, which resisted her, which supported her, not this place of air and dead sound where she had to drag herself along through nothing - and looked at them.

“Queen,” one of them started, and then the words died in their mouth. They stared at her, eyes wide, faces pale. Miyei paused. Something was wrong. She raised a hand to her face.

She hadn’t noticed it before, not with how heavy she felt freed from the tides, but there was a strange weight to her head. She ran her hand along her face, her cheeks. There was a strange, smooth ridge of hard bone rising from her cheeks, sweeping up above her ears. There, again, alongside her eyebrows - and from her forehead as well.

Miyei staggered to her feet and turned towards the nearest sailor. In one swift movement she lunged forward and grabbed for the hilt of his blade, unsheathing it fully. He yelped and leaped back, but she only raised the sword and stared into the mirror-bright blade.

Coral. It was coral. It split from beneath her skin and surrounded her face like a portrait frame, or a halo, hanging about her head. It was oddly smooth for coral, and solid, but there was no mistaking that intricate patterning or that dull olive green color.

Miyei stared for a moment longer, then dropped her hand and threw the blade into the wet sand. It stuck point-first and hilt-up, quivering where it landed. “Gather everyone,” she rasped, her voice rough with salt and sand. “Every ship. We empty the strongholds. No one remains in the Islands after three days’ time.”

“What?” said one pirate, staring. “Queen, we can’t -”

“We can,” she interrupted him, a low growl. “Every person here leaves. Do you understand me?”

“Queen,” someone started, and she whirled to face them, her black hair flying around her. Sand sprayed onto the ground. The sailor went quiet.

“Good,” she said. “Let’s go. I need a new ship.”

Miyei looked to the water. It glittered so bright it nearly blinded her, but she swore for a moment she caught sight of a dark-haired head vanishing between one swell-peak and the next.

The Topaz Islands are a sacred place. They are holy by all of the goddesses of the sea, protected by a living fleet that has held its vow for thousands of years. No nation can capture them. No fleet can break through their waters. There is no ship upon the sea that may enter them and live to tell the tale.

The fleet that guards them is eternal, and its captain, they say, has been alive since its founding. They say that instead of blood she has saltwater and kelp-fiber. They say that she speaks the merids’ tongue. They say that if you intrude into the place she has given her soul to protect, that even Kulari’s blessing could not protect you from her retribution.

Her name is Miyei, and she is the queen of nothing, for the sea itself needs no crown.

#Calliope's Tale #ctverse #writing #writeblr #UGH sorry for the mishap #had to EDIT ALL THE DRAFTED WORDS BACK IN #because TUMBLR DELETED THEM

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conaionaru · 4 years ago

Text

The Drowned girl

No fear

Synopsis: Siggy leaves Kattegat for the first time, setting out on a journey of a lifetime. But of course danger follows as well

Warnings: violence, shit parenting (Bjorn), child abandonment, language, canon divergence

Tags:

@pieces-by-me

I don’t own the gifs.

Siggy stood at the side of the ship, holding onto a rope for stability. The wind ruffled her neatly braided hair and her new cloak. Floki stood proudly at the head of the boat, watching all his ships sail to Kattegat's docks so everyone else can come aboard as well.

Never before did she feel so light; all those times she leaped off high places was nothing compared to this. She felt like soaring in the sky, leaving behind Kattegat and all its shadows.

The people on the docks looked so small from up here, just spots that would soon be left behind. With a grin, she ran past the other sailors and Floki. "Siggy!" Warned Helga while the girl sprinted up the dragon's head and jumped onto the docks, giggling like a madwoman.

The docks were packed with people saying goodbye to their families. She could see Bjorn and his family, as well. How she loathed them all, looking happy and like a proper family. Someone nudged her shoulder.

Floki wiggled his eyebrows at her and jerked his head towards the Ragnarssons and Aslaug. "Say goodbye to Sigurd. We will not wait for you forever." Siggy rolled her eyes at him and skipped over to Sigurd.

The snake-eyed prince grinned at her and waited for her to reach him finally. "Don't die stupidly." He whispered into her ear in the middle of their tight hug. Siggy nodded against his neck and gripped his tunic tighter.

"You won't survive a day without me, Uncle Sigurd." He hit her over the head and glared at the title he hated so much.

"Go. The sight of you disgusts me."

"At least I don't look like a flock of raven's attacked my hair."

Sigurd touched his hair and glared at her remark. His hair was a touchy subject for him. Truth be told, it wouldn't be so touchy if he used a comb once in a while. But Siggy hates that torture device as well, so she won't judge too much.

"Be safe, Little Sig."

"You too, Sig."

She turned on her head and walked back to the boat, shouldering past Bjorn, who watched her with dark eyes. He always observed her, especially when she was happy. It seemed to offend him to some extent. But that was his problem.

Siggy watched the world pass by, the gentle breeze like a lover's touch against her face - adventures first caress. "Off to Rome, we go." Helga chuckled at her side and ruffled her hair affectionately, joining Floki and Bjorn at the brow. Hvitserk threw an apple at her head, snickering when it hit her in the ear.

"And here I thought I could suffer you for longer," Siggy complained and stormed after him, twirling around the mast and people as Bjorn barked at them to calm down. He must be regretting taking them with him.

The blonde run-up to the mast and climbed up using a rope as support. Taking a deep breath, Siggy closer her eyes, and enjoyed the more windy place. She could hear Helga warning her to be careful and Floki giggling as she stood on top of the sail.

Slowly she opened her eyes and grinned at the beautiful sight before her. The clear water with loads of boats on it seemed like the perfect place to be. She was meant to be here all along. Sailing the world and proving to the gods that she deserved to live. "Try to strike me down now..."

For all the love for traveling, Siggy felt, sailing there just took too long. Frankia was just within reach, and she had no desire to see Rollo. Floki talked of him sometimes - the traitor to his kind. What good would the man be? Raiding the towns and murdering those who attacked would be easier than striking a deal.

"Are you going to try and contact uncle Rollo?"

The silence that followed Hvitserk question sent shivers down Siggy's spine. Bjorn made his decision long ago, and no matter how everyone disapproved, he won't change it.

The Frankish boats met them head-on, warning bells tolling in Paris to announce their coming. When they docked, Bjorn chose men to go with him to meet with Rollo. To her great annoyance, Siggy was left behind because she can't "behave," whatever that's supposed to mean.

"If we get attacked, we will need all the fighters we can," Helga whispered to her, trying to brighten up her mood.

"And if they attack the envoys? What then?" Siggy seethed, watching the enemy soldiers lead everyone to the palace.

"Then Floki will fight his way out. You have not seen them fight. They will be alright." The young volva sighed and walked to the boat, and take out her arrows to sharpen them. It was a lie; Siggy had seen Floki fight. And Bjorn too.

Whenever Bjorn came over to visit Floki and Helga, Siggy sneaked off to spend some time alone. But the sun was already setting, and she felt lonely. Sigurd was sick, so he was home with Aslaug and Ivar. Floki was busy with the plans for the boats.

She wanted to train to become a great shieldmaiden. If she was meant to travel the world, as Floki said, she had to become the best fighter out there. Not cook or collect herbs with Helga.

Her destiny was laid out on the water and foreign lands, not in the forests of Kattegat. But at least the knowledge of herbs was useful for something. Making a sacrifice to the gods, for instance.

With a small skinny knife, she cut off bark from an oak and brought it to her little pyre made of twigs and dry grass. She lit the fire using two stones and blew into the flames, hoping the fire would grow.

When the flame was big enough, she stopped blowing and stepped back, looking at her gathered ingredients. "Oak for strength, Edelwise for courage, Sage for wisdom, and Dill to protect me from evil." One by one, she threw the items in.

The fire would bring the offerings to the gods, and they would protect her from now on. They have been cruel to her until now - abandoning her just like her parents, nearly letting her die. All because she was never acknowledged by her father - a bastard in everyone's eyes.

But that would change the moment she became famous; she would be like Ragnar. Then no one could call her a freak, failure, or insult her. They would all cheer for her, praise her and talk stories of her to their children. She wouldn't be Crazy Siggy or Siggy the Drowned girl. Instead, she could be Siggy the Great or Siggy Mighty.

The gods would accept her sacrifice and protect her from then on. She was a descendant of Odin, just like Ragnar. The gods should be on her side as well; she was a Völva and never turned her back on them! With a swift cut, Siggy cut open her palm and dripped the blood onto the fire.

"Hail All-father, Wise Warrior,

One-eyed wanderer, Come sit at my fire.

Tell me of your wisdom stories,

The scenes your missing eye sees. You who chooses the slain,

Look on my deeds and when my time comes

To run the sky with you,

Let my end be worthy of song.

In the meantime, let me feel

Excitement and poetry and fury and joy,

Let me understand sacrifice,

Think long, Remember well, And Journey Far.

Odin, Witness this."

The fire sizzled as Siggy watched it burn to the last amber, ignoring the world around her. She could feel herself grow lightheaded, and her ears grow deaf as she slowly faded. Her now milky white eyes watched the fire turn to ashes.

The scenery changed to a great ship out on the water, all alone as the water seemed to boil around it. Steam concealed everything around the vessel as thunder boomed above. On the boat stood a man made of light bound with chains sailing towards his doom.

Laughter broke her away from her vision as hands tugged at her neckline. Siggy startled and tried to break away from the dirty hands; three men stood around her. The one that was pulling on her tunic grinned, showing his rotten black teeth to her.

Siggy did her best to wretch away from him or stab him with the blade, but another man stepped on her hand. A crunch and a stab of pain made her cry out and pull her hand with two broken fingers to herself. The last one laughed at her panic and hit her own over her head to make her stop resisting.

When they were about to rip her tunic off an axe, hit him in the back of his head. Siggy shrieked in fright, and as he fell on top of her, blood seeping from his mortal wound. The two remaining men drew their weapons but were cut down as easily as their friend.

To her surprise, Bjorn beheaded the last man as Floki pulled the corpse off her. She shook on her spot and looked at the frantic man with tearful eyes. "What were you thinking wandering so far away? We told you there were berserkers in the woods."

She choked on her words and clung to him, rocking from side to side. He wiped the blood from her face with his thumbs, shushing her crying. Bjorn glared at her and stomped in front of her.

"Are you completely stupid?! Do you have any idea what they could have done to you? Your stupid fire attracted them here!"

"Quiet, Bjorn!" Floki snapped and made Siggy look at him.

Tears streamed down her face, her lips trembling in the aftershock. She leaned closer and whispered so the Ragnarsson wouldn't hear. "I made a sacrifice to the gods. I just wanted them to help me. So I could be a great traveler like you said I would."

Floki tutted at her and pulled her closer, hiding her face in his chest. Bjorn fumed behind them and gathered the men's weapons so no one else would find them. "I had a vision. I am sorry."

The boatbuilder pulled her back and shook her head slightly to make her pay attention. "There is nothing wrong with your visions. They are gifts from the gods, no matter how heavy of a burden they might seem. But never wander off so far without telling us. Do you hear me, Siggy?"

She nodded and let him pick her up like she was weightless. For such a skinny twig, Floki was strong from all the heavy work. She rested her chin on his shoulder, watching the dead bodies on the grass. Never before did she see someone fight like Bjorn. His fighting style was nothing like Floki's. It disgusted her how it intrigued her - how much she wanted to fight like him.

Siggy was growing antsy. The envoys have been gone for too long for her liking. So when she could hear footsteps from her spot on a tree, she notched her arrow and waited for the intruder to arrive. "Don't even try it, Little Menace."

She jumped from the tree and landed in front of Floki, grinning. Her eyes drifted to the tall stranger that joined them. He looked ridiculous in his orange tunic. "Who is the princeling?"

"My name is Rollo, Duke of Normandy."

Siggy looked at Floki with her head tilted to the side in confusion. "He is joining us. Now be quiet." Bjorn commanded and walked past her, not sparing her a glance.

"I hope the traitor slits your throat first!" She spun around and hit her chest with her fist, glaring at his retreating back. Helga took her by the shoulders and asked her how she has been, complimenting the yellow tunic that she changed into.

Of course, Helga didn't need to know that she only had to change because her old tunic was covered in mud from faceplanting into it. No one had to know that, in fact.

When the boats set sail again, Siggy watched the brother of Ragnar with wary eyes. He looked laughable in his clothes. So when Bjorn gave an order to drown him, she actually giggled in glee.

They pulled in the oars and tied up his hands and feet. Everyone watched as he was thrown in. Siggy enjoyed the view from the ship's head, Floki right under her. They pulled at both sides of the rope, trapping him under the boat, and halted at Bjorn's signal.

Siggy felt giddy at the thought of death so near her, even if there was not gonna be any blood. She will take what she gets and enjoy it too.

"Pull him up!"

Damn it, Bjorn! Siggy groaned and pouted at the boatbuilder, who looked as let down as her. When they pulled the traitor back up, he laid still before retching up the water that entered his lungs. Siggy pouted harder and jumped over his body as Bjorn gave the order to row. She could hear Rollo laughing but paid him no mind. Using Hvitserk's shoulder as support, she climbed back up the mast and watched the sixty ships sail away from the castle.

They dressed him in leather as if he didn't cause the deaths of many Vikings and betray his own blood. When it was time to eat, Siggy climbed from her seat and sat down next to Helga and Floki. She watched his back as he stood next to Bjorn. She didn't know who she hated more. Floki always spoke of Rollo as scum that deserved to die. And she saw Bjorn the same way.

Maybe it was a blood thing? Rollow betrayed Ragnar and the Vikings, Ragnar betrayed the Vikings, and Bjorn betrayed her. Hopefully, Aslaug gave the other Ragnarssons some sense.

Passing by Hvitserk munching on an apple, she jumped on the edge of the boat and balanced over it. "Be careful. You don't know how to swim."

Rollo turned around and watched her dance on top of the wooden edge, dipping her toes in happily. "You don't know how to swim?"

"And you don't know how to be loyal. We all have our faults, Rollo." The man chuckled and observed her. She was a mystery to him; by her age, she couldn't be Floki's and Helga's daughter. Angrboða died as a child, and this one was too old to have been born after her. And the way she beat her chest when angry seemed so familiar to him.

She nearly tipped over into the water but steadied herself and strode on fearlessly. "It would be fun if I drowned. Like the original Siggy."

The blood in his veins grew cold at that. He hadn't heard the name; the last time he did, Bjorn's daughter was born. This annoying little madwoman couldn't be Bjorn's Siggy.

The blonde teenager twirled around on her toes and gripped a rope in her hands. She wrapped it around her throat and gasped mockingly. "Or maybe I could hang myself instead. Be original and spice it up."

"Stop fooling around!" Bjorn's voice boomed from behind them, and Siggy's features darkened. Now that she was angry, they looked so much alike. "For once in your life, be responsible and act your age!"

Jumping off the edge, she glared at him, fists clenched tightly by her sides. Helga ran to her and tried to calm down, but it was to no vain. When she spoke, her voice was icy and colder than the first frost in Kattegat used to be. "I am acting my age, your Highness. I am fifteen, as you would know if you cared enough. I always wondered why my mother left."

Bjorn pushed his shoulders back to scare her into shutting up. But it didn't work one bit; all it did was make her talk louder for all to hear. "Maybe I was an ugly baby or cried too much. But I am sure the problem wasn't me. I mean... How could she ever suffer to be near you? You are angry, unloyal, neglectful, and stupid. No wonder she left! I would have done the same!"

"That is enough! You will treat me with respect!"

"I will do no such thing, you fucking oaf!"

"You little-"

Floki cut in between them and smiled uneasily. "Don't do something you might regret, Bjorn. Friend or not, you will not touch Siggy." It always amazed Rollo how menacing someone as skinny as Floki can look. It must be the wild look in his eyes and the deranged mind.

With a huff, Bjorn turned away and stalked towards the head of the ship, his back turned to the still fuming blonde. Siggy stood there glaring at him; face stuck between anger and sadness. Everyone stared at her as Helga tried to calm her down, but nothing helped.

That is until Floki turned to her and cupped her cheek, patting her on it while tutting at her. "You will scare off all the men like this. How are we ever meant to get rid of you then, huh? And here I was hoping to get a castle for you."

Siggy turned her brooding blue eyes at his, shining the say way Ragnar's used to do. "Floki!" She scoffed and hit him over the side of the head, feigning to be insulted. "What man would be stupid enough to want me?"

"There are lots of deranged men out there." Floki joked, giggling.

"Speaking from experience, are you, Old man?"

The boatbuilder snickered again and took her by the shoulders, leading her back to their sleeping place. "Who are you calling old, huh? I am younger than I have ever been."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Hvitserk came to her later, eating like always. He ate from her share of food while she repainted the markings on her face. She had taken up to the art after she wanted to impress Floki. A child really, probably twelve or so. Back then, it looked bad, but with some practice, she got better. Now she can do it, still half asleep with her eyes closed.

"Didn't think you were a flower kind of girl." Glaring at him, she tried to grasp what he meant but then sighed. In her lap laid the flower Sigurd gave her as a parting gift.

"Bay flower means glory. It was a wish for me to wet my blade with blood and gain the people's respect."

"Aaah, so it's from Sigurd."

"No, Hvitserk. It's from your latest conquest. She cried when she gave it to me. Said I was far better than you ever were."

Hvitserk chuckled and leaned closer to her. "Why? Is your cock bigger than mine?"

"As long and thick as the mast behind you." She teased back, smirking, putting away her paint to steal back her food from him. He laughed at her boldness, patting her on the head as one might do to a dog.

Hvitserk left her to sit by Bjorn and Rollo, who tried to make sense of where they were. So Siggy made her way to her parents, who were having an argument.

"No, Helga."

"Yes. I need something more from this life."

"But not a child. Don't you remember?"

"Of course, I remember. How would I not remember?"

"There won't be a "this time." I have set my face against it. I do not want another child. Siggy is enough."

Floki stalked off, and Siggy watched Helga sob with sad eyes. It tore at her heart to see her sad. "Are you alright, Helga?"

The woman looked at her and sniffled before opening her blanket and waving her to herself. Siggy settled against her chest, her head tucked under her chin. "I am sorry."

"'Tis, alright. I have you. My pretty little warrior." The blonde gave a timid smile and hugged her mother closer. If her presence could give her some solace, Siggy would gladly look like a child in need of its mother to the other warriors. If anyone voiced it, well, they would die, of course.

#vikings #history vikings #vikings imagine #Siggy Bjornsdottir #Siggy #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #Sigurd #floki #helga

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buriednurbckyrd · 4 years ago

Text

The Breakup Box (3)

Not here, was her first thought. It was too personal, too intimate to have the conversation when she slept. But where? What could be neutral ground but also private enough that no one else could overhear what needed to be said?

“The water,” she blurted out. “I mean...” She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes. We do need to talk, but can you meet me over by the water in a few minutes?” Bucky's face remained impassive but Steve nodded.

“Okay, five minutes. We'll meet you there.” He started to turn but Bucky held his arm out to stop him.

“So you can have a chance to bolt? I don't think so, we'll go together.”

“Come on, Buck.” Steve sighed.

“No, that's fair.” Y/N said quietly. “I wasn't going to leave,” she shot Bucky a pleading look as if silently begging him to believe her. “But I haven't exactly given either of you reason to trust me not to.” She turned and took a zippered hoodie from her closet and slipped it on. There was a chill around her and she expected it would linger until the air was cleared. Knowing they would follow behind, she started walking.

What would she even say? Before she had seen them she thought she had known. It was completely foreign experience for her. There were never awkward silences between the three of them, she could tell them anything and everything. Hadn't Bucky been willing to share the darkest parts of his past? And Steve was always telling her stories of their childhood, good and bad. She hesitated for a moment at the door, overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Fear licked up her spine and her entire body went numb with it.

“Y/N?” Steve touched her shoulder gently and it jolted her back to reality. She shoved the door open and forced her legs to continue to move. Her chest tightened and she fought the urge to hyperventilate and kept her breaths deep and even. She realized the only thing she wanted was one of their hugs which never failed to make her feel safe and secure. Another icy shard bloomed in her belly at the thought. She prayed after it was over that could still be an option.

They followed her to the casual seating area by the large pond on the property. The late afternoon sun gleamed over the water. It was tranquil and quiet. Y/N was too full of anxious energy to sit so she paced. Steve nudged Bucky with his elbow.

“Be patient, okay?” He said quietly. “She's here, that's half the battle. Let her go at her own pace.” Bucky replied with an annoyed sound, but he made no move to prod Y/N along.

“Could you, I don't know…just sit down or something?” She finally said after a long silence. “You're making me more nervous standing like that.” Steve settled down on a bench and gestured at Bucky to join him. She stopped in front of them and looked up. “I don't even know where to begin.” She told them, misery written all over her face.

“Could start with an apology.” Bucky muttered under his breath and grunted when Steve kicked his shin.

“I really do apologize for how I acted,” she wrung her hands together. “Neither of you did anything wrong and I should have just been honest.” She pressed her fingers over her eyes, refusing to cry. “I'm so, so sorry. I've been dealing with a lot of shit but there's no excuse for treating either of you like I did.” Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“What happened, Y/N? I just want to understand.” He looked over at the other man. “We want to understand.”

“Short story? I got dumped. And before that, I was totally humiliated.” Bucky crossed his arms.

“Gonna need the long story, sweetheart.” The pet name, however briskly delivered gave her a small flame of hope.

“I figured.” She began to pace again. “I was a fucking idiot. I planned this whole getaway because I couldn't see what was right in front of me. And that's embarrassing enough on its own, but it gets worse. I told him, hey, you always plan our dates let me do this. Booked a fancy hotel room, probably the nicest place I've ever stayed in my whole life. Tony helped me get a reservation at this amazing new sushi restaurant, which I thought would be such a great surprise since he had mentioned wanting to try it when it opened.

And like a chump I didn't notice how antsy he was about it all. Disappeared when I checked us in. Practically sprinted to the room.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Tried to sweet talk me out of going to dinner. Which I almost fell for, but I had a brand new dress and I wanted to wear it. I wanted to go eat world class cuisine with my boyfriend and feel like a princess.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “Everything went smooth a silk. I felt pretty, the food was incredible, so far it was a perfect night. Then on our way out he suddenly turns green. Not because the food didn't agree with him, but because we run into a group of his friends. And introduces me as a client.”

“Excuse me?” Steve sounds stunned.

“Yup. Not his girlfriend of nearly ten months. A client of the company he works for.”

“Why?” Bucky demands.

“Oh believe me, as soon as we were alone I asked. Kind of wish I didn't.” She gestured at her body. “Because of this. Because according to him, I don't look like a believable romantic partner for him.”

“You're fucking joking.”

“Hand to god, Buck. I have more stamina than he could ever hope to achieve, not to mention the fact that I could literally hand him his own ass. But because I don't look a certain way, don't meet some set of societal standards I wasn't good enough to be seen with him by people he knew. Then all those nagging little red flags were suddenly clear as day. He always took me to obscure little places. Never any place popular or busy if we went out. Most of the time he invited me to his place for dinner and I thought it was sweet and romantic that he wanted to cook for me. He made me into a fool.”

“Please tell me you don't believe that,” Steve stood up and grabbed her hands. “Y/N, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, inside and out. That guy is the one that should be ashamed.” She smiled softly and drew her hands back.

“Thanks. I know he's the one that's lacking. He's the one that isn't good enough for me. But it doesn't mean that it didn't sting.” She blew out a long breath. “Him coming back to the hotel to drop of that box of my belongings was a pretty big slap in the face too. Just let all the hotel staff know how stupid I was.”

“Stop saying that,” Bucky finally spoke up. “I can't stand it when you put yourself down.”

“Sorry,” she scrubbed her hands over her face. “I know it's a bad habit.”

“Y/N, why didn't you end it then and there? Why did you let him break it off?” Steve asked.

“Because I was a coward, don't argue with me right now Bucky, I was. And even though he was wrong about almost everything he wasn't about the biggest issue.” Her heart started to race, was she actually going to do this?

“What issue?” Bucky prompted. She looked at the both of them, eyes sad.

“I didn't really want to be with him. If I had, I never would have overlooked all the ways he mistreated me, disrespected me. Every resentment and accusation just spilled out then, and there was absolutely nothing I could do or say because it was all true.” She couldn't stop the tears any more, and it felt like weakness. “Shit, I wasn't going to cry. I'm not trying to get pity or anything.”

“Didn't think that for a second.” Bucky said softly, his heart ached for his friend.

“Everything is my fault,” she said bitterly. “I did the only thing I promised I would never do, I lied. To him, to myself.” She choked on a sob. “To both of you.” Steve reached out for her. “No, don't.”

“What are you talking about? What did you lie about?” His blue eyes were so full of concern. She shook her head violently.

“I can't tell you!” She yelled. “But I can't not tell you either!”

“Y/N, please whatever it is-”

“I can't be around you anymore and keep it in, that's why I keep running away. But if I tell you and lost you both I couldn't bear it!” She held her head in her hands and trembled. Both men tried to get a hold of her but she dodged them.

“There's nothing you could say that would make us walk away from you.” Bucky said in a thick voice.

“He's right, you're our girl, Y/N.” Steve meant it to be comforting but it only upset her more.

“Am I though?” She wiped her eyes furiously. “Because I love you.” She looked at them both, and her shoulders slumped. “I'm in love with you, both of you.” Steve and Bucky could only stare at her in shock. “That's why I kept running, I can't keep all this,” she pressed her hands over her heart. “Locked away anymore. I was hoping maybe I could get it under control, but I can't. Being around you both is so overwhelming. I don't deserve your forgiveness because it was selfish. It's selfish telling you, and I never wanted to put you in this position.”

“Y/N...” Steve reached for her again.

“I don't expect anything.” Her voice was flat, as if all the wind had gone out of her sails. “You have each other and all I want is you to be happy together.” She gasped when Bucky's vibranium hand closed over her wrist, pulling her roughly towards him. His other hand was warm and gentle when it cupped her cheek, and before she knew what was happening his lips were on hers. When he pulled away her eyes were as big as saucers. “What?” Steve swept in before she could finish her thought and kissed her too, holding her against his body.

“Our girl.” He murmured into her ear. She found herself sandwiched between the two of them.

“You always were.” Bucky told her and she could the smile in his voice.

#steve x bucky #steve x reader x bucky #stucky x reader #reader insert #plus sized reader

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nishaapologist · 4 years ago

Text

a skyscraper is a bit like a vault, but it goes up instead of down (Fallout 4, Sarah Lyons/NBi!LW, First Sentinel AU)

it's been a while since my last lil fic, but the idea of rookie up a skyscraper jumped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. whilst i don't think rookie has agoraphobia from their vault years, they definitely think heights are just a little terrifying. what can they say? they're a mole person by nature.

(Sarah's pronouns are she/her, Rookie's pronouns are they/them)

===

Rookie's laughter is infectious, and easily earned, but for the past two hours it's been decidedly nervous in a way that's taken on a broadly hysterical vibe every time they so much as glance outside to see the looming shape of Boston below.

In Sarah's defence, she had warned them that this particular mission had heights involved.

To be perfectly honest, climbing up the precariously decayed skyscrapers that litter downtown isn't exactly her favourite thing to do either, but it's that terrifying dilapidation that means even the most intrepid scavengers haven't dared to ascend the heights themselves, leaving the stuff that's survived within mostly untouched by anything but time for over two-hundred years. The rarities that lie in wait are highly sought after by the right people, some items verging on priceless, and as such are often only just worth the risk inherent to get them back to ground level in the first place. Of course, the downside is that since Sarah's found herself in the thick of the Commonwealth's latest bout of faction drama, she's the one often called upon to find said things in the first place, and she's been running up and down so many sets of stairs that her calves are in better shape than they've ever been.

Rookie had insisted they come with for this particular expedition. Insisted.

"You doing okay back there?" Sarah calls, very pointedly trying not to look down. They'd just opened a door directly into open air - shunted from a relatively intact interior into a room where half of it now lies in the rubble below - giving them a prime view of the Commonwealth alongside a dizzying drop below, and Rookie's laughter had kicked itself up another notch into a tone Sarah would categorise as unstable. "Or do you wanna wait inside?"

"So the floor can give way underneath me?!" Rookie shouts back, entirely too loud even against the whistle of the wind. "No thanks! Just- just lead the way. I'm right behind you."

The stairwell upwards is marked by another closed door, set into the remains of the wall to Sarah's right, but the only real surface Sarah would be hard-pressed to call a floor is clinging to the barest edges of the room, the speckled tiles all slanted downwards and begging to dislodge under her feet. So, Sarah presses herself back, looking around for something to hold onto and finding a dangling cable overhead, slipping free of what could feasibly be described as a ceiling if one had a very generous description of what a ceiling actually constituted. Whatever. She reaches up, gets a good hold on it, and then starts shuffling along, inch by painstaking itch.

"Must be nice, being six-foot-dipshit," Rookie says with a painfully enforced cheer, as their only place to hold onto is Sarah's free hand, gripped painfully tight. It's... not ideal, because if they slip, Sarah stands very little chance of saving both of them from plummeting below if she gets dragged down too. "Jesus, Sarah. This had better be worth it."

Sarah hopes the same. Running around finding tech for the faction that betrayed her, and one that she fully intends to bring to its knees, isn't exactly her idea of a good time, but the Brotherhood are surprisingly lenient about letting some mysterious wastelander with a phobia of showing her face to people run around freely so long as she does as she's told, which Sarah is exploiting mercilessly. She obeys her orders (within reason), she does their stupid busywork (slightly less within reason), and she climbs up buildings that sway in the wind to find some dumb gizmo that's been shoved in a desk since before the bombs dropped (which isn't reasonable at all). At least back in her day it was busywork that came packaged with actual work, like killing super mutants or helping out a settlement against raiders, but no such luck here.

Not that it matters. So long as she hands in tech and find technical documents and clears out ghouls and whatever the shit, they don't care who she is, and that's just perfect.

"C'mon," she murmurs, lost almost entirely to the wind. "You got this."

It feels like it takes hours - the floor creaks and Rookie yelps at the sound, and more than once, a tile slips free and goes sailing downwards, the sound of it smashing against the ground below taking too many seconds to reach them to be comfortable. Rookie's looking unhealthily pale, and they swallow thickly, fix their eyes to a point on the horizon, and keep moving.

"Guess there weren't a lot of heights in DC to be afraid of, right?" Sarah says lightly, because this is the exact kind of situation to make jokes in, in her experience. "We took all that flatness for granted."

"I'm from a hole in the ground," Rookie hisses between locked teeth. "Ground level is already, like, a lot for me. Nobody should ever need to be this high up. Christ."

Well, Sarah can't argue with that one. Sure, maybe they needed all these floors for when the population wasn't restricted to the thousands at best, but even then... she eyes up the distant spires of the neighbouring high-rises and, well, part of her is pretty convinced it boiled down to a dick-measuring contest unlike any other. "Think of it like a cliff. A really, really tall cliff. Besides, this place has been standing this here long, right? What makes us two so likely to make it fall over n-"

As if on her cue, there's a low, long groan that reverberates all around, and Sarah swears she feels the building tilt behind her, Rookie now making swift progress from laughter to hyperventilation. Above, something clangs and bangs, which precedes an old filing cabinet falling from a higher floor, making Rookie jump as it tumbles past in a blur.

One Nuka Quantum, Sarah thinks to herself the split-second it's out of sight. Two Nuka Quantum, three Nuka Quantum, four-

The clatter from below echoes for miles, metal crunching like a tin can underfoot, and Sarah can only imagine how it must've compacted on impact. She tries not to. "Okay. Alright. Just... keep on moving."

Rookie nods once, their mouth clamped shut and their every breath accompanied by a wheeze, and their hand is now disgustingly sweaty against Sarah's palm. Or maybe that's her sweat. Probably both.

Inch by inch, Sarah gets closer to the door, hoping beyond hope that there isn't just a sheer drop beyond it where the stairs used to be, and as soon as she hits the corner and shuffles gingerly around to bring it just within touching distance, she untangles her hand from the cable above. Now, if either of them fall, they're both absolutely fucking screwed, and she once again choose not to think about it. Instead, she reaches over, grasping for the inch-wide opening down the middle, and in the same instant she manages to wrench the door halfway open, she drags herself and Rookie towards it with all the force she can muster, both of them tumbling through into a dark stairwell. So dark, in fact, that it takes Sarah a second to realise she didn't just shut her eyes in preparation for the freefall that might've been laying in wait. There's absolutely no natural light in the stairwell, given there's no windows, no lights, and absolutely no missing walls. It takes second for Sarah to realise that's a good thing.

"Jesus!" Rookie shouts, and unlike the awful endless echo is outside, this bounces right off the four solid walls like a blessing. "Fucking hell, if we survive this, you can tell those Scribe dipshits to get absolutely stuffed! Are you fucking kidding me with this?"

Sarah doesn't contest any of that, given she's absolutely inclined to agree. She bends down, hands on her knees, and takes in a few breaths of dusty, stifled air. Another blessing that sure doesn't feel like one. "Alright. Alright. We're good." Then, she stands up, and casts her gaze towards the mesmerising swirl of the twisting stairs above, leading up to the higher reaches of this skyscraper. "Just another, like, ten floors to go."

Rookie blinks, looks up also, and then gives Sarah a deceptively innocent stare. "On second thoughts," they say mildly, "you can go get stuffed first."

Yeah, Sarah thinks. She'd have said the same.

#fallout #fallout 4 #sarah lyons #lone wanderer #rookie reeves #my writing #rookie on the 20th floor: HUBRIS HUBRIS HUBRIS HUBRIS AAAAAA

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balsee · 4 years ago

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proof it’s not a dream; someone has been sending luz love letters. (2/2)

Should we ever share a kiss, I’m certain that my world would be tinted pink forever.

Amity rolls the words over in her head, she likes the sound of them. Luz can barely get through the sentence, stuttering and blushing down to the roots of her hair. Amity and Willow are practically touching foreheads as they lean over their lunch trays to get a glimpse of the sticky note Luz found tucked between her textbooks. She’s curled over, squirming in embarrassment. Amity has never seen her this flustered before. Normally, she showed off her love notes with excitement but this time, Luz appeared downright bashful.

Her shyness, however, melts into something akin to worry. Luz leans back in her seat, eyebrows drawn together. She’s still blushing, but her mouth turns down into a frown. The note lies limp between her fingers.

“What’s wrong, Luz?” Amity asks, feeling something cold slip down her spine. It’s been almost a month, and the letters have only gotten more personal. They’re still rather short, but they go from vague compliments to something much deeper. The last one talked of Luz’s hands. Amity remembers that one clearly. I can’t help but imagine what your hands would look like clasped with mine. Perhaps this was going overboard, somehow? Maybe these notes were no longer romantic and were getting burdensome instead. Suddenly, Amity wishes she never asked what was wrong, because she’s deathly afraid of the answer.

“It’s just..” Luz begins, trailing off as she searches for the right words. “What if this is like, a prank or something?”

“It’s not.” Willow pipes up suddenly, gathering their attention. She blinks, surprised at her boldness, but plows forth calmly. “It’s too dedicated to be a prank, and these notes are downright poetic. Whoever is sending them sounds pretty serious to me.”

“I mean, I guess but…” Luz falters again, and she bites her bottom lip. “Why would anyone write to me? I’m not exactly, y’know, normal.”

At this, Amity gives a kind snort. “No offence, Luz, but nobody here is normal.”

“That’s not what I mean.” the note wrinkles in her hand as she curls it into a fist and runs another hand through her hair. “Back home, y’know, in the human world, I didn’t fit it there. Now I’m here and I’m just barely a witch, so technically I don’t fit in this world either!” Luz lets her head flop onto the lunch table with a thunk. “At first, I was so excited about these letters, but now the longer I think about it, the more I’m starting to worry. I’d like to meet the person who writes these eventually, but what if they get to know the real me and they’re...disappointed?”

“Luz, that’s crazy!” Willow chides gently. “You’re amazing! This person obviously thinks so. You fit in just fine here, honestly.”

“You say that, but what if it’s not that easy?” Luz bemoans. “I couldn’t bear it if someone took the time to write these to me and everything just fell apart because they didn’t like who I really was.” Amity can’t believe what she’s hearing. There’s no way Luz could be serious, but the girl doesn’t lift her head and Amity feels something hard pressing on her chest. The hair on the back of her neck prickles, and she glances up to see Willow staring at her. Amity suddenly moves out of her seat, the chair legs scraping against the floor as she stands.

“I gotta go.” she says quickly, gathering her books. “We’ll talk later, okay?” she runs, something strange and shameful swirling in her heart. She doesn’t look back as she rushes out of the cafeteria.

Amity finds Willow in the greenhouse, pruning roses at a nearby table. The greenhouse is lush and vibrant, the mingling scents give Amity a bit of a headache, but she walks in anyway. Willow looks totally in her element, pruning the roses with a concentration that rivals that of a brain surgeon. Amity even has to call her name a couple of times just to get her attention. Willow lifts her head, blinking as she comes back to reality.

“You wrote those letters to Luz.” is the first thing out of her mouth, and Amity’s face is aflame instantly.

“What? No, that’s--that’s not true!” Willow doesn’t respond and Amity gets nervous. “It’s not, Willow. Why would I do that? I mean, it’s just…”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Amity.” Willow says softly, giving her a knowing look. “We’re friends.”

That sentence is laden with a weight that bears down on Amity’s shoulders. It’s not bad, just...more than she expected. It takes the wind out of her sails, and Amity can finally relax.

“I wrote them.” Amity whispers, and she had no idea getting the words out was so difficult. “I wrote every single one. I wake up early, sneak into the school and slip them into her locker. I just...can’t tell her that they’re from me.”

“Why not?”

“I’m too scared. Writing down your feelings is one thing, but saying them out loud is completely different! It was just going to be one note, but eventually I started writing more, and I don’t know when I’m going to stop. I don’t want Luz to figure out it’s me, but I don’t want her to feel like there’s something so strange about her that no one could possibly have romantic feelings for her! And I don’t--”

“Okay.” Willow interjects smoothly, and sets down her scissors. “Come with me for a minute.”

Willow leads Amity to the grudgby field. The spring air is crisp and the sun is warm on their skin. It’s a beautiful day, the grass of the grudgby field has been recently cut, and the smell tickles Amity’s nose.

“Alright,” Willow said with a professional air. “you know what to do.”

Amity exhales a sigh, casting her a doubtful look. “Willow, I don’t think this is going to work--”

“It always works. Just do it.”

Without another word, Amity walks on the grass, stretching her arms. She takes a deep breath, positions herself, and does a handstand. It was an odd tradition that they did, even way back before their falling out. Whenever Willow had a hard time making a decision or getting something off her chest, she would do a handstand for a few moments. When she was back on her feet, the words poured out or her mind was made up. Amity had laughed at her then, but Willow insisted that it worked every time. Amity was never one to back down from a challenge, however, and tried it herself.

With her legs in the air and her head inches above the grass, Amity realizes just how long it's been since she did this. Doing this headstand comes with a flood of memories, and Amity’s heart clenches at how much she missed this, how much she missed Willow. They had patched up their relationship a while ago, and it was almost as if their falling out had never happened. But it did, and Amity can finally admit to herself that no amount of good grades or friends could replace the warmth that Willow brought into her life. Those months without her were empty, cold and impossibly lonely.

When her head begins to pound, Amity allows herself to fall onto her back and she stares at the clouds. Willow joins her, laying down beside her with her hands folded onto her stomach.

“I think you should do it, Amity.” Willow’s voice is soft. “I think you should tell Luz that you’re in love with her.”

“How did you know?” Amity asks after a few moments of silence.

“You cast a spell on your notes so we wouldn’t recognize the handwriting.” there's a smile evident in her words. “That’s pretty impressive magic, I must admit. But if we’re being honest, Luz is so oblivious that she probably wouldn’t recognize it anyway.”

Amity snorts with laughter, just the thought of it causing a blush to rise to her face. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” she laughs. “she’s adorable, Willow.”

“Of course she is,” Willow agrees. “now all you need to do is tell her.”

“I know!” Amity groans, covering her face with her hands. “Stars, how could she say those things about herself? I mean, yeah she’s weird but that’s a good thing! It’s great, even! I could never be disappointed with her, not in a million years, Willow. I’m just a little scared about what’s going to happen after.”

“That’s normal, Amity. But if you don’t act, you’ll never know. I think you’ll be surprised at what’ll happen if you just get honest with Luz and with yourself.” Willow responds sagely, and Amity knows she’s right. Willow was always right. They sit there in silence, knowing that they both should probably get back to class but unwilling to move.

“This weather is pretty.” Amity says, by way of conversation. Willow waves a finger, a blue flower blooms from the ground and curls in Amity’s hand. “What’s this one?”

“A starflower.” Willow responds. “It means courage.”

Despite their talk, it still takes Amity longer than usual to decide on what to do. She stalls until she tells herself she’s being silly, and heads to school on Wednesday with a note in her hand. But this is no sonnet nor poem, this one is straight and direct. It’s instructions to meet by the steps after school at four, and Amity is determined to tell Luz everything then. She’s so used to taking her usual route to Luz’s locker by now that she nearly trips and falls flat on her face when she rounds the corner.

Luz is standing at her locker.

Amity scrambles backwards, heart pounding like the wings of a hummingbird. She presses herself against the wall, nearly ripping the note as she clutches it tightly in her grip. Luz was never here early, what in the world was she…

Amity slaps a hand to her forehead, suppressing a groan. Of course! She wanted to catch whoever was writing her the letters! This wasn’t supposed to happen! Amity feels herself backtracking, determined to turn around and run out of the school. She wants to tear the note to pieces and toss her words into the wind, because she can’t do this. Amity Blight was never one to run away from a challenge, but this was a fight she was unprepared to face. This was Luz and Luz was so much more than Amity could ever imagine--

Okay, hold on. Deep breaths, Amity.

She closes her eyes and tries to calm her rapid heartbeat. She remembers the starflower sitting in a pot on her windowsill. She can do this. She can.

Before she can doubt herself any longer, Amity rounds the corner and steps into Luz’s line of view. The girl visibly brightens, and Amity feels about ten times lighter at the sight. “Amity! What’re you doing here?”

Instinctively, Amity slips the note into her pocket. She tries to think of an excuse only to come up empty. She just...she couldn’t lie anymore, she didn’t want to. “I came here to talk to you.” she says, already feeling her heart begin to gallop in her chest. Amity flexes her fingers and steels her resolve. She stands in front of Luz, willing herself to look her in the eye.

“I’m...I’m the one that’s been sending you the notes.” the words are heavy and hesitant, laden on her tongue. A long silence ensues as Luz’s face goes through a series of emotions. Shock, confusion, and finally something akin to happiness (or what Amity hopes is happiness).

“...You?” Luz’s voice is feather light, as soft as a dream. “It’s been you this whole time?” Amity nods, heat rising to her face. Her skin feels hot with uncertainty, and suddenly the words start pouring out with abandon.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner! I was just..nervous, and I still am. But I didn’t want to hide anymore. But everything I wrote down was true, Luz. I like everything about you, and I could never be disappointed with you--”

Luz reaches out to take her hands, and Amity falls silent. It was strange how easily Luz was able to pull things out of her, how all it took was Luz’s hands in hers to quiet the beginnings of a rising storm. “It’s fine.” Luz responds quietly. “I’m not upset with you.” the relief Amity feels is so strong that her legs almost shake.

“You’re not?” she whispers, and Luz shakes her head.

“Willow talked some sense into me after my whole..freak out at lunch. She was right from the beginning, y’know? Love is just…”

“Scary?” Amity helpfully supplies, and Luz exhales dramatically.

“Yes.” her entire being sags as she breathes the word out, eyes rolling to the ceiling. Amity allows herself a small smile and laces their fingers together. “But in all seriousness, I’m flattered, Amity. More than flattered, actually. I…” Luz falters, gazing at Amity with a look indecipherable. “I really like you, too. I never thought someone would do something like this for me.”

Through the rush of pure joy roaring inside her, Amity manages to string a coherent sentence together. “Well, you should’ve.” she smiles. “You’re great, Luz.” it’s all she can think to say, because the other options would’ve been to whoop in triumphant victory or lay on the floor and release a series of high-pitched squeals because Luz liked her back. But Amity can’t afford to do either of those things, so she reins herself in, just for a moment.

“You’re great!” Luz laughs, her unrestrained laughter echoing in the halls. She quickly quiets herself when Amity presses a finger to her lips, the both of them bursting with joy that swells like the crescendo of the sweetest symphony. Luz sobers, and gives Amity a teasing smile. “So, rosebuds, huh? I didn’t know you Blights were so romantic.”

“Ugh!” Amity puts her face in her hands, voice wobbling as she tries unsuccessfully to hold in her smile and an embarrassed laugh. “I knew you were going to tease me about that!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Amity looks up, and she can’t control the fondness in her voice or the love struck expression she just knows is clout across her face. “I love it.”

Back in her bedroom, the starflower grows a little taller.

#this is so long i'm sorry!#i was going to upload this yesterday but i didn't like how it came out #so i ended up rewriting the whole thing #lumity fic #luz x amity #me? unable to write confession scenes? it's more likely than you think

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concealeddarkness13 · 3 years ago

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WHG 15 Post-Games Imposter Syndrome Part 23

The day after part 22! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Hugo!)!

The next day, I snuck out after Hugo and the dumb Peacekeepers taking him. I didn’t show myself until the Peacekeepers had already dropped him off. I just slid in next to him and grinned and winked.

He stared at me for a few seconds before he just looked away, as if he was completely unsurprised. When we walked up to the captain, she frowned at us. “Another one?”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am! They wanted to see how well I was, working on a ship.”

She just beckoned for us to follow her, and I followed with a grin. I already loved her. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to punch her. The crew had gathered for a meal, and we went there. She looked back at me. “You got a name, swab?”

It couldn’t hurt to say my full name. I smiled. “Triel Reeves.”

She paused for a second with a frown, but then she just shrugged. Perfect! “Fresh blood, everyone.” I grinned wider. I hadn’t been just a crew member on a ship for a year. She lowered her voice and turned back to me, pointing out the cook and the quartermaster. “And that over there’s the other greenhorn we can’t get a name out of. You two’ll be working together tarring the ratlines.” Oh boy! “Hope you like heights. First things first, though.” She walked over to the quartermaster and talked with him for a second.

He yelled for everyone to get ready to set sail. And called for us to haul lines to help unfurl the sails. Perfect! I grinned as we climbed and got started. This was so familiar!

“Fancy meeting you here,” Hugo said quietly. Oh yeah. There was a reason I was here.

I shrugged and kept my voice too lighthearted. “Well, I guess the Capitol decided this would be good for me.” I paused and grinned again. “Anyway, I haven’t done this kind of work for a while. I love heights.”

He rolled his eyes at my first comment. Good. He got the lie. As we switched new lines to haul, he spoke up. “And how do you feel about tar?”

“Hey, I love everything to do with ships. And I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

He didn’t respond. We finished up with our task and started with tarring the lines shortly after. We climbed up with brushes as the bosun hauled the tar bucket up with a pulley.

I just kept grinning. This was amazing! But the air felt hard to breathe. It wasn’t affecting my memory, like it did with Hugo, but something was going on. I felt a little more peaceful. Less willing to fight. As I started working, I nodded. “I can see what you mean about the air. It’s affecting my thoughts a little.”

“I try to breathe through my shirt sometimes, although I can’t say the smell is preferable.” He smirked, but it didn’t last. “Yeah. Just…try and remind yourself of things. Y’know, in the past. Hold onto memories you don’t want to lose. You shouldn’t’ve come out here and risked…I don’t know why you did this.”

Because you’re my friend, and I won’t let you be alone. I tried for humor first. “Like I could ever forget you.” But then I became serious again. “And I wasn’t going to leave you to suffer alone. I probably won’t be able to come every day, and the Capitol might realize what I did and not let me come at all after this. But I’m not going to leave you alone. It’s just an added bonus that I might be able to punch some bastards today.”

He perked up at the last sentence. “Well, I’m obligated to admit some of these salts’re okay, but the bastards’re fair game for punching. I will emphatically do nothing to stop you should you feel punchy.”

“Noted.” I looked around as I kept tarring. The question was: who were the salts and who were the bastards? “I must admit, they’ve done their homework. This is remarkably like the real thing.”

He nodded, and he sounded spiteful. “Yeah. But I bet it’s just like an old arena or—I think I already said that. Never mind. So, uh, you…but you have been with the real thing, though. The real ocean and everything. It’s…what’s different? Does the ship still pitch like this? And the jobs—do you…Do you think maybe I’d do good out there, with the real thing?” He sounded more hopeful now.

I watched him with a smile before I said anything. He was doing very well. He seemed to be at home here. “It pitches worse, sometimes. I’ve been through a couple of storms, and it’s an adventure. The air is saltier than this, and the wind blows a lot more most of the time. There are times when it’s completely still, and we have to row to move the ship. And you’re certainly promising. I’ll make sure you get your sea legs yet.”

He looked so excited, but before he could say anything else, the bosun yelled up at us. “HEY! WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS JUST GOT TAR ON MY FUCKING UNIFORM?! These things don’t grow on trees, you know! Do I look like a ratline to you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Like hell we did,” I muttered. While Hugo mimed dumping the rest of the bucket on the bosun’s head.

We climbed down, and the stupid bosun was stomping around, muttering under his breath. But of course he made his words loud enough for us to hear when we got down. “Arena-saboteurs like that good-fer-nothing Carolee.”

Oh boy. So, he was certainly one of the bastards. He glanced over at us and threw the tar bucket at Hugo, who caught it, but the tar still got all over him. Shit. I whirled on the bosun and punched him straight in the face.

He fell down way too easily. Weak. I spit at his feet and stood over him crossing my arms. “You piece of shit. You’d already have been thrown overboard if you were on my ship.”

He lunged for me, but it was so weak, he just brushed past me. But Hugo lunged for the bosun and punched him in the gut. “Not to my friend, you don’t!”

I felt a twinge of happiness, and I grinned as bastards jumped from the quarterdeck or burst through a door. Perfect. I started grinning. This was going to be fun!

Okay, most of it was a blur, but I totally punched the woman with the bucket so that the bucket flew and hit one of the two people trying to corner Hugo. Someone decided to bring a mop, but I just ripped it out of his hands and snapped it, but I lost it when someone got a punch in. There were too many, and I kept getting hit, but when I stumbled Hugo was there, and he helped me out of the way of the bosun trying to get a good kick in. Loser.

When the quartermaster finally broke it up, Hugo was on the ground, and I helped him up with a grin. I bowed my head at the quartermaster. “I’m sorry about that fuss. I just had to defend my friend’s honor.” I gestured at Hugo, and he still had tar on him. And now blood. Nice.

“I don’t care about anyone’s honor—I care about who’s starting stupid fights on this ship. You’re lucky I saw it wasn’t you two.” He hauled the bosun to his feet and pointed at one of the others who had been part of the fight. “Help that one to the infirmary, and you don’t get to see the galley until tomorrow. I’ll see you all get double duty for this, and you’ll thank me to not break out the cat o’ nine.” He hesitated. “We don’t…actually have one, but still. Behave your damn selves. We’re not pirates, for heaven’s sake.” I made a face at him after he pointed us to a new task. Cleaning the toilets, of course.

Hugo smirked over at me at the pirates comment, and I shot him a middle finger back. I was still angry over the stupid bosun. I couldn’t believe he actually did that. “No, you are worse than pirates. We would never turn on one of our own like that. And if someone did, I would have gotten rid of them immediately.”

We started working, and Hugo glanced over at me. “So, are you not allowed to mess with each other? Well, I know that guy wasn’t just messing around…I think he knows something about what we did. I don’t think anyone else does. And now we pissed him off…” He frowned but shrugged. “Heh. He knows what’s coming to him if he tries crossing us, eh, hat lady?” He grinned.

I grinned back. “Yeah, if he even looks at us funny, I’m going to deck him again.” I paused. “And we do a lot of stupid shit to each other. One time, Tess put two-sided stickers on the way up to the crow’s nest, and it took ages for Lily to even notice she had stickers that said ‘fuck you’ on her palms. And Shine—” Shit. Not again. I forced myself to continue. “They always threw machine parts at everyone. I think they secretly had a stash of parts just for throwing.” I paused, swallowing hard and pushing the thoughts away. “And Nesri likes sparring, so we have fight nights, especially between her and Tauren.”

“Secret stash.” Hugo snickered to himself. But he didn’t say anything else.

I just kept working, trying to figure out what the air was doing. It wasn’t affecting my memory, so what else? Either way, it was starting to feel suffocating. I snarled. “I can’t believe you have to deal with this shit every day. This air is suffocating.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it too. You shouldn’t have come here.” He bristled, but then he calmed down again. “…But I’m kinda glad you did. But don’t come back.”

I scoffed. “I’ll decide if I come back or not.” I paused. It would be good to distract him. “So, you’ve heard all about my friends. Would you like to talk about yours?”

He nodded wearily to my first sentence, and then he coughed. “What? Why?” A little defensive, but understandable. “Uh. Well, I guess if we’re ever gonna be all on a ship together…”He mouthed something to himself before he started. “There’s Alex. He’s the popular one. Our resident hero.” He snickered. “Wants to be the guy with the sword, taking on demon pirates robbing us, i.e. normal pirates. Good guy. Mean cook too, though—galley’s probably where he’s headed, to be honest. And there’s Luc, stands for Lucifer, but they’ve got him cleaning up at the church! Met him out thieving, which should tell you how much of a saint he is. You’d like him. Always spoiling for a fight. He’ll be a gunner for sure. Wonder if he’s caught the guy he’s trying to reap vengeance on by now…Anyway, then there’s Tally. Do not pick on him. I will kick your ass. He’s a quiet kid, but he’s alright. Shy around people, but he can play a sharp guitar and spin a tale that’ll singe the hair off your brow. Big on animals and nature and stuff, good at building…okay, traps for hunters, so maybe he’ll be okay as a carpenter? I dunno what good’s a carpenter gonna do on a ship like yours. But we’ll be useful.”

I nodded. They sounded wonderful. “They’ll do very well on my ship. As will you.” I smiled over at him. “They sound like wonderful people. I’ll be happy to meet them. And what job would you like to do on my ship?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, I’ll be happy just to be there.” But it looked like he had something in mind.

I grinned. “Well, then I’ll make a new job: The Person Who’s Just Happy To Be Here. And you can walk around grinning the whole time.”

“We all know that’s exactly what sullen teenagers are for.” He gave me his best scowl.

I grinned back at him. And we kept working, until the ship landed back at the harbor. The Peacekeepers came and took Hugo, and I followed. They finally noticed me a little bit later and stopped and stared at me for a few seconds.

One of them pointed at me. “You! You’re not supposed—”

And I punched her too. Enough to make her fall unconscious, and then I whirled on the other Peacekeeper and did the same. I called for Hugo to run, and we both ran together.

When we got to the entrance, Hugo copied my bow with a grin, and he ran off. I grinned after him and ran off, back toward my prison.

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr

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hatsukeii · 5 years ago

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Not a request, just something I thought of while listening to a song.

Gonna be a scenario!!

And for once it’s not a haikyuu one lolol sorry to disappoint.

It’s an Attack on Titan one because LEVI.

I’m sorry I’m soft for him.

(Even though he’s like 20+ years older than me but age is just a number jail’s just a room-)

(Jk lol I’m not about to have him catch a case)

Are You Bored Yet?// Levi x reader

Word count： 2000+ idk the exact number bc I went back and changed some stuff

Warnings: Little bit of swearing

Summary: You and Levi have never really had much time to think about your relationship, until the night before the plan to recapture the lost land within Wall Maria.

This was one of those nights.

Those precious nights in the Survey Corps, where Levi wasn’t at his mahogany table, writing up piles amongst piles of paperwork until his fingers cramped and his wrists felt numb, drinking so many cups of tea at such a quick pace it looks like he’s just straight up inhaling the scorching liquid.

But also one of those nights, where the tension in the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. The wavering mentality of everyone in the Survey Corps was evident in the way they acted that particular evening. From the silence in the dining hall, to the soldiers showing more affection to their comrades compared to usual. They all knew what awaited them tomorrow. Maybe this was what people described as the pre boss battle stress. The kind of anxiety that ate you up from inside, slowly taking over you.

Dinner ended hours ago. Lights in the cabins were off, leaving you in pitch darkness. The faint glow from the moon that hung above your head lit up the patch of grassy land you laid on. To say you weren’t nervous would be an understatement. The past few months have been nothing but cruel. Who knew the titans were going to somehow get to the walls again? Watching your comrades die each expedition as if it was normal probably hardened you more than necessary. Letting your hands travel to under your head, you let your head tilt up to gaze at the starry sky. Your eyes darted from star to star, trying to count them, hoping that would help silence out all the made up scenarios about tomorrow you were making.

“Can I join you?” A low, but oh so familiar voice asked behind you. “No babe, you can’t. What do you think? Of course you can join.” You joked, patting the area next to you as Levi sat himself down, refusing to lie down on the “filthy” grass.

Being orphaned was not fun. At all. You never received any form of care from anyone. Your parents wanted a boy. A girl was the last thing they asked for, let alone two girls. The minute you turned five, the two adults chucked you two out on the streets to fend for yourself. For three whole years, you cowered behind your sister as she handled difficult situations. Stealing, bribing, defending, those were her fortes. Till now, you still blamed yourself for her death. You tried to steal bread from a vendor. A beefy vendor. The man snapped, sending punch after punch towards you. Your sister intervened, hoping to stop his assault on you. Jumping in front of you, she took all the blows that came her way, skilfully dodging the kicks and punches the man threw out, a crowd starting to form around the fight. You watched, clutching onto the bread, as a drop of blood dripped from her nose to the ground, followed by more droplets. Three other men stepped in to assist the vendor, sending harsh blows with bats, planks, everything and anything at their disposal. The crowd’s cheers echoed through the street as they egged the fight on. The beefy vendor was now straddling your sister, sending punch after punch towards your sister’s bruised and bloody face. Run, she told you. Leave her and get to somewhere safe, she screamed, before a crunch, followed by a pained yell pierced the air. Get away, she choked out, before one of the men got bored and snapped her neck, all signs of life in her eyes gone within a second. Petrified, you dropped the pastry, running away as quick as your little feet could bring you. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you know whether the three men were following you. All you knew to do was to run away. That was your sister’s last request. You collapsed on the side of the road, eyes wide and darting across the street, praying you were alone. You curled up into a ball on the street, tears rolling down your cold cheeks as you rocked back and forth. The way her face paled as blood continued to drip onto the street when her neck snapped was etched into your brain. That wasn’t gonna leave any time soon. It could’ve been minutes, or hours that had passed, when you felt something shoved into your arms. “Here, have this.” You tiredly looked up at the raven haired boy that was about your age, who was now looking at you with bored eyes. You tore out a tiny piece of the warm bread, your trembling hand leading it into your mouth. The boy rolled his eyes, wiping his hand on his shirt. “You alone or what?” All you could do was timidly nod your head. You were far from composed enough to make out any proper sentences. “You wanna tag along? I can help you out until you’re good to go.”

You two stuck together for the longest time. You remember when Levi introduced you to Isabel and Farlan, who taught you how to master the ODM gear. The four of you relied on each other in the underground, sharing materials, food, water, all that. When the three joined the Survey Corps, you joined with them. On your first expedition, you watched as your comrades, those you trained for years and eventually became close with, get devoured by titans. You joined up with Levi, brutally killing the titan that decided eating Farlan and Isabel was a good idea. You held him that night while he cried about two of his best friends that met their gruesome fate. Never once have you ever left his side when he needed you most.

It didn’t come as a surprise when you eventually caught feelings for him. I mean he’s ripped, hot as hell, smart, and can beyblade his way to victory, what was there not to like? What did come as a surprise, was when he admitted his feelings towards you before your second expedition together. Since then, you guys have been dating, becoming nearly inseparable during missions.

To say your relationship was smooth sailing would be a lie. There have been times where you’ve had full blown arguments with him. Dating in the military was not an easy ordeal. You were constantly worried about Levi, and vice versa. Making it up to each other was probably the thing you guys did the most. All that mattered was that you guys kept your asses alive, so you could go home together.

You continued to stare at the sky, salvaging the rare peaceful night. You let your eyes close as you relaxed in the grass. Nights like these almost never existed. Levi was usually too busy for this shit. However his paperwork was all finished, which meant he finally had a chance to really enjoy your presence. The occasional gust of wind that blew over you two, and Levi’s attempts to get comfortable on the grassy floor were the only audible sounds. Your lips curled up into a tiny grin, imagining how Levi looked like right now. “Screw it.” You felt his shoulder against yours as you chuckled lightly. “I knew you would give in.”

You two laid there in a comfortable silence, relaxing one last time, hoping it could last forever.

“Are you bored yet?”

Your eyes fluttered open. Levi rarely asked questions like this. This was a start.

You looked over to him, taking in his appearance in the moonlight. His eyes were focused on the stars, his breathing light and almost inaudible.

“Bored of what?”

His eyes never left the sky.

“Are you bored of this yet? Are you bored of me? Bored of doing the same things every single damn day? Bored of life? Going out, fighting titans, watching people that have grown close to us waste their lives out on the battlefield, aren’t you bored of all of it? Do you sometimes just want to end it all?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to understand his question.

“Why would I ever be bored of you?”

“Why would you not? It’s been six whole years, I’m surprised you still put up with me.”

You sighed out, turning your head back towards the sky.

“Levi, do you ever get bored of counting stars?”

A look of confusion plastered on his face as he thought about it for a bit.

“No. I don’t.”

“Why don’t you get bored of it?”

He turned his head towards the sky, letting his eyes close.

“Maybe something about the stars just fascinates me to an extent. I can’t get bored of them. They’re just so pretty. You’d think they were just dots, but if they ever fell onto Earth, it’d be a total shitshow. Billions of stars, just in the sky for us to observe. We don’t really know much about them either. I guess that’s my reason for not being bored.”

You nodded, humming in response.

“Well, I’m not bored of you because I’m fascinated by you, even now. Just like the stars. Maybe life as a soldier has hardened you to the point where watching your comrades die just doesn’t affect you, or you hide all your emotions under that pretty little face of yours. Sometimes, I don’t understand how you just fall asleep on a chair, or how your brain still manages to function on three hours of sleep. There’s so much to learn about you. One thing I did figure out, is that you wear your heart on your sleeve, you just never tell people. You’d rather try to move on than open up to someone. As long as there’s something to discover about the outside world, the titans, you, I would never get bored.”

Levi huffed out, continuing his “interrogation.”

“Then what now? It’s been six years of doing the same thing, this will eventually get boring for the both of us.” The pain in his voice he tried so hard to hide finally showed itself.

“We continue to do this shit. As long as it takes for us to finally be able to be free outside the walls. I don’t plan on letting it get boring anytime soon. I want humanity to be able to breathe in the air from outside the walls. I want them to see the ocean, smell and taste the salt in the ocean breeze by the sea. Be able to experience everything written in those little textbooks of theirs, instead of just read about it on paper. I won’t stop until that goal is reached, nor will I lose interest. And don’t you even come up with that bullshit, about how I’ll eventually get bored of you. I love you way too much to get bored of you. We’ve been through so much together, it would be a waste if I threw that all away.”

“Aren’t you scared? Tomorrow, more people are going to die for sure. Who knows if it’s going to be one of us?” Another question came out from his mouth.

“Who said I wasn’t scared? I’m always scared. I can’t afford to lose you, or anyone I love. You better not die on me tomorrow, or I’ll bring you back and kill you all over again. Humanity’s strongest is about to carry us to victory with a brave heart and a killer glare.”

The raven haired man chuckled at that statement, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

“If you knew me, you’d know I’m far from being brave. You really think I’m unaffected by the deaths of other soldiers? If I could, I would save every single one of them. I’m scared too. Terrified. I can’t bear to imagine how life would be without you, or anyone from my squads. You’re right, I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I don’t trust anyone enough to open up to them. Maybe except you. I just wish that one day, humanity will finally be triumphant against the titans. I don’t care what it takes. I’d do it without hesitation even if it costs me my life.”

Bringing your hand up to his face, he gave each knuckle a soft peck, before holding it to his chest. The back of your hand felt his steady heartbeat, thumping against his chest like a drum.

“However, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. Not when I have you protect you. As long as I still have energy to breathe, I’m going to continue to protect your ass, no questions asked. You better not die tomorrow either, or I’ll do the exact same thing you just said.”

You shifted your body, leaning against Levi’s side as you rested your head on his shoulder, smiling at yourself.

“I do have a pretty killer glare though don’t I love?”

You laughed a bit at his boastful joke, giving his cheek a light peck, before resting your head back on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you definitely do. Pretty sure Eren pisses his pants every time you send him that death glare.”

After rewriting this like twice bc of my computer glitching it is finally done oh my god I’m so tired rn I feel like death. I’ll do all the requests tomorrow, for now just stick with this shitty oneshot I decided to write out of impulse.

(Btw this is an example of me writing a scenario based on a song. If any of you guys know it then like please be my friend)

References:

Are you bored yet- Wallows

Are you bored yet (official music video)

Genius interview lol

The comments section on the music video and other variations of that song

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holylulusworld · 5 years ago

Text

The wolf and the princess – Part 12 - A whole new world

Summary: A princess and a wolf meet under difficult circumstances. Can they give each other shelter in a cold world?

A/N: prompt/idea by @gypsyjucar: Ulf Johnsen (Dean Winchester) is the leader of his land with the help of his brother. On a trip to Dean gets captured by the king's guards, the princess, was just walking along the castle when she hears her father and guards talking about a barbarian in the cells and this is where their journey begins...

Pairing: Viking!Dean /Ulfr or Wolf) x Princess!Reader, Viking!Sam (Frode) x Shield-Maiden!Ruby

Characters: Ivar (Bobby Singer), OFC’s

Warnings: angst, fluff, bad use of Norse language, light smut, unprotected sex, gentle sex, cock warming, comforting, nakedness

The wolf and the princess Masterlist

Day 25

14 days on a ship, on the sea, is more than you can bear. Dean said it will take a few more days to reach your new homeland, depending on the weather, wind and how much strength his men have left.

“Hversu ferr? (How are you?)” Dean whispers against your ear. He’s holding your waist in a tight grip, determined to press another high out of your spent body. “Do you want to make all those beautiful noises for me again, my love?”

“Yes…oh…my king.” Your body pressed to Dean’s; skin sweat-slicked, breathing more erratic than anything else you rock your hips to the rhythm Dean dictates.

It’s wild, almost animalistic to you that Dean is taking you from behind, but you must admit, you can feel him even deeper inside of you. “You’re so beautiful and wild, my flower…”

“Flower…” Whimpers leave your lips when Dean wraps his arms around your body while his thrusts become more demanding. Words in his mother tongue leave his lips and you know; your king is close to giving you his seed again.

“My queen, I love you…” His hips snap upward, and you cry out, grasping for the hands around your body. Your nails bite into his flesh and you throw your head back, leaning it against his shoulder when the pleasure fills your senses.

“My king, my wild warrior…oh—wolf…” Dean laughs behind you, loving the way you curse his name or even forbidden words when you let everything else go and just cum for him.

His arms tighten around you, he snaps his hips one, two more times against your butt before his seed fills your womb, in the hope you will give him an heir soon.

“I love you…Dean…” Your body slumps against Dean’s. You laugh, pant, and moan as he just cradles you in his arms. “That was…”

Shy again you hide your face in the palms of your hands. “A sin, our priest would say but…I liked it…a lot, Ulfr. The nuns and our priest always said we shall not enjoy lying with a man but my mother, she said…”

“She said something else?” Dean whispers against your ear. He’s nuzzling your cheek, still not letting go of you. “What did she say?”

“The queen, my mother said that your kind, and hers are different. That you would want me to enjoy our union. That the Viking’s adore their women and that no other men would dare to touch a Viking’s wife.”

“That’s true, my love. No one would dare to touch you, Y/N. Our bond, means you are untouchable, not only as you are the wife of a king.” Dean carefully helps you lie down, but he doesn’t pull out.

You got to know he has a thing for not parting your bodies too soon. Dean loves to hold you, to caress your body with his hands, lips, and teeth after you united.

“Can I ask you why you…you know…” Hiding your face into the blanket you giggle. Little snorts leave your lips and Dean, well your husband laughs with you. “Why do you like to stay inside of me?”

“I hate parting from you in any way.” He’s nibbling at your neck, smirking as you move your hand behind your head to grasp for Dean’s hair. “I love uniting with you, love the way this sweet girl I call my wife can turn into a wild wolf…”

“Ulfr…” Gasping you nod eagerly, loving he called you wolf. “I am a wolf too. That’s…”

A deep dreamily sigh leaves your lips and you feel like the young girl who met your wild husband all those years ago.

“Two more days, my love. Wind and fate are on our side.” Dean has one arm slung around your waist; holds you close to his warm body.

“How is your homeland? Is the land rough, wild, and beautiful as you?” A deep laugh behind you and your husband makes Dean yells something in Norse.

He seems to be pissed and for the first time, you got a glimpse of the wild warrior he is.

“What did he say?”

“He laughed as you called me beautiful.” His deep voice rumbles, through the night when Dean turns around to yell something at the man. “I told him you can call me anything you want to.”

Reaching out for his face you gently slide one hand over his cheek. “You are beautiful, Dean. I love your eyes. When you smile, it reaches those mysterious orbs and it makes my heart…” Shyly glancing up at Dean you don’t know how to describe how he makes you feel.

“I love your smile too, my love. I promise you will love your new home and my people. You already won Ruby’s heart. She never talked to an outsider before. My people, they didn’t make it easy for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat hearing Ruby had to fight harder than any other shield-maiden to become one of the brave female warriors.

“She’s amazing. Strong. Beautiful. Brave. I wish that one day, I’ll be able to compare with her.”

“Y/N, my princess. You don’t have to compare with Ruby.” Dean wraps his arms around you, holds you in a tight embrace and you rest your head against his chest, just letting his scent surround you.

“You are smart, beautiful, and kind. Your bravery is nothing I could ever compare with, my love. You are the reason that I am a free man.

It was you freeing a man you barely knew or rather couldn’t remember at first. I was a wild beast and you; you were the goddess taking my hand to lead me toward my fate…”

His words let your heart swell with pride, and you wrap your arms around his waist, holding Dean as tight as he holds you.

“I can’t compare with your bravery, my king but thank you. I love how you see me. No one, except for my mother and the two men following me into our new homeland was kind to me.”

“From now on, my love no one will ever dare to be unkind to you. A Viking's wife is a queen to him, a goddess. You are more than a goddess to me; you are my fortune.”

“Fortune…” Whispering the word you look up at Dean. “That’s the reason Viking’s go on a raid, to find their fortune…right?” Your eyes fill with tears when Dean nods.

“I came only for you, Y/N. I will never let you go now that I finally have you in my arms…” Giggling you snuggle into Dean’s chest.

“…and your bed…” You whisper the words but Dean hums, letting his hands wander to your ass to grope it lightly. “Ulfr…”

“No one dares to watch us, Y/N. All my men are too focused to reach our heim (home). They have wives, children, and a home to take care of. Winter is close and we need to be prepared for snow and ice.”

“I love snow…ice not that much…”

“Our winters is harder, merciless, and if you are not prepared, deadly. Don’t worry. My folks, the ones staying back at home are skilled people and prepared everything for our return. All of them know I will return with my fortune…my wife…”

Day 26

The wind is merciless. Biting your skin, making you freeze to the bones it tugs at your clothing. Dean is worriedly giving orders to his men. He can sense the storm coming, the snow - he can almost smell it.

“We have to hurry…” Dean translates when you look up at him after he yelled another order at his men. “Only a few hours. I can feel my home but, the snow and ice will make it hard to reach it if we lose more time.”

He’s wrapping you in a warm fur, runs his hands up and down your arms to keep you from freezing. “I am fine, my king. As your queen, I’ll get used to the rough winter and harsh lands. I will prove that I am worth being your fortune.”

Dean’s eyes lit up with every proud word leaving your lips. He can see the change in you. Days ago you were only shy, not an ounce self-confidence in you but now, he can see the fire of a queen burn bright in you.

“You will, my queen. Even though, you don’t have to. Everyone knows your worth and no one will dare to doubt your place by my side.”

Day 27

Spending weeks on a boat took a toll on you. When Dean helps you taking the first steps onto his homelands ground you fall to your knees, kissing the earth.

“My love?” All men, and the shield-maiden cheer at your gesture, and just now, Dean realizes there is no reason to worry as to his men and the maiden – you are one of them.

The elder women from your wedding ceremony, Gunhild, that’s her name is smiling wildly when an elder man limps toward her. He’s calling her name, saying something you don’t understand but your heart translated the words for you.

It’s her husband and he is glad she returned safely and was part of the raid to find Dean’s fortune, to find you.

“She’s proud of being part of my raid. It was her last, but she did better than anyone.” Whispering the words into your ear Dean nods at Gunhild and she gives him a toothless smile.

“People said she’s too old, but I said – she’s wise and no one knows the sea better than our Gunhild.” Ivar (Bobby) raises his weapon, calling out Gunhild’s name and you can see it, the pride flickers in the woman’s eyes before she says something, and the men start laughing.

“She has one dirty mouth, my king. It was good to bring her with us.” Ivar laughs deeply, patting your cheek before he says something to Gunhild’s husband making the crowd laugh again.

You only understand ‘ship’ and ‘wild’ but you assume, it has something to do with her husband’s libido.

“She said that from now on, the only ship she will sail is her husband’s,” Dean smirks when you try to find out what her words mean.

“That’s’…oh…” Giggling you hide your face in the palm of your cold hands.

Looking around the gathering crowd you nervously chew on your lower lip. All those men, women, and even children look at Dean before their eyes drift toward you. Your husband’s posture changes when he offers you his arm and you take it.

He’s talking slow, majestic now, like a king. You don’t understand all Dean says but thanks to Sam, who taught you a few words when Dean was busy helping his men or giving orders you can translate the most important words.

“My fellow Vikings.” Dean starts in Norse. “I have been gone way too long but, it was worth our raid. I finally found my fortune, my queen.” Dean smiles wildly when the crowd cheers. “Please welcome my love, my wife, and your queen. Princess Y/N of Y/L/N.”

An endless stream of people bowing or shaking Dean’s and your hands walked toward you and your king after his speech. Now most of them had a close look at you and Dean, well he smiles wildly, knowing his people agree to you as their queen.

When the people finally leave you, Dean and his family alone, you let out a deep breath. It was a long day and you are tired. Your husband knows he needs to bring you home so he finally gives orders to his men.

His voice is even now, and you can see the tension in his body is gone. He even smirks, laughs, and throws a snowball at his brother.

Your king is home, and so are you…

More tags in reblog.

Wolf and princess

@rosalynshields‌

#The wolf and the princess Masterlist #spn meets vikings #viking!dean #viking!dean x princess!reader #viking au #viking!Dean Winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #The wolf and the princess – Part 12 - A whole new world

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