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yandere-sins · 2 years ago

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The Knight’s Squire [Part 3]

I want to slowly catch up to the current days, so I’m trying to post a bit more ^-^ Finally married! But not necessarily a reason to be happy...

Fandom: Original Work Pairings: M!Yandere!Squire (Alec) x F!Darling!Knight (Reader) Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Activities (Masturbation, Dry (but lowkey wet) humping, Mention of cunnilingus, stripping, Lots of cum mention, Unwilling handjob, Begging, obviously Non-Con), Violence (Reader lashing out and slapping Alec, Wrestling Reader down to the ground) Arranged Marriage/Marriage of Convenience, Obsessive Behavior, Threatening loved ones in exchange for obedience from the reader, Alcohol mention, Power Imbalance, Needy Yandere

Prompt: @sintember “You didn’t think I was going to touch you, did you…?” - Is that contempt you hear, pity? Or the threat of something else out of sight? Don’t they know how cruel it is to play with your emotions?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

The only thing you dreaded more than your wedding was the night after.

You had been inconsolable all day, being ushered around like a temper-tantrum-throwing child by your mother. Woken up way before sunrise, you had been washed, dressed, bejeweled, and thrown into a carriage to drive you back to the capital while you were nothing short of apathetic. Everyone was so hyped and chipper as they chatted and praised you for looking pretty with every layer of tulle they forced you into until you finally fit their image of a pretty princess about to get married to her happy-ever-after prince.

But you weren't.

And you hated every second of it.

You hated the decor of a wedding you didn't plan. The flowers in your hands were too white, too clean for the dirty scumbag of a man you were marrying. Everyone was too happy when you felt angry and frustrated. The only tears you shed were those of contempt. Alec's eyes were sparkling with joy, and he had a smile so wide it should have gotten stitched up as he led you out of the church, the masses throwing petals into the air and doves flying over your head as you were brought to the reception. Where you—the bride—were the only one looking as if someone killed your beloved pet.

For hours you sat through congratulations, never once speaking a word. They conveniently let out the part at the ceremony where you should have said, "I don't!" Instead, the pastor just kept talking about the glorious union between you two while you scowled. He skipped vows and objection, going straight to, "You may kiss the bride," after talking everyone's ear off about how happy this day was. Most guests didn't care that Alec did all the talking, thanking them and accepting one lavish present after another. However, you did meet the eyes of some guests that looked at you pitifully. They knew this wasn't a marriage of love as Alec made it out to be, but rather one of convenience and power.

Glancing into the reflection of your gold-rimmed mirror, you had never looked at yourself in disgust before. No matter how many scars, muscles, or changes there were on your body, you always revered yourself as, well, yourself. You always saw the good things, and the man who loved you, your brother-in-arms, had done the same without ever commenting on your appearance. Alec, to his credit, probably didn't care about your looks either. But now that you stood there, clothed in silk and lace like a doll while your mom rattled off how to behave on your wedding night, you truly felt appalled by the person they had turned you into. She still assumed you never did anything indecent while you were out there fighting your battles, tensions so high you were in dire need to let off steam, and the fear of dying ever-present in your mind. But even if she knew, she wouldn't have wanted the royal maids to gossip, so she continued to tell you how to behave and accept anything your husband did to you.

Your husband. The sound of it made bile rise into your throat and left you choking on the insults you would have liked to hurl. As you walked through the gilded hallways of the residence, which Alec received as a wedding gift from his father, the only sounds to be heard were the remnants of celebration from the ballroom. You still remembered your father drunk and jolly, roaring festive songs with your new father-in-law as if the two had no care and no status in society. But you were the embarrassment of the family, eh?

The closer you got to Alec's room, the more you felt your hands tremble. Not necessarily fear, but anxiety building, anger demanding to be unleashed before your husband, who you had barely seen throughout the preparations. He made his claim and left you to deal with the damages yourself. That bastard. You would have decapitated him long before the wedding if he wasn't a prince of the kingdom you swore your fealty to.

Oh, you were going to go in there and raise the hell you should have raised the day they came for the engagement! You'd make him a head shorter, even just figuratively. There was no day you'd live under his reign, letting him decide your future for you just because he had money and status. If you had to suffer under this arrangement, so did Alec! To hell with your mother's prim and proper etiquette on how to let your husband knock you up on the wedding night. As if you'd even allow him to touch you!

The maids bowed before the door, wanting to give the newlyweds privacy, and a guard waiting outside opened the massive wood for you. After your little pep talk, you no longer trembled from your emotions. Instead, you strutted inside, confident and ready to put Alec into his place.

But you hadn't considered what awaited you in the privacy of his room.

The moment you walked in, you were already walking right up towards the bed, Alec sitting on the edge of it, stark naked. The pervert, as you've come to realize he was, had already begun masturbating way before your arrival, and you were met once again with the sight of him jerking off, his eyes darting upwards as you entered the room. With a strained gasp, your name fell off his lips as he came, jizz shooting straight forward and staining the expensive carpet while Alec moaned loudly, hips jerking into his hand fervently.

Some drops went as far as your nightgown, leaving visible stains of indecency on you despite you not having done anything but walk into the bedroom. You were speechless as you watched the white fabric turn clear. Then you looked up at him, Alec having fallen back on the mattress, breathing heavily but fixating you with his eyes intensely, his hand bopping up and down his cock still, not giving the red flesh any mercy.

"Mhm, finally," he murmured, sloppily sitting up again, his erection standing taut between his legs. His head fell to the side, eyes dazed with pleasure as he looked at you feverishly, his cheeks red and round like apples. "Come," he demanded, reaching out both hands, one dripping with semen, as he invited you to join him.

As if you were going to do that.

"No, thank you," you sneered at him, feeling nothing but disgust for your squire-turned-husband as he impatiently bopped on the edge of the bed.

"[Name]," he whined. "You're supposed to make me feel good tonight, you know?"

Clearly, he had seen the bottom of his wine glass a few times too many tonight as well. Or maybe he really was this drunk on the idea of you playing the role of his sweet, obedient wife. As if a ring and a wedding certificate would change anything between you two. It was off-putting seeing him pout and in dire need, every muscle tensing in his refined legs as if he was going to jump you any second now.

"You… didn't think I was going to touch you, did you…?" you muttered, your eyes, unfortunately, darting to his massive cock swinging with the movements he made for a moment before you scolded yourself to face Alec. The latter seemed to get needier by the second.

"Yes, yes you will!" he announced, the assertiveness of his words lost with his whiny voice.

"No, I most definitely won't. I am just here because I was forced to come, but I will go back now."

"Noooo!" he mewled. You were about to turn around when you heard the loud thud of something hitting the ground, your head snapping back instinctively as you suspected danger. But all you found was Alec's pitiful form on the floor, crawling towards you with alarming dexterity.

"I waited so long," he whimpered, grabbing your ankles with a bone-crushing grip. You gasped as he pulled you to the floor with him, a fight of limbs ensuing as he climbed on top of you, and you tried to wrestle him off. You were supposed to be the stronger one. The one with all the muscles and skilled hands after years out there fighting, but maybe his reaction was just a few seconds better than yours since he was younger. Perhaps it was because you still harbored a tiny bit of respect for your country that you hesitated initially. But he pinned you down after just a few seconds of a scuffle, pressing your arms apart while straddling your hips.

"I wanted you every damn day out there! I stood by your bedside, wishing you'd invite me in; let me taste your sweet little cunt! Don't you remember how you'd loll in bed indecently when I brought you home after drinking too much? I could barely control myself. I- I…"

Stopping himself in the middle of his tirade, Alec breathed heavily as he stared down at you, his cock pressed into your stomach. He began rocking his hips, dragging precum all over your nightgown until it soaked through and onto your skin. A moan escaped him despite Alec biting his lip, his eyes gleaming with lust as he watched his cock slip over your body. "I want you! Always! And I need you to touch me. I need it even just this one time!"

His confession fell on utter repulsion inside you, and you prepared to scream at him when he pulled your left hand off the ground. This time it was you trying to pin it right back on the wooden floor, but somehow he overpowered you, squeezing your hand between his and your stomach. You let out a horrified gasp as you felt his cock against your palm, and Alec groaned in delight, rutting into the space between your body and your hand.

"I promise I'll take care of it after tonight! I'll never bother you again! Just let me… let me have this once, please! Please, please, please…" he gasped in between pushes, his pace rough and erratic. You could feel the hot, pulsing muscle ready to cum, and with even more horror, you realized it was going to shoot all over you. He groaned loudly, holding back nothing from the servants outside the door and screaming your name as you sprung into action, your body tensing and jerking to throw him off you, but it was already too late.

Despite your best efforts, you moving so abruptly only helped with spreading his jizz farther. Your face, tits, stomach, and hands were all sullied with his cum while Alec convulsed with every spurt of his orgasm, still laying half on top and half on the floor next to you. His face was shrouded in bliss, a sight of heavenly pleasure resting on him as he didn't seem to stop any time soon.

For you, it came as a total shock that you were suddenly sprayed with his essence, way before you could say or properly do anything against it. Just another way he had to ruin your life more, and the disgust raging inside of you made you tremble again as you raised your hand, jolting it over his cheek before you knew what you were doing. You weren't known for such rash actions, for using violence to get your point across, but besides hatred and anger, there was nothing inside of you that could have stopped you. There was no reasoning with Alec, and neither with you it seemed.

He looked at you wide-eyed, surprised you'd raise your hand against him. You could only speculate that no one ever dared to treat the prince like that, making it all the more shocking to him. However, even after letting yourself be pushed over your limits, your anger hadn't resided, and you were still trembling. Hitting him didn't even make you feel better and it was so aggravating that nothing could help soothe your soul.

"It's okay," he breathed, his expression turning worried as he reached out, cupping your face in his dirty hands, and you could feel his thumb rub his cum further over your skin. "You can hit me if it helps, I don't mind anything you do to me. There…"

Lifting your hand to his face, he encouraged you to strike him again with some soft claps on his cheek. But now that he was offering himself up as a sandbag, violence lost all its enticement. Alec clambered back on top of you when you didn't react, pulling your face closer to his and stopping only inches away from his. "I don't…" he started, his breath smelling like alcohol as it hit you, and you scrunched your nose, which made him bite his lip. In shame or delight, you couldn't tell.

"I don't mind it if you… hurt me," he mumbled. A lie that was not hard to figure out. "But we'll always be together now, and I plan to make you as happy as you make me. So if you need to hit me, scream at me, ignore me, I will endure it. For us. You can do whatever you want with me."

He looked down at you with puppy eyes, large and round and filled with a silent plea that he voiced before you could tell him all the things you wanted to do to him and how he'd regret ever falling in love with you.

"But please, don't hate me too much, okay?"

"Too late," you replied bitterly, and it was strange to see him tear up, hurt and aggrieved over your statement. A prince brought to tears by his spouse not playing along was a sight people would have talked about for centuries if they could have seen it. Would they have seen you as the victim or the bad guy? Would they have tried to romanticize the life of you two unlikely spouses or written dramatic operas about it?

It didn't matter to you at that moment.

"Don't," he whispered, pulling you into a kiss, his lips softly fluttering against yours.

"Or what?" you replied, punching a fist into his stomach. Alec shuddered, the punch not hard enough to throw him off but to make him stop.

"There are… other ways to hurt," he pressed out between clenched teeth. "Starting with your little boy toy."

His eyes snapped up again, and there was nothing left of the lovey-dovey crap he had broadcasted to you all day. Now, they were wide open with malice, seething, dripping hatred as he talked about your former lover. "I can strip him and his family of their name, their land, their titles, and then I'll do the same to your family. When I'm done with them, they will have to beg on the streets to buy a loaf of bread. I'll let them suffer just as much as you force me to, and when I am done, you'll come crawling back, begging me to spare you of a fate much worse, I promise."

This time, you shuddered. Not out of anger or frustration, but of guilt and fear. A part of you recognized how insane he sounded. How little of those promises he could actually do. But you had been away from the noble life for so long, you didn't know what and what not he was truly capable of. While you harbored hatred for your own family for what they did, there was a massive part of you not wanting your beloved to suffer any more than he already did after you broke up with him because of this.

"So if you know what's good for you…" Alec muttered, still in his crazed state even while he stood up, his cock springing up again and right into your line of sight as you flinched, turning your head away. "Then get on the bed and let me taste you. Because I am so sick and tired of waiting for you to come around."

Stalking back to the bed, he climbed on, laying down in what would be a life-long supply of pillows for a mere farmer. Alec lounged between velvet and furs, lazily stroking his length and beckoning you closer. You clamped your legs shut, unwilling to comply with his orders to obey him. Instead sitting there on the cold floor, he left you behind on it like a dog and not his dear wife. For the first time, as you saw him lay between luxury with a look full of contempt, you felt as if he looked at you, not in admiration from below, but as if you were a mere whore and he was the king paying for you.

But as the image of your former beloved sparked up in your mind, of him laughing and happy, telling you of the life he'd live with you by his side and the family you'd have together, all you felt was guilt for not being able to give him at least a good life, if not one with you by his side. It made you feel like you had no choice but to comply if you didn't want to ruin lives just like yours, which was already in shambles.

So you gulped, standing up, slowly trudging over towards Alec, whose expression changed to conceited. "Take it off," he ordered, waving his free hand at your nightgown.

And for the first time in your whole life, you felt real shame as his eyes roamed your body, lips curling into a smile and a word formed on his lips.

"Now, I'm going to feast."

#Sintember 2022 #Yandere Squire #Yandere!Squire #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

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ariadnasdiary · 2 years ago

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#Muse answer to Basic Q&A ★

Mun Ari: I want to thank the cute anon-chan that sent me this questioner! ♡

Whats your name? Is there a meaning behind it ? :

Ariadna: *giggles* My full name is Ariadna Koizumi Martínez, nice to meet you!

According to my mom and internet jeje: Ariadna means "kind-hearted", "compassionate" or "pure". I like it very much, it's cute.

Any prefered Alias or nickname that you'll like to be called as? :

Ariadna: You can call me simply Ari, everyone calls me like that.

What kind of person do you think you are? :

Ariadna: hmm... I think I could describe myself as shy, insecure and quite clumsy. However, I consider myself to be kind, patient and honest. I’m an easy-going and relaxed person and as such I rarely get in trouble.

When is your birthday? How do you celebrate it? :

Ariadna: My birthday is on the 21 of November! I love celebrating my b-day! Is the best day of the year to me *giggles*. I like to do different things each year, but I like that that day I'm like a princess and I get to choose! I like to be pampered and spoiled! I want to have fun from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep!

What's your age? ：

Ariadna: *proud* I'm 18! In my country I'm an adult you see~

What's your gender?：

Ariadna: I'm a woman as you can see ^^

How tall are you? Are you satisfied with your height?:

Ariadna: I'm 1.56 m... I'm not going to lie: I'm not that happy with my height since it comes with disadvantages. In my country I was considered to be in the mean height for women, maybe a little shorter, but I'm mostly so short in comparison with many! I wish I could have reached at least the 1.60 m though...

Where did you come from?：

Ariadna: I'm from Mexico! More specifically from the capital, Mexico City!!

What charm do you suppose that you possess？：

Ariadna: *fidgeting her fingers* I-I'm not sure I have such a thing... but people sometimes says that my empathy or kindness are what makes me charming. Others says that my height or even my shyness are charming, but I wouldn't know or any of them.

Do a voice impression, will you?~：

Ariadna: *blushes* F-From who? Eh...

*lowering the voice* "Yuriii... Shortcake... have you seen my phone?? I'm so booreeed!! Hey, shortcake~ do something to entertain me~" *giggles all red*

Name one of your favorite activities, can you?~ ：

Ariadna: I really like writing on my diary! Also, I truly enjoy either explore the city or to stay at home relaxing with a good book or play with my phone! Baking is also a thing I enjoy doing from time to time~

How do you greet someone in the morning?：

Ariadna: At school I simply say good morning to my classmates or friends. To show my respect towards elders, I learnt to bow accordingly.

However, at home is different: I greet Yuri with a simple 'good morning', but I greet Kino with a morning kiss either in the cheek or in the l-lips... depends! *blushes*.

Back in my country, it is a cultural thing to greet your friends with a kiss on the cheek and acquitances with words alone.

What's the last thing you say to someone before going to bed?：

Ariadna: To Yuri, I simply tell him 'good night' and to Kino I give him a good night kiss and a hug *blushing*

Favorite possession (item)? ：

Ariadna: My diary is my most precious possession.

Why not talk about your hairstyle a little?~：

Ariadna: What an odd question... *giggles*. Well, I usually style my hair in a half ponytail. Is simple and I like how it looks on me! I do change my hairstyle from time to time or decorate it with some accessories.

Any unique characteristics on you?：

Ariadna: Aside the fact I'm quite short? It could be the way I dress that is strange to where I actually reside. Oh! At least here in Japan, my appearance is considered to be a little unusual since I have Latina characteristics ^^'

Do you have a special nickname to call someone as?

Ariadna: *blushes* I-I only give nicknames to those I'm closed to. I like calling Naomi 'Nami', but it is an inside joke. Yuri is Yuri. And to Kino is varies: I mostly call him 'Kino', but when I feel like it I call him 'amor', 'querido', 'my love', 'honey', and 'your highness' to mock him.

What's your favorite color and why?:

Ariadna: I like all colors really! But I love pink and lilac above them all!

What do you enjoy doing?：

Ariadna: I mentioned writing is my main hobby, exploring the city and play on my phone... sometimes baking too.

What's your special skill?：

Ariadna: Is keeping Kino in line considered to be one special skill? I dare to say I'm good at giving advices and listening to people. Pampering and comforting people too!

Demonstrate a short love confession! I dare you~ :

Ariadna: *blushing* Oh no, please no! I-Is embarrassing!

Mun Ari: You have to ^^'

Ariadna: eck! W-Well... *closing her eyes* I love you. I want to be by your side for as long as we can. I never felt like this before, but I only feel like it when I'm with you. You make me so happy... I-I can’t go on! Next! *blushing*

Your favorite food, and why?：

Ariadna: I love Japanese and Mexican food! But also Arabic food! Specially noodles or Ramen, sushi, pozole and curry!

Your favorite drink, and why?：

Ariadna: I love tea, coffee, calpis and tepache!

Any favorite book?：

Ariadna: hmm... pride and prejudice I think.

Any favorite genre of movie? Hmm, why?：

Ariadna: I love comedy, romance and fantasy! I like to have a good time when watching a movie and to get absorbed in the story! I know sometimes they picture love as something irrealistic or exaggerated or 'perfect', but I know is not true, yet it doesn’t affect the fact I enjoy watching them!

Favorite game? (If none can skip)：

Ariadna: Any Mario game are so much fun!

Favorite music? Why?：

Ariadna: I like pop and classical music. One for dancing and singing and the other to relax!

What's your weakness？：

Ariadna: S-Socializing... presenting to a public... being rude...

Anyone that you respect？~：

Ariadna: I respect those who are hard-working and passionate with what they love! Those who work to achieve what they dream! The brave and extrovert too.

Do you have a wish?：

Ariadna: *a little sad* I wish I could see my family once again. To apologize for what I did back then and to make them part of my life was again...

Anything to say to those that are watching your interview?~：

Ariadna: thank you for coming! It was fun and entertaining!

#ariadnasdiary #ariadna koizumi martínez #ariadnaxkino #ari answers #muse answer to basic Q&A ask #diabolik lovers latino #diabolik lovers oc

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winterrose527 · 3 years ago

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Prompt: Person A backs into Person B’s car.

Truly adored this one. Here you go, my love!

****

He was really starting to hate King’s Landing.

It wasn’t that he’d ever liked it. Even when they’d come to the capital for their eighth grade class trip, he and Jon couldn’t quite understand why anyone would want to live here.

And now, he did.

Well he didn’t want to but he did live here. He had for about two months. His family company was expanding and as the heir apparent he was in charge of opening the new office, a soft launch for his future as its leader.

With that in mind, he’d gone with very little argument. It wasn’t that there weren’t good reasons. It had given him a convenient excuse to get out of a relationship that had run its course without hurting anyone’s feelings, he was getting to build a team from the ground up, and he’d even gotten a pretty great apartment close to the beach.

Not that he could go anytime other than at night because it was too hot. And even with the salt air it still smelled like garbage.

None of that was anything compared to the people. This city was like a magnet for selfish, aspirational, people with non-existent moral compasses. And not only that, but there were a lot of them.

Which led to his least favorite thing about King’s Landing: the traffic.

It felt like he lost hours of his day to traffic. He would have taken the subway, but the line that would have taken directly from his doorstep to his office (the exact reason he’d chosen the apartment) was under emergency construction, because of course it was.

The light was green and yet the car in front of him wasn’t moving. He looked and saw that the driver was – is she plucking her eyebrows?

King’s Landing had turned him into something he hated. Robb Stark was officially a honker now.

“MOVE!” he yelled, even though his windows were up as he lay on his horn.

As though he was inconveniencing her, she made a big show of stopping what she was doing and started to drive. He went to place his foot on the gas and -bam.

“What the fuck?” he asked the general world.

A gold – yes gold – convertible had just backed up into his SUV.

He got out of the car, ready to let this person bear the brunt of every bit of frustration he’d been feeling for the past two months.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked as soon as his door closed, it was getting closer as they came around his car, “I am so sorry!”

“Yeah well –“ he started and then stopped. “I…uh… are you okay?”

It wasn’t exactly what he had planned on saying but he also hadn’t planned on the person who hit him being the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.

She shook her head, slender fingers brushing back naturally golden hair (after two months here he could spot the difference), “I’m fine, I am just so embarrassed. And sorry. Is your car damaged?”

“Um, I don’t know,” he admitted, realizing he should have been thinking about that rather than wondering how her legs could seemingly go on for miles though she would hardly make it up to his shoulder. He started walking towards her and she turned and lead him around his car. And then bent over. “Looks good to me.”

“Thank the gods,” she said with a hand to her chest, straightening up and peering over at him, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He nodded, “It was just a little love tap.” Her eyes widened and he blushed, “What a stupid fucking thing to say, huh?”

She laughed, “Original, though.” Then held out her hand, “I’m Myrcella Baratheon.”

He shook her small one, and introduced himself, “Robb Stark. Can I ask you something?” She nodded, her hand still in hers, “What is a girl like you doing with a car like this?”

This girl was all class. Her structured white shorts and silk button down, fresh face, pale nails as opposed to the garish red pointed ones so many women down here wore.

The car was decidedly not.

“It’s not mine,” she told him and his stomach clenched, wondering if it belonged to a boyfriend that was clearly in no way good enough for her. “It’s my older brother’s. He’s… the actual worst.” He opened his mouth and she smiled, taking her hand up and holding it up in front of her, “The worst. Look at his license plate.”

He glanced at it and saw that it read KING JOFF.

He laughed, “It hurts.”

“Hey Robb, I know I just rear ended you and all, but can I show you something?” she asked.

Anything he might of said. Instead he just nodded.

She turned and walked down the length of the car and he followed her and then she pointed at the rearview mirror.

“Do I need to see a neurologist or is that not a mirror?” she asked.

He leaned over and his jaw dropped, “That is not a mirror… I think it’s some sort of…mosaic? And definitely not legal. You could have taken out the whole city with this thing.”

“Thank the gods, I thought I was going crazy, it’s just that my car is in the shop-,” he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes and smiled, self-deprecatingly, “For a standard tune up. I should have known there would be a catch when he offered to let me borrow this one.”

“Yeah I don’t recommend you drive this thing,” he told her, then asked stupidly, “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

He watched as a blush rose on her cheeks and she demurred, “That’s alright. I can’t inconvenience you anymore than I already have. Thank you, though.”

He nodded, because he did have a meeting he was supposed to be at in about ten minutes.

“Well… could I maybe have your number?” he asked.

She nodded immediately, “Yes, of course, I won’t be on his insurance so please just get a quote and send me whatever it is. I’ll make it right.”

“Oh,” he shook his head, realizing that while that was the normal reason to have asked the woman who just rear ended you for her number it was absolutely not something that had even occurred to him. “No that was actually my way of asking you out.”

A smile landed on her face so quickly that it brought one to his own.

“You’re asking me out?” she asked.

“Trying to,” he agreed.

She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking something over and asked, “And what if this was my car?”

“Um,” he laughed as he thought about it, “Well I’d still ask you out. I would just never ever agree to drive anywhere with you in it.”

She giggled, and then informed him in a stage-whisper, “I drive a hybrid.”

“Family dinners must be interesting,” he teased.

“Oh you have no idea,” she smiled.

“I’d like to,” he told her.

She grinned again and then knocked a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses off of her head and onto her nose, “You know, you’re a lot smoother than the last guy I rear ended.” He opened his mouth and she told him, “Kidding.Do you have your phone?”

He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. She typed her number in and then handed the phone back to him.

“Are you going to be alright getting this back in there?” he asked, gesturing to what looked to be a private garage.

She nodded, “Thankfully he didn’t cover the windshield in crystals.”

He chuckled, “No because that would be tacky. Well get home safe, Myrcella Baratheon. I’ll call you soon.”

She gave him a heart stopping grin and then opened her door and eased into the driver’s seat. He went around his car and got back in, easing back into traffic.

Thankfully it was fairly light the rest of the way so he was only a little bit late for his meeting.

It was a busy day, some final interviews that people had wanted him to take part in, some calls with his Dad and Jon up north. So it wasn’t until later, as he walked the beach still in his suit, his shoes off and the sand beneath his feet, that he had a chance to call her.

He scrolled through to M, but Mom was the last entry.

“Was it Marcella?” he asked the sea.

He scrolled up just to be sure, but the only Marcella in his phone was a girl he’d met on a vacation in the Summer Isles. He deleted the contact because he hadn’t spoken to her in a full five years.

No girl had ever not given him her number before. He knew that it happened, it just hadn’t ever happened to him. There weren’t many that he asked for, and only when he felt something that seemed reciprocated. And though they’d only had a limited conversation, it seemed like they had.

She’d been so sweet and sorry and cute, pointing out her brother-

He scrolled up to the Ks and would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy sighing in relief when he saw King Joff waiting for him.

Without hesitating he pressed call and listened as it rang once, twice.

“Hello?” a soft voice asked.

“I’m uh, looking to speak to the king,” he greeted her.

Her giggle filled his ear, “Don’t even mention him I am in SUCH trouble. How are you Robb Stark?”

“I’m better now that I found your number, two scares in one day? Is this what it’s going to be like with you?” he asked.

“I’m free tomorrow night,” she informed him, “Want to find out?”

***

Two months later…

“And of course,” he sighed as he slowed down behind a bright yellow SUV.

“I would think you’d be used to the traffic by now and besides,” Myrcella noted at his side, “I would have thought you’d be fine being late for dinner with my family.”

“Your mother already hates me enough,” he pointed out, “I can’t afford to be late on top of being northern, being a man, being unrelated to you, being sexually attracted to you, being liberal, being alive…”

The light had turned green and yet the cars in front of him hadn’t moved. He went to go honk his horn but Myrcella grabbed his hand before he could.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hello,” he returned.

“Do you know what’s nice about traffic?” she asked. He raised his brow and she smiled, “I get to do this.”

With that she leaned in and kissed his lips softly. He kissed her back less so, his fingers carding into her hair as she opened her mouth to his.

Cars had started honking all around him, but in that moment he didn’t care.

He was really starting to love King’s Landing.

#fanfiction #modern au #robbcella

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katara0524 · 3 years ago

Text

Impromptu Ramblings about the NEO:TWEWY Demo

In case y'all weren't aware, I've been a pretty big fan of TWEWY for a couple years now, and with the sequel coming out next month, the excitement I feel for this game is greater than ever :) I played the Demo for the first time yesterday, and following a couple views of some livestreams of others playing it, I felt like sharing my (very ramble-y) thoughts prior to the release of the full game. This post WILL contain spoilers for both TWEWY and NEO:TWEWY, so if you want to avoid those from now on, please block the tags: #twewy spoilers, #ntwewy spoilers, #neo twewy spoilers, #ntwewy, and #neo twewy ^_^ Oh, and if you wanna keep up with any other posts I make about my experience with this game, please refer to the tag "kat plays neo twewy" :)

-First things first: I have not watched the Final Trailer and I don't plan on doing so to avoid spoilers, especially after the pre-release era of KH3 where a lot of the later trailers spoiled a lot of the endgame content. That being said, I've seen some minor screenshots from the final trailer including what many believe to be characters from the original TWEWY, namely Shiki and Joshua. That is all I know about the Final Trailer and I would very much like to remain as blind as possible going into NEO :)

-The very first cutscene was quite ominous in the sense that this game is likely going to be about "changing fate" (a recently common theme in Squeenix games, which I do appreciate), perhaps leading off from the end of A New Day in the OG and trying to stop an Inversion of Shibuya. Also worth noting that A New Day had similar aspects in which the main character experienced "future visions" of tragic events, although in A New Day these events were not able to be changed, while in NEO it seems like one of the main "powers" our protagonist has is specifically to rewrite these events and avoid a "bad ending." Very interesting indeed!

-I really like the revamped comic book style dialogue scenes, it's much more fluid and modern, which is an excellent direction for the series to take!

-I would love to have an actual PokemonGO knockoff of Final Fantasy creatures, please Squeenix that would be incredibleeeeee

-Also the LINE stickers??? Are so cute???

-I would just like to point out that Fret is an absolute treasure throughout this entire demo, he's hilarious and I will protect him with my life

-UHHHH don't like that Fret picked up some Reaper Pins just out of nowhere.....or the fact that they're apparently popular all over Shibuya.............did y'all not learn anything from the OG game or what lmao

-Okay so when I first got the "curry or ramen" scene and heard NPCs talking about the new curry place replacing the old ramen place I became IMMENSELY distressed that Ramen Don was totally cut from the game because....well, Ramen Don is a King okay?? But I'm glad to learn that no, he didn't fall off the face of the earth, he's still in business and he's the one opening the curry restaurant lolol. PHEW, crisis averted!

-.....I don't like the sudden appearance of a Wall Reaper and being able to read NPC thoughts. Wtf happened when they left the ramen place??? Are they playing the Game alive somehow?

-Okay so I have my own theories about this "Swallow" character and what they're up to but considering this is only the Demo and I still Have No Idea What's Happening, I'm just gonna say that I think Swallow intentionally led Rindo and Fret to the Crossing so they could join the Game. I mean, add in the fact that Swallow still communicates with Rindo during the Game and you've got yourself a suspicious character right there lol

-"Hey they're shooting off fireworks!" Fret honey that's not fireworks oof (see also: "*laughs* I'm in danger")

-WOOOOOO way to traumatize Rindo right off the bat like that LMAOO

-The visuals for the intro are VERY GOOD, the song is pretty decent until it gets all "screamo" (which I absolutely cannot stand sorry lol)

-Shoka is every Customer Service employee ever and I respect that

-Susukichi went from being "meh" to "WOW THIS GUY IS FUN" in the span of 10 seconds and I also respect that (he is also built like an Absolute Unit which is hilarious)

-The Wall Reapers (and just Reapers in general) seem.....way nicer and more helpful this time around?? Like in the OG the Wall Reapers were SO RUDE gfhjgjdfkhn and yeah I'm sure we'll get some like that but the juxtaposition of the first Wall Reaper in the OG compared to the first one in NEO is insane.

-The puzzles are quite a bit more entertaining this time around even if it's generally the same "fetch quest" formula lol

-"Rindo's Group" way to go Fret HFKJDGHSDFKJ mans really left the default name in there lmao

-OKAYOKAYOKAY so to those who aren't aware I am a MASSIVE SIMP for Sho Minamimoto, he's my absolute favorite and I think about him daily. HIS INTRODUCTION IS. INCREDIBLE. I LOVE IT SM.

-GOD hearing him actually SPEAK FULL SENTENCES is just SO SURREAL I love this sm

-Also the remix of his theme???? NEO TRANSFORMATION????? IT'S SO GOOD????????? It's like gone from a Boss Theme to a more triumphant sounding theme and I am HERE for it (every version of Transformation is just INCREDIBLE and getting a new one is even better)

-I Love Him, Your Honor

-Also idk how exactly but it's kinda weird seeing Sho in the OG vs NEO, cuz while he's mostly the same Insane Math-Obsessed Catboy, he's.....calmed down quite a bit?? Like OG made a whole point of how poorly he cooperates with others (not to mention just being completely unhinged and trying to kill everyone), whereas here in NEO he's......actually kinda working with others??? HELLO???? Sir what happened to you and Neku during those 3 years I would love to know all about it

-I guarantee you Sho is still probably scheming shite and will likely pull some total insane BS later down the road, and I am very much looking forward to that. Also, is he looking for a certain Pin or something??? Cuz he keeps talking about different Pins and even mentions "this is just another Psych Pin" like he's actively looking for a Pin to do something with. Maybe it also has to do with the "latent powers of Players" thing he mentioned as well??? What is this dude UP TO oml (also is he in contact with Neku at all?? they're both technically fugitives at this point right?? WHAT HAPPENED AFTER A NEW DAY I AM BEGGING YOU)

-I seems like Sho ALSO has an idea of what's going on in this specific game (even if he won't admit it straightforward). Per his quote "The game's 142,857. Factor it out," he's essentially saying, "This game is a neverending cyle, figure out how to get out of it" (or at least that's what I got from his "cyclic number" nonsense lolol)

-I do like how Sho mostly stays out of sight until he's needed for a battle or assisting with a mission, that's kind of on par with his whole "uncooperative" quirk from the OG, plus he might literally have to stay out of sight of other Reapers and Players considering he's likely breaking the rules of the Game (not surprising considering him and Neku broke practically every rule in the book during OG)

-The nicknames for Sho- I can't- They're so FUNNYYYY GFHJSDFKJ

-He goes from being called "Pi-Face" and "Tabooty" in OG to "Mr. Minami" and "M-Teezy" in NEO LMAOO

-(Wowee I just realized I've been mostly talking about Sho oopsies sorry y'all, this is what I meant by thinking about him almost daily he is THAT much of a fav of mine ghfkjsd)

-Okay RIP Fret and Rindo for not getting literally ANY explanation as to how the Game works OOF, that is kinda cringe that whoever gets the Pin earns points, not whoever erases the Noise (which like I understand but also URRRGGHHH I WANNA SEE THE SQUAD SUCCEED)

-"I should be going home now it's getting late" Oh you sweet summer child-

-Also love the mention of parents in this game???? KH you could learn a thing or two from TWEWY (poor Rindo's mom fhgjkdh)

-KUBO IS HILARIOUS I SUPPORT HIM AND HIS GROSS FACE (also thank you Final Trailer thumbnail for spoiling my suspicions about him very cool smh)

-Kaie is a LAD I also support him, go King type those funky texts I believe in you

-FRET PLS STOP SCANNING FHGJKSDHKJFGHFKJ he's like me when I scan in OG during Weeks 2 and 3 and see Taboo Noise coming after me ghfjdshfj

-Also Rindo can you stay off your phone for TWO SECONDS ik you're trying to figure things out but Fret is a jelly boi and I don't want him to be upset with you my guy

-Sho being an actual sorta mentor to the kiddos?? Who are you sir this is so unlike you ghfgskj what happened to the guy who tried shooting children in the face 8 times over LMAO (granted he's probably just using them but it's still nice to see him actually cooperating and sharing knowledge with the kiddos aaaaa)

-EYO EIJI OJI THE TIKTOK INFLUENCER IS BACK LMAO

-hgjkfshgkjf "we aren't glorifying capitalism on my watch" THATS SO FUNNY TO ME GFHJFSDGHJKS (also an all-orange ensemble is disgusting you deserve jail for one thousand years fkn Cheddar Goldfish Cheezit ass woman)

-WICKED TWISTERS NAME DROP EYOOO we love to see it

-gfhsgjf Poor Rindo embarassing himself for the sake of the Game that's incredible

-R e t u r n t o M O N K E. That is all.

-Dialogue during boss battles is HELLA cool i love that

-HHHHH THE KANON SCENE MADE ME A N G E R Y FRET STOP SIMPING MY GUY says the girl with a Literal Simp Encyclopedia and simps for pixels on a screen daily

-Can't wait to see the other Reapers :eyes emoji:

-CAN'T WAIT TO SEE NAGI MY BELOVED YEAHHHH WOOOOOO AAAAND that's about it for the demo lolol, I absolutely CANNOT wait for next month, this game is gonna be INCREDIBLE holy hell Prepare for more simping, more screaming, and more vibing from Yours Truly :) I fully intend on sharing more general thoughts like this on both Tumblr and Twitter so it's not just reblog-retweet-reblog-retweet with the occasional comment fhgskjd

If you wanna witness my insanity up close and personal I have a Square Enix Discord server called Sea Side Dreamers! You can look it up on Disboard, or you can add me on Discord @Katara0524#9244 for a direct link :) We have topics about Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, NieR, and ofc TWEWY (as well as other topics!), so if you want some good ol' chaos and chitchat, you're more than welcome to join!

#neo twewy #ntwewy #neo twewy spoilers #ntwewy spoilers #twewy #neo: the world ends with you #the world ends with you #twewy spoilers #twewy rindo #rindo kanade #twewy fret #tosai furesawa #twewy sho #sho minamimoto #long post #also shameless Discord plug lmaooo #kat plays neo twewy

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

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I wasn't really planning on continuing this but at the same time I wanted to continue so here we go-

Also I edited some of the misspellings in chapter one.

TW/Tags: Still a sadistic bitch // Still gay af (female x female reader paring) // This was based on the anime Shiki, but I don't promise it'll be any good // Cursing // Your mom is suffering // Some almost intimate moments in the end that could or not be considered smexy // Also depressed vengeful Reader.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Prey - Chapter Two

[ 1 . 2 (...)]

Tick, tock

How long have you been here?

Tick, tock

How long have you been unconscious?

You don't know how you came here. How long have you been out? Well, you don't know, but at least you know where you are.

' Home, sweet, home. How I thought I wouldn't see you again.' You thought.

Your mind is a little fuzzy, you can't recall how you managed to get back home, especially on top of your own bed wearing your pajamas. You don't remember changing, but honestly, what the hell do you remember??

You only remember… Darkness… The woods, the moonlight-

"- D-Demon!" You panic as the memories of last night settle in. That woman, that vampire, she- She had bitten you!

You try to get off of your bed but your body feels heavy. You don't have nearly as much strength as you had yesterday. There is buzzing noise inside your head.

"- [Y/N]?!" You think… You think you heard your mother calling you.

You can hear her running towards your bedroom door, she opens it and her frightened face only worsen at seeing you on the floor.

Helpless.

"- [Y/N]! Please don't- What happened to you?! Did you fall?! Need so help, honey?" Your mother doesn't know what she should tell you. She is confused, disheartened, worried. She wants to ask you what happened but, right now, she is more worried about your current state.

"- Don't Force yourself too much while you have such a bad fever, okay?" She told you, hoping you would listen to her this time.

The first time she told you to stay in bed you didn't respond.

And now, you don't seem to be able to respond once again.

Voices, there are voices buzzing inside your head. The voice of your mom isn't nearly as powerful as the constant storm inside your brain. It's repetitive, it's loud, it's too strong for you. You feel a strong need to answer them, despite your best attempt to ignore them.

You need to answer your mom, or else you only make her more and more worried about you.

"- Y-" But you can't. They won't let you.

' Don't tell her, don't tell her, don't tell her, don't tell her.' It 's all it says. Again, and again.

They aren't telling you a possibility, they're commanding you.

"- I-I won't-" You manage to muster. But to both your relief and despair, your mother interpreted as you answering her over the voices.

"- Oh- Thank goodness dear, you haven't- I- I really shouldn't have doubted you!" She gives you a half-hearted laugh. She doesn't seem to be able to process her thoughts into words correctly, but you know exactly what she is thinking. She thought you were completely gone, she thought you had gotten the disease that every person inside the village is doomed to get.

' Maybe you could still be saved, somehow.' Was what she hoped for.

' I'm really sorry for doubting your strength, [Y/N]...' Was what she thought. Glad to be reminded that her daughter is one tough cookie.

But inside your heart, inside your very soul, you know that you need to tell her the truth. You can't let her believe that this is just a disease, you need to warn her about the nobles, about the vampires living inside your village!

While the voices ordered you to obey, your pathetic inner voice was telling you to be stronger than this! To listen to yourself and be honest.

' Mom- Mom, please, get out of the village, get help from the capital-' You screamed from deep inside, not being able to overpower the other voices, not being able to put your thoughts into words as your mom helped you get back in your bed.

"- Please, take some rest okay? I know that these past few days haven't been easy on us."

' Don't tell her, don't tell her, don't tell her.'

' Mom, please, I-'

' Don't tell her, don't tell her, don't tell her.'

"- I know that, Carol was a really dear friend to you… I know that seeing her get more and more depressed as the days went on after her brother's death was really hard for you… I-I'm really sorry you had to witness that…" Moms, sometimes they just wish their children didn't have to see the terrible things around them, it doesn't matter how old and mature their child is. Mother's love is reckless.

' Don't tell her, don't tell her, don't tell her.'

' Mom! Please, I- I just don't want to-'

' Don't tell her, don't tell her, don't tell her.'

It doesn't matter how hard you try, you don't seem to be able to warn her. Your head is aching from all the voices talking in your head. You can practically feel the venom in your veins. The demon had put it's venom inside of you and was now plaguing your mind.

"- Just, please rest here okay? I'll see if there is any doctor that could help us, I heard that there is one currently resting in the town's inn." Your mother tried to be positive about the situation. She didn't want you to feel scared about the situation, and neither did she want to show you how terrified she is of you… Suddenly passing away.

But you have already noticed. You have already seen in her eyes the fear, the acknowledgement that you may not survive. And even a person that was considered tough by your loved ones, was starting to realize how unfortunate your situation truly was.

Death was a horrifying concept on it's own, but you didn't mind that. You have accepted that, but-

It still hurts, it hurts so much. And to make matters worse, you realized that you have failed.

You have failed your village.

You have failed Carol.

You have failed your mom!

"- … M-Mom-!" You managed to say. But could you continue the whole phrase?

The voices haven't stopped, they just changed their phrase.

' Don't you dare, don't you dare, don't you dare-' Over and over again, but now way more aggressively than "don't tell her".

"- Yes, dear?" And once again, her expression is one of mixed affection and fear. She wanted to help you the best way she can, but she doesn't know what to do… Please, let this be a nightmare, maybe a spook, a scare, maybe you have gotten a cold or something mild as that. Please let this be fake.

"- … I love you." It's all your body has let you tell her, but deep inside, you wished you could have warned her about the family of nobles. Or at least…. Asked if she could spend the night with you.

' I'm scared, mom. I'm really scared '

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

As expected, the doctor that came in to check on you, diagnosed you with the same symptoms as the "disease" everyone has been catching.

He stated that you presented a really early stage of development of the disease, which caused your mother to get hopeful that maybe, maybe there was still something that could cure you.

But… The doctor told her that the disease was irreversible. What a strange choice of wording.

Your mother was distraught of course. She is in denial, there is no way you're going to die because of a common cold or whatever this was! She just- Couldn't accept that her own daughter was dying.

She couldn't accept that these were your last days, she just couldn't.

And although she looked at you with the same love and warm embrace, you knew how she felt. You knew what she was thinking.

You tried talking to her, but every time you would respond, the voices gave you an order to say something else. And you couldn't resist replying to them, as every time you replied, they stopped screaming inside your head. It's been two days since you didn't meet her again, yet her influence was still strong inside of you.

You had a week to say your last goodbyes before dying… Or, worse. You remember what the mistress told you that day, but you didn't know what she could possibly be talking about, but now, oh, now you think there is something worse than death awaiting you.

"- Do you know how vampires pass their curse to mortals?"

"- Carol is a special one indeed. But also, she can't keep her mouth shut for a second. How did you manage to deal with her while she was alive?"

While remembering what the demon said, the voices inside your head have become louder, mocking you, laughing at you. Your body is in so much pain, but you don't have any strength to call your mom, to call for help.

Carol. She said Carol. Carol talked to her, Carol told her your name-

Carol is alive. But how can Carol be alive? How can no one know that Carol is alive, how can only that snobby vampire know about Carol?-

Your thoughts became more rapidly, your inner voice was slowly but surely becoming more powerful than the demons inside your head. You didn't care for the voices, or the poison in your veins.

Something needs to be done.

Your mind was telling you to let her in. Let her in your house, let her in your room. She was nearby. Of course she was. She hasn't consumed blood since the last time she saw you.

Of course she came in to take more.

' Let her in, let her in, let her in, let her in-'

But you won't. Won't let her have access to your house. You won't invite her, you won't let her have access to your house, to your mom, to you.

It doesn't matter if your body hurts like a bitch, it doesn't matter if the infernal voices won't shut up. She won't take your blood anymore. And it doesn't matter that she is currently looking really fucking sinister outside your window while tapping on the glass with her pointy nails.

"- [Y/N]~ I've missed you…" Again with the sweet and flirty acting. At least you now know that it is indeed her who is messing with your brain, because as soon as she said that the voices have become more subtle, more, smooth, and were now repeating how they missed you.

And just like that, you were feeling… Lighter, for them not be constantly nagging you and scolding you. But just as this comfortable change came, it went away.

"- [Y/N]! OPEN THIS WINDOW RIGHT NOW-" She screamed from the other side of the window, clearly losing her patience. And the voice once again got a hold of you.

Their screams, is almost deafening, is- It's painful, it's just-

It's just too strong for you.

"- See? It wasn't so bad, was it?" She said mockingly as she entered through the window. You didn't respond, you were just glad that the pain has gone away… For the most part.

"- Oh… This is a- Really interesting room decoration, or lack of thereof-" To you, it sounded like she was taunting you again. You imagine that someone that has been born noble has never seen a commoner's house interior except for her nightly hunts. Which were brief and quickly as she could since there was no point of dragging the inevitable.

But, honestly, no it wasn't necessarily taunting, but, oblivious curiosity. A cultural shock, if you will.

Still, no real response came from you. You just want this to get over with. You failed not only every single person in this village, but also yourself. You've let her in.

You're either going to die because of her draining your blood, or you're going to experience a worse fate than death.

Maybe something… Maybe something that Carol is experiencing.

No. No, no, you can't give up just yet, you need to know what happened to Carol, you need to know what happened to those that have died, you can't let her win-

"- You don't seem to be really bright, are you?" She said. You took some time to realize that she was talking to you this entire time. But you don't really care for her, you never did.

"- What do you want, demon?" You refuse to look at her. You refuse to be a "welcoming host" to such a prick.

"- Well, for starters, I want you to stop calling me that. I have a name, and it would be best for the both of us if you started calling me by it." She doesn't take her eyes off of you, you can feel it, oddly enough. She isn't being aggressive just yet, so maybe you could… Take information that you need while you still can.

As you didn't say anything, she continued speaking, this time wandering around your room and playing with your stuff.

"- The name is Abigail Barlow, and since I already know your name, we can cut the introductions short and just go directly to business since you're being so stuck-up about it." She said, while fidgeting with one of your books, fake reading it. Just so she can hide her face from you.

"- … Excuse me?!" You spoke out. If the book wasn't there, you would be able to see the biggest smirk you've ever seen. She knew you would get angry easy, you're just simple like that.

"- How- How can you even come into my house and act like you didn't cause a fucking massacre, like you weren't the cause of so many deaths?!!" How dare she? How dare she? Just simply- How dare she?!

"- Language, [Y/N], you're speaking with an immortal daughter of an immortal duch and duchess, I don't think you have much power in this scenario or in any other scenario of your life." Jesus Christ, Carol was right! You're such a foul-mouth!

"- I should- I should have stabbed you with that dumb piece of wood when I could have." Crying. It 's pathetic. You know this, but who cares? You're doomed anyway. You shouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but you can't contain the amount of anger that you have inside of you.

And of course she is enjoying this, of course she is laughing.

"- Just, get this over with-"

"- I came here to make a proposition." She interrupted you and your pitiful sobbing-

"- You see, I have been really kind towards you, [Y/N]. Normally, I would have come to drink your blood everyday, and then I would come to… "You know who"." She giggled at the last part. If you have enough strength in your body, you would have punched her face by now, regardless of the consequences.

"- After I drain all of your blood, you would presumably die, or, you could have the really small and special chance of becoming something like us." She said, either faking cheerfulness or saying with all her heart that the last option was better than just dying. You couldn't differentiate the two.

"- Like… "Us"?" You asked, terrified of what the answer may be. But you already know what she means, and her condensing look only reinforces that.

"- You, know Carol does miss you quite a lot. At first I thought that transforming you would be the best scenario for her, but the chance of it working is so little that it may not even be worth it." She said, sounding actually concerned. Sounding sad for Carol's uneventful life. Although she is the cause of it.

"- What do you mean?" You asked, feeling like a lot of weight is suddenly being put on top of your shoulders. Carol is alive! And- And she misses you?

"- Her brother didn't come back, you know." Oh, her little brother. He didn't…. But, does that mean-

"- She is really lonely without any family members, without any friends…" She has placed your book down, being extremely careful with her words, she needs to convince you.

"- So that's why I'm here, I came here so we can make an agreement." She said in a more serious tone than before. An apathetic tone. Before you could question her shifts in tones and how suspicious this all sounds, she finally said what this "agreement" is.

"- I'll make sure that no vampire hurts your mother, I won't bite anyone else anymore, and that you'll be able to see Carol once again." She said.

"- And the catch?"

"- You'll have to come with me, and let me drink from you whenever I want." Oh, of course that's her requirements. You know that you can't trust her, but- Maybe, maybe you can find a way to break the curse?

Maybe you can find a way to cure everyone, maybe you can stop this from spreading!

And… Your mother would be safe, for the time being.

"- And I just need to play along?" You asked looking up to see her face. That same face from your first encounter, a sadistic grin, an expression you have learned to be disgusted at.

"- Exactly~" She is way too happy with this situation. You guess it is probably because she has the upper hand… For now.

She is stretching her hand to you, as if she is Satan himself offering you a contract that will steal your soul. To which you agree with. As you take her hand, the dread of the situation starts to settle in when in less than a second she manages to push you on top of your bed once again.

The scene is way too familiar, the need to vomit is almost as strong as your determination to make her pay for what she did.

You didn't look in her eyes, but you took a glance at her face to see that she was completely insane. From a calm and playful persona, to an absolute bloodthirsty monster.

Even if you feel disgusted, even if you're absolutely mortified by how her personality does a complete 180, you won't give up.

Her odd caresses at your cheek aren't really helping your discomfort.

"- I really, really hate you." You managed to get it out of your mouth. Not that you were being controlled to not say it or that you were being obligated to keep your mouth shut in anyway. But for some reason, it still took a lot from you to put these words together.

"- I don't need you to say that you love me yet, unless you're begging me for my utmost devotion, I don't need to hear anything that comes from you." She boops your nose as she finishes her sentence. This creepy bitch just doesn't take a break, does she?

"- Burn in hell." You snapped back, causing her a little bit of a scare but also making her laugh at your reaction.

Without anymore delaying she sank her teeth in your exposed cleavage. It hurts way more than when she had bitten your neck, and is weirder than before if you consider how the voices ask you to submit, to let her in, to let her drink it. You tried pushing her off but you couldn't move your body properly.

It hurts a lot, and yet you can't find a way to scream for help. The buzzing is way too loud, and the lack of blood is starting to really worsen your state. You really hope this is just a nightmare, that you're having the craziest dream in your life.

That you'll wake up the next day and everyone will still be there.

She stopped, this time taking her fangs away in a more gentle demeanor. How considerate~

"- Your blood is really, really addicting you know? I haven't been able to feed from anyone else ever since I met you." There it is, that face of someone who just drunk a whole bottle of wine. Are your blood perhaps mixed with alcohol? It doesn't sound unreasonable, after all, your dead friend is alive and now you're the blood stock of a crazy bitch.

You weren't paying attention to her (again), and she decided to politely ask you to look at her, by pushing one of her sharp nail fingers inside your bites marks.

"- Oh, does it hurt? Are you crying because it hurts or are you just a crybaby?" It doesn't matter when, it doesn't matter how, she manages to easily get into your skin. Literally or not.

But you didn't answer, you didn't look at her. You just… Continued to endure the pain, to curse her inside your mind. To plan a revenge against all of this torture that she is putting you through. At least the voices have stopped.

Surprisingly, she didn't seem to have any smart and sassy response to your silence. Maybe it was the moonlight reflecting in your skin, maybe it was how your hair laid and spread across the bedsheet, and maybe even how your eyes were spilling tear after tear, but that determination in your expression has never gone away.

Yeah, she doesn't know what it was, but, something about you was just- Interesting. Now that she is thinking about it, Carol may have a good reason as to why she can't shut up about you. Argh, just reminding of Carol makes Abigail want to take her eyes out and eat them. Their agreement was that they would both share your blood… Not that Abigail was going to keep her promise though.

This moment, this specific moment between you and her wasn't something that should be shared with anyone else. I guess even to a vampire, this scenario seems, really intimate. And it really doesn't help that you're kinda attractive, in her opinion.

Your face when you turned around just to look at why she was taking so long to bite you again was kinda… Cute? Naive? Attractive? She doesn't know. I guess your blood truly is addicting, like a drug, cause she clearly is high out of her damn mind.

You were confused as to why she suddenly stopped and why she didn't bite you again- Not that you really wanted her to continue, but you assumed that if she didn't get off you, was because she was still thirsty- But you now realize that looking at her wasn't the best idea. Like I said, her expression was so out of character that you thought she was drunk.

That somewhat affectionate face was starting to creep you out every second that passed by, especially with how she laughed when she noticed your terror. You didn't think twice before trying to push her away, only to have your wrists taken and your arms stretched on top of your hand.

No amount of wriggling would take you out of this, would it? At least she didn't seem to care that you struggled, if she did, she could have considered that a form of you breaking your agreement.

' You'll let me take your blood whenever I want.' You remember her saying that, but you guess that the "unspoken rule" under that line was "no struggling". Honestly, you don't even want to know if your theory is correct or not, you just want this to end.

She comes a little closer to you, clearly having the best time of her life, as it was written all over her face. She is glad your horrified eyes are stuck in her own.

She thought about saying something, but decided to go against it.

Instead of telling you she'll be more gentle, how about she show you how gentle she can be? She doesn't need to drink your blood in such a rush, if she goes slowly it's pretty much a given that it won't be half as bad as how she normally does. And besides, she has the whole night to enjoy, why not make it last a little longer?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere oc #sheep's stuff #yandere vampire fem x fem reader #yandere vampire #yandere vampire x reader #yandere vampire fanfiction #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc fanfiction #yandere monster x reader #yandere monster #yandere sadistic #sadistic yandere

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jordluna · 4 years ago

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Problems With the Government (Natasha x daughter!reader)

Summary: Reader is about 15 and gets hurt during a press conference with Natasha. Also the press conference is set outside Capital hill.

TW: Injuries

You've always known that your mom was the Black Widow. She's trained you ever since you took your first steps, so you were pretty skilled in combat and always had a dream of joining Shield when you were old enough. You even had your own missions that you would accomplish.

Even though you were almost as good as Natasha in fighting, you still got your fair amount of injuries. None of them this bad though.

*****

You watch as an angry crowd of reporters and protestors are gathering outside your small apartment screaming and cursing from underneath your balcony. Natasha grabs her purse while whispering curse words under her breathe.

"Mom, what's going on?" you ask worriedly but she just sighs and turns on the TV. You watch as the news is talking about how Shield's secrets and files got leaked somehow. You gasp visibly shocked as to how this could have happened. Sure you knew how to hack into Shield's database but you would never do it.

"Who did this?" As soon as you say that you then see a photo of her on the screen, with new reporters claiming that it was her.

"I had to y/n. Shield was compromised, I'm sorry." She says as you stare at the list of all the killing's she was involved with along with you, because of your missions.

"I get why you did it. It's just going to be hard adjusting I guess since everyone knows who we really are." She nods while rubbing your back as you look out the window and see camera's now flashing.

Natasha takes out her phone from a text from Fury saying that you both have a press conference to attend to.

As you two exit the apartment your mother holds a tight grip on your arm as reporters and angry people scream and rally around you both as you try to enter your car. You both try your best to ignore the hateful accusations that you and your mother are cold blooded murders. How could people be this ignorant and not see that you guys were trying to protect the world?

You enter the car as people snap photos of you guys. Your mother drives away quickly as you watch the riot egg your car.

"That was interesting." You say trying to make light of the situation. Natasha smiles slightly but then you are interrupted by thousands of text messages from your now ex friends.

Your face falls as you read the hurtful messages, not failing to be unnoticed by Natasha.

"What's wrong y/n?" Natasha asks as you approach capital hill. You get out of the car and show her the texts. Her heart breaks as she reads what your so called friends are saying to you.

"I guess people have been watching the news." You say angrily. You can tell she's a little tense when walking up to the podium to speak so you give her hand a reassuring squeeze and stand behind her. As you look to your left you see Clint and Fury have joined too.

"I know you all know who I am, and I'm truly sorry you had to find out." She starts to say as the crowd dies down and more camera flashes appear. "I have done a lot of terrible things in my life, for this country and against it."

"I would like to apologies,"

Before she could a loud gunshots erupt the air. Clint grabs your mother as you and her began to take out your guns as you hear people screaming. Before you spot the shooter you hear one last gun shot, then the police take them down.

You immediately rush to your mother who looks relieved to see you're okay but then her eyes travel to your stomach and her fear sets in. Since the adrenaline is wearing off you no start to feel the pain in your stomach and look down and see the oozing blood coming out. You put pressure onto the wound but your vision becomes blurry from the loss of blood and you tumble into Natasha's arms.

"You're okay baby. Mama's here, I'm right here." Natasha says as tears form in her eyes. Clint was able to get the paramedics attention but not before your vision went black.

*****

The next thing you knew you woke up in a hospital bed with Natasha holding your hand crying.

"M-mom what's wrong?" Your voice cracks a little bit due to being dry. Her head shoots up realizing that you're awake. She quickly dries her tears up and passes you a glass of water.

"I'm so glad you're awake y/n." Her smile immediately falls as you wince feeling the immense pain in your gut. "Sweetie tell me what hurts."

"My stomach hurts pretty bad." She gets a nurse who administers some pain medication in your I.V.

"I'm so sorry I got you caught up in all of this y/n. If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have been shot and in the hospital. I didn't protect you."

"Mom, it's not your fault. No matter how hard you try to protect me, there are sometimes you can't and that's okay." A tear rolls down her cheek.

"I love you y/n." She says softly as your eyes start to close from the pain medication.

"I love you too mama."

#Avengers family Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader natasha Romanoff Black Widow x daughter

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gloves94 · 4 years ago

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Kingdom of the Sun [Fire Lord Zuko] 10

Chapter Warnings: Death Story Rating: M

Pairings: Zuko/OC Kingdom of the Sun MASTERLIST

Last Airbender MASTERLIST My MASTERLIST

The formal Vice-Royal Governor would be expecting them to return to the colonies or to the new Republic of Nations. That was expected. News of the tragic collapse of the temple in the Fire Nation’s capital would soon reach the rest of the world and news of the death of Fire Lord Zuko and former Lord Tsai of Yu Dao would not, since the Anti-Revolutionary Movement’s plan had failed.

“I’m going to get some things ready…” Tsai stood up with her back erect. Eyes clouded deep in thought, too lost to focus or think of anything else as she concocted a plan on her head.

“Promise well have tea before we leave?” She reached for Uncle Iroh’s shoulder giving it a squeeze before leaving without saying another word she exited the room.

Her mother, Zuko’s and other family members followed suit leaving only Zuko and his uncle alone in the room.

“Uncle, I need your opinion on something,” Zuko broke the silence. He hummed he seemed deep in thought his eyes focused on the carpet’s elaborate pattern. “Do you need some more advice nephew?” Iroh chuckled.

Zuko felt his ears burning with embarrassment, “No!” He said much to brashly. That was a topic he did not want to revisit with his uncle. “I know that we are finally formerly engaged, but I want Tsai’s mother approval. Which is why I need to get a ring. Where can I get one?” He asked.

Xxx

It was dawn when the air ship was prepared. It was decided that Zuko, Tsai and her family would be returning to capture Azah and bring down the Anti-Revolutionary movement. Ty Lee and suki would be coming as well.

Tsai couldn’t figure out why but Zuko looked absolutely exhausted when he boarded the ship. He really looked like he had been up all night. She arched an eyebrow in concern when she looked at him.

“Hey, are you okay?” She asked reaching for him caringly reaching to brush a hair out of his forehead.

“Just fine,” he said reaching for her hand and planting a kiss on her knuckles. There seemed to be an odd scent that accompanied him. What was that ash and soothe? He smelt the same way collapsing buildings on fire did, which was no unusual, but odd.

“Let’s go get some rest,” he said patting her hand. “We’ve got a long journey ahead.”

Already exhausted Zuko passed out on a bed. Tsai instead sat on a nearby desk, nose buried in a scroll as she went over the plan.

Xxx

Everything was ready the next day.

Mecha starred ahead from the window as they approached the nation’s shore. His eyes traced the outline of the metropolis that had rapidly developed. He looked at the towering chimneys each with growing clouds of smoke as they lived during the peak of the c0lonial industrial revolution.

“You seem nervous,” a cool voice snapped him out of his train of thought. Snapping out of his thoughts Mecha turned to face his sister who was leaning against the air ship’s glass window looking at him with concern. “Trust me, I’ve been planning this. Everything’s going to work out,” she reassured him optimistically.

Regardless of her reassurance the scarred man remained sullen, a familiar darkness clouding his eyes.

“You don’t know what he’s like,” he said softly.

She looked at him attentively almost confused. She could still remember how vile her father had been the last time they had been in the same room together. It had been the day she had been captured as a spy during the war. She had been tortured and brought before Fire Lord Ozai for him to do as he wished with her. “I have no daughter,” where the last words he had said to her when he had renounced her as his. She could still remember the void emotion on his face, the dark look on his familiar eyes which disowned her. Which chose his right to govern over his own family.

“What exactly happened the last time you saw him?” She asked suddenly being well aware that they had not discussed just what had happened the day that her older brother confronted their father during the the day of Sozin’s Comet.

Mecha could still vividly remember that day. He closed his eyes for a moment and breath in.

“I went inside of the throne room,” he began, green eyes looking sullen.” I was ready to strike him down. Of course, he was inside waiting for me. He spat insults at me, told me I was no longer his son. Said that what I had done to the family was a disgrace. Said that I was renouncing to my birth right.” His face hardened. “He threatened to blow up the palace if I attacked, so-“ He licked his lips swallowing hard. The memory still fresh in his mind, somehow wounding him deeper than the lightning scars that carved his tree trunk torso. “I let him go. It was too risky…”

His sister lowered her head, her expression unreadable as a cascade of red bangs hid her judging gaze. “Son of a bitch walked right past me as he left.” He whispered faintly, a strained edge on his voice. Mecha was ready for his sister to lash out at him. All of this was his fault. Maybe if he had been braver, more brash in his actions, paraphs then he would’ve blown up the palace, taken down his father and this whole chain of unfortunate events could’ve been avoided.

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, “You did the right thing.” She consoled. “More lives would’ve been lost if the palace blew up…” She commented absent mindedly.

“Don’t worry we’ll get him this time. I know it,” Tsai said with a painfully confident smile. “You’ll get him this time,” he with withdrawingly. “You know how he is. He was successful once with the threat of a bomb. He’ll do it again and we all know you’re the only one that can survive that,” he reasoned.

She swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat. So it was all up to her then…

It was then that the airships captain announced that they had arrived. It was a little past noon now. “I’m going to get Zuko, get mom ready,” she said whipping around having much to think about. Blow up the palace… Would that bastard really dare? Considering he had had one of his subordinates blow up a temple in the Fire Nation she sincerely wouldn’t put it past him. “Zuko we’ve-,” She was so caught up in a storm of thoughts that she didn’t knock on the door and instead walked in without a warning.

The Fire Lord’s back was to her as she entered, he seemed to be fumbling with something on his hands. That something bounced in his hands before he caught it, making him sit up stiff and alarmed. He made a strange noise. Tsai looked at him confused. “What are you doing?” She had to ask.

“Nothing,” he lied, looking paranoid. There was a sly glint on her eye as she swaggered towards him. She climbed on the bed from behind him and her arms snaked around his neck from behind. “What? You’re really not going to tell me?” She whispered in his ear as she pressed up her body against his back. He let out a throaty chuckle and reached for her hand, turning around wrapping her arms around her. She smiled as a very talented pair of lips found her own.

He pushed her back on the mattress the two still in lip lock, her eyes were closed so she was surprised at the sensation of a warm metal sliding up her finger. She brought her hand up to her face for inspection and saw what looked like a carved crystal that went around her finger. It should’ve been a metal ring, but it was a fully circumferential amber colored diamond.

“A proper engagement requires a proper ring. Don’t you think?”

Her eyes were wide as she looked at the crystalized ring.

“Zuko, this isn’t a ring, this is a diamond.” She looked at him in awe. “Well,” He said holding her fingers in his. “It is a diamond ring.”

There was simple craftsmanship to it, yet it was one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry she had ever seen. It caught and reflected the little light in the room beautifully in amber tones. It wasn’t light weighted either. It was polished smooth on the sides and had a rocky texture on top where the edges of the diamond were sharp. “I stayed up all night making it. Even talked to your mother, got her symbolic blessing.”

She was now in awe. “You- made this?”

“With a little help from a blacksmith, yes,” he said proudly. “It’s a volcanic diamond from the mines of the Capital.”

He looked at her wide-eyed expression. “Do you like it?”

How could she not? “Of course, I do! You made this!” She kissed him again. “You didn’t have to do this, really.” “I wanted to,” he smiled at her sweetly. She held on to his face for a minute stroking his scarred cheek tenderly. “Thank you,” she whispered to him. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“I don’t see why we can’t,” he responded with the same amount of tenderness dripping from his honey voice.

There was a pause in her stroking. “Not yet,” she stood up. So, overwhelmed with joy she had almost forgotten why she had even walked in the room in the first place. “Come on,” She grabbed his hand in hers and dragged him out of bed. “We’re about to land. Let’s go over the plan.”

Xxx

The plan was simple. The six gathered in the Main Cabin of the airship going over the days plan. There was no time to waste.

“Mecha, I need you to use your local contacts and get Aang the rest of the gang from the palace. Lure them out do it sneakily,” she licked her lips and looked at her mother. Sanju was a bit taken aback, she always knew that her son’s destiny would’ve been the one of a ruler and commander but her daughter? She looked at her oddly, yet with a sense of pride. She truly looked like a commander with wise eyes scanning and pointing over a map with wise instruction. “Mom, you have to wait for Mecha. Go to the newspaper. Send news that we have arrived from the Fire Nation. I want absolutely everybody to know. Once you’re done, return to the airship.”

“That’s all?” Her brother shot back disappointed with his assignment. “Of course not,” she scoffed ridiculously, shooting him an irked look for having interrupted before she proceeded to explain her and Zuko’s elaborate roles in the plan. “You’ve got the most important part.”

“After news of our arrival reach father and his goons, he’ll be on guard. He’ll be waiting for us in the palace, and here’s what you and the rest of the gang will have to do. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had set up hidden bombs all over the city. His goons will be behind it all. That’s why I need you, mom and the others to find and disarm them. Toph will be able to see underground and inside walls. Rely on your sense of smell to smell the dynamite and powder.”

That made more sense.

“Brilliant,” his brother nodded.

“Suki and Ty Lee,” She looked at the Kyoshi Warriors. “Go with them, we will need people to evacuate the city. Bring them to the docks incase things go awry.”

“And by awry you mean…” Suki spoke slowly.

“Kaboom!” Ty Lee said making a giant explosion gesture with her hands.

Right. They all nodded in agreemend.

“We’ll go to the palace and capture your father. We’ll bring him back to the Fire Nation as a prisoner of war,” Zuko said.

“You really shouldn’t come. If something blows up…” She warned, hard expression on her face. She’d be able to manage just fine, but if Zuko’s guard was down, the consequences would be fatal.

“Nonsense,” he said with an incredulous look. “I’m with you, until the end.”

She smiled at him and nodded.

“Let’s put an end to this once and for all,” Mecha said determinedly. His eyes narrowed in determination as he trusted a fist forward.

“You two better come back,” Sanju said with both of her eyes closed, arms crossed over her chest. Her tone was warning as she focused on the couple before her. “We’ve got a wedding to plan,” she said with the edge of a smile present on her lips.

Xxx

It was almost dusk when Zuko and Tsai stood hidden behind some crates that were near the entrance of the palace.

“Alright, I’m ready,” she said lowering her hood from her head and getting ready to simply waltz up the palace. Surely the guards would just let her in.

“Wait-“ Zuko says pulling her back. Surely it wouldn’t be that simple. “Do you hear that?”

She had been so focused on the plan that she did not hear the muffled groaning or the faint scratching noises that were edited from the inside of the crates they were hiding behind.

“What the-“ she stepped back behind him when her shed one of his dual blades from his back. He lodged the blade on the side of the crate and used to crack the wooden crate open. From the inside came spilling out two familiar men. Both men had their hands bound behind their back and their mouths gagged with rags rendering them mute.

“It’s the palace’s front guards!” She exclaimed as a flicker of recognition and familiarity made her remember the men.

She wasted no time in ungagging them.

“What happened?” She demanded.

“It’s the Governor,” one coughed up taking a breath of relief. “Ex-Governor,” Zuko corrected, kneeling down to the guard’s eye level as well.

“He kept an eye out for your ship. Had his goons take over. He’s got the palace crawling with bombs and is holding the staff hostage.”

Zuko and Tsai looked at each other.

“And you thought this was going to be easy,” he huffed with the slightest of smirks. “I should’ve known,” she sighed. “Nothing ever is.”

Zuko undid their bindings with a swipe from his blade setting them both lose. “Go to your families,” Tsai dismissed. An intense look on her face as she glared at the wall of the palace with extreme distaste.

The two guards scrammed out of the crates vanishing into the nearby market. Zuko stretched his arms and bent his neck to the side. “Let’s do this.”

He looked at the palace’s tall wall, it would take skill for him to get in, but it was impenetrable. Tsai focused on the massive entrance. She knew her strengths and weaknesses, let’s just say agility wasn’t one of them.

Tsai approached the entrance of the palace. She raised her hands with her hidden blades unsheathed in an inoffensive matter. “I’m here to see my father,” She stated loudly. “Let me in.” The guards scrambled. Opening the gates, immediately seizing her from behind. Knives pointed at her throat as a dozen of them pulled her in, making her arch her back as she staggered in. She set a foot inside and the door shut behind her.

“Send order to the Governor!” One of them said. “We’re taking her to the dungeons,” the same one said out loud. The ordered goon disguised as a guard nodded his head and immediately sprinted on his way to the palace’s throne room. Only for the breath to be choked out of him when he ran into a branch like arm that whipped his head back. The goon coughed on the ground as he gasped for breath and looked up in horror to see the Fire Lord standing before him. His dual swords whipped out and both of them glowing with fire bending flames.

“Going somewhere?” Zuko taunted maliciously.

The goon could’ve wet himself.

“Now!” Tsai shouted. She ducked as she did Zuko quickly rushed to the dozens of guards swinging his swords. One attacked her and she kicked him with the blade that stick out from the front of her shoe. Zuko’s blades swung over her as they crossed paths. She wasted no time in moving her bind wrist to the blade on her foot freeing her lips.

Now with her hidden blades unsheathed, both stood back to back looking at the dozen or so enemies that surrounded him.

“Aw,” Tsai said mockingly. “They don’t even stand a chance.”

She moved forward and struck a fatal, yet not deathly blow to a man. One that was about to attack Zuko had some acid pepper venom thrown at his eyes which painfully blinded him. Zuko fought without mercy, knocking heads together, kicking soldiers against the walls brashly, cracking some ribs and breaking some noses in a more aggressive fighting style.

He turned when he heard his fiancée cry out in pain. Turning he saw her barely dodge a blade that sliced a cut in her sleeve.

His eyes immediately narrowed into scowling slits. Zuko turned around and actually killed the man stabbing him in the torso.

She looked at him in shock, eyes going wide as she held her arm.

“Y-You killed him,” She said aghast.

“Are you okay?” Zuko turned concerned with complete disregard for the man who was lying on the floor bleeding out.

It was only a scratch. He had been out of line.

“It’s only a scratch!” She cried out her voice in a higher pitch as she dropped to her knees before the man who had wounded her.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asked pulling her up by her uninjured arm. “I’m trying to save him!” She cried out struggling to touch the injured man on the floor. “What? No!” He said pulling her up with enough force she knew would bruise her arm. She looked at him horrified. “He’s only going to try and kill you!” He said alarmed.

“Enough innocent blood has been shed!” She cried out. “I’m so sick of it, so sick of people dying. Good or bad or in whatever grayscale of morality that they might fall.”

Zuko lowered his blade and moved the man’s arm to reveal a small knife he was holding tightly clenched to his hand. “See?” He said at the hidden weapon the man would’ve used to back stab her.

“Tsai,” he said her name, a gentle touch lingering on her face. “We’re in the end game here. None of these men will hesitate to kill you. Your father won’t hesitate to kill you. It’s kill or be killed,” he licked his lips, eyes flooding with concern. “If there is anything, I regret is…” He choked on his words. “Pardoning my father’s life. In the end, despite being imprisoned his existence was fuel for only more death, torment and misery.”

She processed his words.

“But back in the airship you said-“ She remembered what he had said. He had stated that they would bring back her father as a prisoner of war back to the Fire Nation.

“I know what I said,” he said sternly, brow furrowing at his word. “But you have to understand Tsai. The man that’s waiting for you inside of the throne’s chamber,” he stretched out an arm to point in the direction of the throne room. “He’s not the same man who raised you. He’s a coward, hiding behind terrorism and threats. He’s not your father!”

She looked at him with disbelief.

“You have to kill him my love,” he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead which was damp with cold sweat.

“If you don’t, he will.” He continued.

She remained silent. Eyes unblinking in his embrace at the realization of what she would have to do. It was one thing to talk about it, but to actually do it… Her hands trembled at the image of her blade piercing her father’s heart. She visibly flinched and he tightened his grip around her, resting his head on top of hers.

“If you can’t, I-“ He was interrupted. “No,” She said dryly. “He’s my father,” her lips drew out into a thin line. “Maybe, just maybe there’s another way…” She parted from his embrace. He brushed the red hair out her face and pushed it behind her shoulders.

Her lost eyes looked at where his arm had been pointing only a moment ago.

“Find the staff and guards that are being held hostage. It’s time I face my father.”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips and nodded. “Come back to me safe,” he said his fingers burying on her shoulders. She smiled at him faintly. “And don’t do anything stupid!” He said a bit more harshly. Concern dripping from his words. “No promises,” she laughed weakly and kissed him back before the two parted their separate ways.

Tsai now stood before the throne room. Hands lightly shaking. Behind it was a familiar man, now a stranger, waiting for her.

With a burst of courage, she kicked the door open.

There he was.

Azah sat on the throne with one leg crossed over the other. A border expression on his deep eyes as he looked down on his daughter. His eyes scanned her body focusing on every detail which was foreign to him. Every new scar, the longer hair, the leather pouch where she kept her herbs and antidotes, the massive diamond wrapped around her finger.

She held her tongue a painful expression on her face as she wondered he had to say to her after all these years.

The man let out a low whistle, eyes fixed on the amber diamond on her left hand. “You’ve done well for yourself Tsai,” he said bitterly.

“No thanks to you,” she retorted with a humorless smirk. The edge of her lip curling with displeasure.

“I’m surprised,” he said uncrossing his leg.

Despite being only a couple of steps away from her, she felt like he might’ve as well have been worlds away. Behind him stacks of powder, dynamite and other explosives decorated the walls of the palace and with wires that seemed like vines crept outside of the walls to the skull of the palace.

“You always had potential, but ambition,” he clicked his tongue. “That you have always lacked. “If you equate ambition with anarchy, I’m afraid you’ve gone very wrong father-“ She flinched when he slammed his palm on the thrones arm making a loud thud. “Do not call me that!” He snarled, face shifting to a scowl. “You are no daughter of mine!” he repeated the stinging words he had once said to her. “No daughter of mine would’ve renounce the title of Lord, would’ve renounced ownership of an independent nation!”

She looked at him with hard eyes. His nostrils flaring and face burning red with anger.

“I see,” she broke the silence after a moment. “You won’t change your opinion. You won’t change your ways,” with a trembling hand she stepped forward assuming an offensive position with a blade pointed in his direction. “I will only ask you this once. Surrender. Surrender your goons and bring down the Anti-Revolutionary Movement. If you ask me, it’s kind of pointless at this point… Now that the Republic of Nations has been established. There is no purpose to your group anymore.”

She waivered when a cruel, loud laughter echoed the room. Azah was lauching at her cruelly, mockingly, he was laughing as if she had just said the funniest joke he had ever heard.

“Please, don’t humor me,” he spat. “You don’t have it in you to kill me.”

She glowered at him stepping forward.

“Just like your brother,” he said sounding almost pleased.

Not a moment later she stood before him ready to strike him down. It had to be fast. She shut her eyes tightly and thrusted her blade forward.

“Ah, ah, ah…” He cooed cruelly.

Heart pounding in her ears, blood pulsing through her body she brought the blade to a halt inches before his face. She couldn’t do it. Not like this. It was filthy, it was vile.

In between his fingers the man held his weapon. In his hand he held a single red matchstick. “Don’t forget – one wrong move and boom,” he made a poping sound with lips. She lowered her gaze and saw that the marble floor was dusted with black sand. Wait- it wasn’t sand, it was dynamite powder. The entire floor! Azah really wanted to cover his ground this time. He wasn’t bluffing. “Hope you’re ready to be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people. The absolute destruction of your creation, the fall of the Republic of Nations.”

“And then what?” She challenged arching an eyebrow. He was bluffing. There was no way he would actually dare, do it and blow himself up with the city.

“Somebody better will build something from the ashes.” “You sound like Ozai. That was a nice little surprise by the way. Using your spy to blow up the temple. Squash all of us like cockroaches,” she spat. “Then again, you always looked up to the Fire Lord.”

“He would’ve appreciated the gesture. My dear friend’s death is truly a pity,” their eyes met a smirk stretching across his features.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged looking at the matchstick in his hand.

“Try me.”

The tension in the air made it hard to breath. She looked in between his unfaltering expression and the matchstick, eyes dancing between the two as she inched closer, her blade burying into the flesh of his neck drawing out a single string of blood, deeper and deeper. Her eyes watered at the pain of taking a life, her father’s life. The grin on his wicked expression grew wider the more she pressed, the more aggressively her hand shook. Despite it all he didn’t flinch; the matchstick did not drop.

She lowered her hand in defeat. Tsai was ready to speak when she felt her throat being constricted. Her head hit the marble floor when she was pushed back, her father’s hands gripping at her throat tightly as he asphyxiated her with all of his strength.

“I will destroy you, this city and everything that it stands for! And from it I will rebuild my empire! The empire I was always destined for!” He laughed cruelly, his knees digging into her gut. One of her hands attempted to strike him. The other clawed at the ground desperately. Zuko had been right. It was kill or be killed. There was no room for mercy in these types of circumstances. Her face had shifted from red, to violet, blood vessels in her eyes popping as she gasped for air.

Azah could feel his own daughter’s body becoming limp under his grip. It wasn’t until he heard a faint flickering sound that his slightly grip loosened. His eyes narrowed on his daughter’s hand where he saw she was holding the match tightly, roughly flicking at it with her thumb hoping the friction would ignite it.

The edge of her lip twisted up in satisfaction as the blood drained from his shaken expression.

“NO!” Was the last thing she heard him say hands reaching for the match before flames licked the floor and a massive explosion blinded them both.

You see that was the thing about fire, play with it and you get burnt.

Xxx

Zuko had just reached the docks he escorted the hostages and most civilians living near the palace quickly ushering them into boats and ships.

There he was regrouping with Aang, Katara, Toph, Sokka and Tsai’s family. They had accomplished their mission successfully and had disarmed every single bomb in the city. All within the exception of the palace. The Fire Lord was currently focused on a particular child that was crying seeking out for its mother when the ground shook. Zuko quickly regained his startled balance and turned back fearfully. The sky had turned ashen. Dusk was almost upon them. The night became ignited with a massive orange flame where Yu Dao’s royal palace once stood.

A heart wrenching sob escaped Tsai’s mother as she impulsively lunged towards the building. Her son held her back, turning away from the explosion. Debris, ash and fire rained from the sky.

Tsai.

Zuko felt his blood run cold. In that moment he forgot where he stood, where he was. He questioned if his feet were grounded to the Earth.

The others noted the disturbed expression that crossed his scarred face. He went deaf to the cries of Aang, Katara and others as he impulsively ran forward. No one being able to hold him back.

Zuko ran towards the palace as fast as he could. Heart pounding in his rib cage, being unable to be contained. Fear pulsing through his mind, through his body. He coughed finding it unable to breath with the thick smog.

“Tsai!” He shouted, his voice cracking with heart ache.

There was no answer.

No, no, no…

He walked past the ignited remains of what had once been the regal palace coughing, gasping, screaming her name until he lost his bleeding voice. He was alone. His eyes watered with the fumes making it hard to see.

When a strong gust of wind cleared the space, silencing the fire, and bringing it to a dim.

He turned to see his friends standing beside him. Aang placed a hand on his shoulder, a determined expression on his face.

Katara on the other side, her water ready to heal water wounds had to be quickly taken care of.

“Don’t worry Zuko, we’ll find her.” Katara reassured him with a confident smile.

How was it that they all had so much faith in her, but he didn’t? It wasn’t the fire that he was concerned about it. It was the collapsing debris. Last time her mother had been there to save them, but this time- She had been alone.

“The throne room should be this way,” Sokka pointed out.

“I’ll see if I can sense anything,” Toph stated focusing on her unique vision which allowed her to see with her feet. “There is someone in the throne room!”

They all rushed to the throne room.

“There!” Toph said pointing at a large mountain of rumble and collapsed ceiling that had collapsed. Aang blew the flames and smog away. Katara stood by the sides ready. Toph lifted the majority of heavy rocks out of the way. Zuko had collapsed on his knees and was tossing away all rubble and everything that he could as he sought out his love with a burdening desperation. Sokka at his side, heart on his throat.

It was then that the Southern Water Tribe man choked on a startled breath.

Toph had been right. There had been someone underneath all the rubble.

Sokka looked at Zuko with hard eyes. With one brash motion he pulled whatever was stuck beneath the rocks. There was no way Tsai had survived this landslide. Zuko felt his world end when Sokka pulled out her bouse. There was no mistake it was her; it was the trademark ochre color she always wore.

“Zuko…” Katara dropped to her knees besides her friend’s side. Heart breaking at the look on his face.

They were finally going to be together. They were finally happy. They were finally going to be one. Their souls brought together in union.

“I-I’m sorry,” Aang whispered. “I really… I really thought…” Aang trailed off, turning away.

Misery and ash rained over the group as they mourned their friend. Toph had a solemn look on her face. Then she felt something stirring. Wait.

Weak coughing could be heard.

Toph saw there was another person still standing.

“Very, very touching,” Tsai stood limply leaning against what used to be a wall. Her voice was hoarse, and she looked beyond beaten. Eyes red stained with sooth and blended with tears. “I’m touched really,” she laughed weakly before succumbing to a violent cough. It seemed she had lost her shirt in the explosion and stood bruised wearing a tank top which was stained with blood and ash.

Zuko called her name as he rushed towards her. All of their friends did two surrounding the two in a group hug.

“You’re alive!” Sokka cried out with glee.

“I knew it!” Aang laughed heartily.

“I managed to make a run for the window. It all happened so fast…” She managed to speak her voice still painfully hoarse. Her heard throbbing with pain. Katara then began to aid her healing the external wounds that she could.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Zuko whispered against her skin as he held her tightly against his body.

“You were right,” she admitted sadly. He looked at her confused and she pushed her hair back revealing the two red handprints that would form the bruises on her neck. “Kill or be killed…” She whispered sadly. The Fire Lord felt his stomach churning with boiling rage. That bastard. That monster… The things he would do to the creature if he was still wailing in his miserable life. “He gave me no choice, so…” She gasped for breath clearing her strained throat. “So I blew up the palace.” She admitted.

“Wait,” Katara looked at her shocked. “You blew up the palace?!”

“That’s wicked cool!” Toph exclaimed excitedly.

“I had to,” Tsai huffed. “He didn’t give me a choice…” She said wrapping an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. He wrapped an arm around her body hoisting her up, leaning her weight on him. “Besides, it stood as a symbol of imperialism. It had to go,” she smiled weakly.

“But-“ Sokka exclaimed his hands raised up in outrage. “All the beautiful things inside it! All the gems, priceless relics!” He cried out dramatically.

“All replaceable,” she smiled at the group.

“We better get going, let your family know you’re okay,” Katara said signaling at the dock. “Yeah,” Sokka wiped his nose and pointed back at the docks with his thumb. “Your poor mother actually believes your dead this time.”

“Go figure.”

The group made way to the docks.

“I can’t believe I actually let you go alone,” Zuko grumbled angry at himself. Still internally fuming not fully recuperated from the horrible shock he had just suffered. “What are you so upset about?” She looked at him with a teasing grin, overall happy to have survived the impact. “Everything worked out.”

“You could’ve died!” He scolded. “So reckless,” he added unhappily under his breath. “Yeah, but I didn’t.” She said before once again coughing aggressively. She figured it was best to give her vocal cords a rest just for now. “I’m happy I didn’t,” she whispered only to him and kissed his face with her busted lips.

He smiled and hoisted her up in his arms. She laughed weakly and relaxed under his touch.

“Come on guys, we’ve got a wedding to plan now,” Katara said optimistically. Trying to lighted up the group’s mood.

Tsai raised her hand an exited grin on her face as she bragged her diamond ring to the group. “Hey!” She called out excitedly. “Make that two!”

Xxxxxxxxxxx

It had been months since the Anti-Revolutionary Movement had been brought down to ashes and since the New Ozai Society had been squashed. Both in the literal sense.

Tsai had been right in her comment about destroying the palace. If allowed to stand it would’ve represented a symbol of the colonization and oppression of the colonies for years to come. It was best this way.

And then it came.

The wedding day.

“Are you nervous?”

“No.” The groom let out a nervous laugh. “Why would I be nervous?”

His friend looked at the pacing groom with unease. The man was fidgeting under his ceremonial robes, looking as if he was walking straight to his death.

“You’ve faced worst things and you get like this, right now? I thought you wanted to marry this woman.”

“I do,” he answered weakly. “I do!” He said reassuring his friend. “I’m not getting cold feet or anything, it’s just-“ his body trembled slightly. The groom was more excited than nervous, he couldn’t believe the day had finally come. A goofy smile was plastered on his happy face.

BANG!

Both Aang and Zuko turned towards the door of the ceremonial room in which they were in when they heard that loud knock. They both swore they saw it physically shake, as an aggressive banging almost tore the door down.

“Hold her!” Someone shouted from the other side. It sounded like Sokka. “Stop!” That sounded like Katara.

It sounded like Toph was laughing outside.

“Toph do something!”

It was then that the door burst open revealing the bride.

Tsai stood underneath the doors arched wearing her ceremonial wedding robes. They were white with long, thick sleeves that hid her hands. Cuffs of scarlet and amber decorated the edges and many layers of clothing. The fabric itself delicately embroidered with symbols of the Fire Nation and at her own request the sun. Make up done to masterful perfection. Hair braided up in an elaborate style which displayed her Fire Nation golden headpiece crown. Traditional Fire Nation pins crafted with gold and precious gemstones adorned her red hair.

She looked at the groom. Zuko looked so handsome in his own robes. They were similar to his regal Fire Lord ones with the exception of the embroider. These were much more delicately embroidered. The trim threatened with a golden thread that painted pictures of dragons, fire, patterns and at his own request the sun.

“No!” Katara cried out. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding ceremony!” She was looking just as regal as her friends wearing a beautiful light green dress, pink flowers adorned her hair.

The Fire Lord was rendered speechless at the sight of his blushing bride.

She really took his breath away.

She ran to him holding on to his sleeves.

“I just had a terrible thought!” She spoke frantically, as the nerves consumed her.

“Do you remember when we were by the Nunnery Abbey? When we saw that fortune teller?” She said trying very hard not to pull at her hair anxiously. “What do you think she meant by what she said? What had she said again? Care to know the – I can’t remember if she had said gender or bender of your firstborn. What did she mean by the answer might surprise you-?” She rambled apprehensively.

Zuko hadn’t heard a word that had come out of her rose-colored lips.

He remained mute, much too stunned to speak. The part of his brain that authorized language surrendered before the woman.

Tsai was upset by his lack of speech. “Zuko,” She prodded. “Say something!” She insisted, both eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a wide smile, a hand rising to her face to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

“I’m being serious!” She said paranoid. Swatting away the compliment. “What if we have an Earth bending child? Or what if-“

He held her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Then we’ll have an Earth bending child ruling our Fire Nation. It doesn’t matter, really-“

“Yeah,” Toph barked in agreeance. “And she’ll have the best damn teacher,” She grinned broadly.

“She?” Aang said confused. “I have a feeling,” The Earth-bender shrugged with ease.

It seemed like the only thing that could snap Tsai out of her lost train of though was the sensational harp music that played a familiar tune, what was it they had called it again? Avatar’s Love from the other side of the Major Temple where the Fire Sages would soon be initiating the ceremony.

“Come on, we’re starting!” Sokka clapped his hands. “Chop! Chop!” He said ushering the bride out.

“Uncle Iroh is waiting for you!” Toph added hands on her waist from her flowing green and gold dress.

“This is terrible luck,” Katara said dramatically face palming. The group, one by one, exited the room slowly moving to the temple.

It seemed to finally dawn on her. Oh. She was about to get married in a minute. The nerves were still pricking at her, cold feet dancing underneath her robes. She felt Zuko squeeze her hands in reassurance.

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do, don’t we?” He said leaning forward to her. Close enough that his nose was touching hers, foreheads pressed together.

“Right,” she agreed with a weak huff. Suddenly feeling giddy, vulnerable and at the same time eager to stand in the altar and wait for him.

This reminded the Fire Lord of something. A deep memory that he sometimes revisited. However one he had never shared with her or with anyone.

“Do you remember when we first met?” He spoke, his voice, soft, quiet, loud enough only for her to hear.

She nodded her head slightly, eyes peering barely open to look into his golden ones. Where was this coming from?

How could she forget. It had been during her grandfather’s funeral. An event in which sixteen-year-old Zuko had been ruder and more improper than anybody she had ever met.

“Yes, you were a total Royal prick,” she laughed weakly, now almost fondly at the memory.

“Do you remember what you first said to me?”

She hummed as she thought of the memory. She remembered standing before him and respectfully bowing. It had been years since the occasion. She hadn’t thought about it since. All that she could remember was that the two were standing face to face in her family’s old garden.

She couldn’t remember the exact words.

“I don’t remember,” she shrugged slightly. “I guess I probably just nodded and introduced myself. Probably addressed you as ‘Your Highness’” She laughed lightly. Who would’ve thought? She was now marrying that same Royal prick. What had Mecha called him? Prince Ponytail? Ha!

“So that’s what you said…” He mused to himself with a growing smile.

She stepped back and looked at him perplexed.

Zuko let out a throaty laugh, it was low, almost like a rumble. “I’ll never forget that moment.”

He was looking at her with so much love, so much care. There was no question of it in his eyes.

“I was so taken aback by you, by your smile. In that moment, I felt as if I had been struck by a bolt of lightning,” he confessed. A confession which rattled her to her core. “I didn’t know what to say- what do- You really took – You still take my breath away,” he continued.

The windows of her soul were flooding with emotional tears. Now she remembered. She remembered how he had stood mute to her introduction simply turning away from her without a single word of acknowledgement. All this time she had interpreted his actions as being rude. Both shared a small laugh. All this time “I was so scared and shaken by what I had felt, by what would or wouldn’t happen. So, my first instinct was to turn away and leave.” He admitted sheepishly. “At the time the emotion was so foreign to me,” His thumb gently stroked her face. “Guess that’s pretty embarrassing, huh?” He said leaning forward and kissing away a stray tear that had escaped her eye.

“You choose say that to me right now? How am I supposed to top that?” She cried out now more tears spilling as she threw her arms around him.

“You can admit that you didn’t wholly come with us only because Uncle invited you along,” he said with a slightly grin embracing her back. “Ha!” She pulled away and pointed at him. “You wish. I’m afraid your terrible temper and appalling manners weren’t enough to convince me to chase you to the end of the world”

“They were enough to convince you to marry me!”

She bit her lip at the teasing expression on his face and hit his arm playfully. He wasn’t wrong.

“Guys?” The Avatar poked his head through the gaping door. Aang raised his eyebrows as if saying ‘Hurry up!’ Before ducking out of view.

“There goes my lunch,” Toph grumbled nauseously from the outside.

“That is so romantic,” Katara coed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” They could hear Sokka. “Let’s go, I want to seat in the front. I can’t wait to see when Mecha cries like a baby.”

“See you on the other side?” She said stepping away from him, her hand still in his warm one.

He winked at her making her rosy cheeks glow, eyes shine as a smile bloomed on her face. “I love you,” she said to him letting go. Making way to the temple and to the altar where she would be waiting for him to stand by her side. “I love you.”

xxx

AN: The end... (I may or may not have cried when I started playing Avatar’s Love)

#Zuko #prince zuko #prince Zuko fanfic #prince Zuko x oc #fanfiction #fantasy #fire lord zuko #zutsai #avatar #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanfiction #avatar oc #fan fiction #fanfic #wattpad #ao3

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colorfullfalls · 4 years ago

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Appreciated

Summary: An American assistant catches Kylo Ren's eye at a United Nations conference.

Kylo Ren did not appreciate Earth. The people were unaware of his power, of the First Order's power. He was undoubtedly taking over Earth whether it was liked or not. He didn't care. He was free to do what he pleased without anyone to stop him. The UN gathered to discuss the issue of what to do, if war was even an option. Kylo Ren was amused by Earth's citizens for thinking they had a choice. Even if there was a war, the First Order would dominate within hours. His light saber would kill any of these fool within seconds. The conference was held in the United States, tense anxiety looming over each member like a cloud. Kylo smirked at the intimidation of his starkiller hovering in the sky. One wrong move and he would wreak havoc.

His knights surrounded him as he walked through the streets earlier that day taking in the new scenes of the world that would soon be theirs. Women moved their babies away from the crew, men hesitated to keep walking, and kids pointed and whispered in awe. Attention that was not completely negative was foreign to him. Other world's would scream in fear and hatred as soon as their ships landed. But at the same time, Earth was so very unaware how things go when it came to him.

Washington D.C was busy as people filed into the House Chambers for the primal meeting. Kylo pushed past a few representatives of Spain as he walked in, his build larger than anyone else's. He rolled his eyes. This was all unnecessary to him, but he let them have their fun. Tomorrow he would take what was his. What was owed to him for his shitty upcoming with Luke.

He leaned against the back wall as the meeting began. Everyone in the room was dressed in suits or pant suits or even dresses. Clothes here were much different than he was customed to. Listening was no priority of his because this damn gathering was equal to a child's birthday celebration in his eyes. Meaning that nothing was going to be accomplished.

You slipped in beside him holding five coffees on a tray. You glanced at the beast beside her but kept going. You could not afford to deliver cold coffees during such a crisis. Your job depended on it. American representatives took the coffees wand practically shooed you away without a single thank you. Shoulders sagging, you went to walk back out to grab their sandwiches.

Kylo watched the encounter with confusion. They took the coffees without even looking at you, and you were somehow okay with it? His people served him but that's because he was in charge. He didn't say thank you, didn't need to. But these low lives? What possible status could they have? One among hundreds at a meeting. Earth was odd because it was divided, different leaders ruling different areas. In his eyes it made Earth weak.

You were breathtakingly beautiful. Short hair framed your face, cascading to rest right about the shoulders. You looked unbelievably kind with your soft smile even though you just got treated like scum. You looked like a woman who should be Queen of a prosperous planet, not an unappreciated assistant of sorts.

"Come here." Kylo's voice caught not only your attention, but also the people's around you. Your eyes adverted to him, ghostly pointing a finger at yourself in confusion.

"M-me?"

"Yes, you, come."

You sheepishly trudged over, terrified that the Supreme Leader would kill you. His hair fell over some of his face as he looked expectantly down at you. You went to kneel in front of him but his gloved hand grabbed your bicep.

"State your position."

"Assistant, sir."

He clicked his tongue in amusement at you calling him sir. Such a beauty in a shitty place. Your voice was soft and unsure. It made his hard exterior slightly melt away. His mother once told him when he was a young boy that you only truly fall in love once. That your soul only binds completely with another one single time. Woman usually were not that desirable to him. He would have sex with them but he never cared about them. He was already interested in you.

"Seems beneath you. Follow me."

You swallowed heavily at the order, but before you could protest his knights were crowding behind you. A silent demand that you comply to their leader's wish. You sighed. Today was simply not your day. A black ship was parked outside in the yard, white armored Storm Troopers surrounding it. They stared at you earlier when you had walked past to deliver coffee. Not friendly folks, you presumed. Kylo waved his two fingers and his guard dogs shifted, allowing a clear path to the entrance ramp.

Kylo walked in first and turned around, leaning against the wall. Apparently that was his usual. Yet again his fingers moved to signal his knights away. They nodded their heads and in synch left down the ramp to guard themselves. His dark hair flowed slightly against the light breeze.

"Earth is a pitiful thing." He declared, "Technology is far behind other planets, no alien species habitat the area, and the people here? They are senseless. My troops could destroy this place."

You sighed, "I am not a leader. I cannot discuss terms with you. Leaders are in the room you just took me out of."

He rolled his eyes at your lack of understanding. He wanted you to understand that he was tolerating Earth for the day, but he wanted to more than tolerate you.

"I do not wish to discuss terms with you." Your eyes snapped to his. You had been in many situations where you had zero power. You were to listen and do what was told because the people you work for are above you. In charge. While you work your ass off and still are struggling to announce yourself as a successful woman. Again, Kylo Ren was way way way above you on terms of authority. Being an assistant woman on Earth is no comparison to the handsome and aggressive man before you.

"Why then...?"

"Why what? Say it." His voice was demanding and goosebumps traveled down your arms and surely to your legs too.

"Why did you bring me here? Oh no.. am I going to die to set an example? Of course this is the karma for not picking up that Hitchhiker the other day. Paranoia is what gets me killed... Mom would be proud." You rambled to yourself, hands running down your face in frustration.

Kylo shook his head no, not liking that you assumed the worst of him, "I am not killing you. Tell me your name."

"Y/N."

He hummed in appreciation of your name, never hearing it before. It somehow suited you perfectly. He nodded, "I'm Kylo."

You nervously barked out a laugh, "Yes. Kylo Ren. I am aware of that, infact the whole world is. Did I do something to disrespect you earlier?"

"You were disrespected."

This took you by surprise. The lethal Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, Han and Leia's only heir was pressed at how you were treated by your asshole bosses. Being a moderately pretty woman gained you attention from time to time, but catching his eye was beyond you. Unknown to you Kylo was reading your mind. It was easy to slip into.

Kylo was stunned that you referred to yourself as moderately pretty. In his eyes you were the most beautiful being his brown eyes landed on. Maybe it was his Mother's tale about soulmates that was getting to him. He considered this very carefully. He did know you or your soul, but could the force be giving him a hint that you would be his one life partner? Either way he was not letting you rot here.

"Not really. It comes with the job because that's how things work around here." You retorted, glancing outside to see people looking in at you. An elderly man stood on the skirts of the lawn, worrying that you were in harm's way. You offered a wave followed by a thumbs up and it was enough because he continued on.

"Do you think you deserve to be treated as such?"

"I'm a hard worker but so are millions of people who get the short end of the stick."

Kylo rolled his eyes and pointed outside, "Blowing this place up may be considered a favor. This is the supposed greatest country's capital and there are homeless here."

"Anyone can be poor anywhere. Earth has it's flaws, sir, but I can assure you that there is good here." You crossed your arms in a defying manner. This was your home.

"Good and bad are not definite, both coexist in a complicated manner. Whoever disagrees is an imbecile." He snarled, hand hitting the wall in anger. Both at you defending Earth and for not listening to him.

How could you defend a planet that was full of selfish pricks who were living lavishly with billions of dollars while more poor swarmed the streets than flies. Kylo took care of his people once they were under his rule. The First Order elegantly supported struggling citizens according to need. Earth seemed like a waste of his time. It only infuriated him at how poorly it was doing.

"What do you want from me?" You quietly asked. Escaping was impossible. Troops surrounded the ship and Kylo Ren was said to be stubborn.

"Power comes with loneliness, Y/N. Consulting with my officers leaves me in a position to be weak. Being weak revolts me. As beautiful as you may be, you are weak."

You scoffed in disbelief, "Excuse me?"

His body moved to surrounded yours like a lion going after a gazelle. His body pinned you, hands rested close to your head against the solid black wall, "You are weak. You take shit from worthless money makers with no true value. Earth raised you this way. But I am here to change that. You will be more."

"More?"

"Yes. We can help one another. For you, I will give you power. No longer will those beneath you take you for granite." His voice was stern like he had all the answers in a tiny book that only he had access to.

"Yeah? What about you, Supreme Leader?"

"Glad you asked. I need someone to confide in without the risk of being overthrown. The force within me senses trust and loyalty. Simply words are what I require from you."

Compromises rarely proved helpful in your case. Set backs always trailed along with them like a loose string on an old sweater. Untangled until nothing but scraps were left. Kylo Ren was a snake. A successful murderer who worked for his cause alone. But what did you have to lose at this point? Your family shut you out after you moved away, you were really too busy for friends, and certainly busy enough to not have a significant other. Leaving Earth behind did not sound that bad. Not when what was offered was appreciation in turn for treating a someone like a decent human being.

"Okay. On one condition."

Kylo's head leaned down so that he was looking into your eyes, "Go on."

"Protect Earth instead of destroying it. I'm not dumb, this place has shitty people but there are simple pleasures that I want maintained. Old tribes, trains, caramel candy, the cultures, high school baseball games, fireworks, cows in pastures, and dogs. Dogs are so very sweet and we don't deserve them. Just please..."

Kylo leaned away from you, crossing his strong arms over his chest. Your eyes tried to look as pleading as possible. He didn't want to give in. Earth was pretty annoying and it being wiped out of the sky would please him to an outrageous extent. But the way you were asking so nicely with every ounce of his heart, he contemplated it. Not to mention that it meant he would finally have someone to talk real conversations with.

"Deal."

#kylo ren imagine #kylo ren

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azwriting · 5 years ago

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A Tragedy (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Seven

Hi guys, here’s chapter seven! Sorry it took so long, I kept rewriting a lot of the parts because I couldn't settle on the best way to write it. Also we are going to pretend that purple kyber crystals exist...Anyways I hope you all like it! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Summary: (Y/N)’s relives all of her most important memories and realizes Kylo and her were more than friends.

Warning(s): Suggestive Material (not really), Mentions of death and pain,

Word Count: 6997

(Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open to the sound of the man whispering her name. Her eyes wide open, untrained, and filled with tears. A tidal wave had crashed over her, returning her past as if it had never left.

She was in a brightly lit meadow, the sun casting a warm halo around a man and woman, who sat contently behind their house in the Nayli countryside. Their attention was captivated by the toddler, their daughter, who sat in front of them on the soft yellow blanket. Her (Y/E/C) eyes were wide as her chubby hands lifted a shiny rattle up into midair.

A fire filled her vision next, smoke infiltrating the lungs of the four year old girl being rushed through the burning house by her frantic father. Once outside, her father placed her down on the grass, a safe distance away from the fire. “Stay here, I have to go find your mother!”

The man instructed moving to leave, but the young girl’s tiny hand caught his. “No Papa please don’t leave me, I’m scared!” She sobbed. Another part of the house crumbled down in the background as her father stood frozen for a moment. He quickly retrieved a purple crystal from around his neck and placed the oversized necklace around his daughter’s neck.

“Wear this it’s a Kyber Crystal, one like the Jedi’s used to use in the stories your mother and I told you. It will keep you safe until we return.” The child’s hand clamped around the crystal watching as her father ran back into the burning house, only to never return.

The girl sat in a small white hospital room, any evidence of the fire being cleaned away as she now wore a white medical gown, the purple Kyber crystal still hanging from her neck. Tears streamed down her face, she knew her parents were gone, and she was all alone. A woman with fair skin, warm gentle eyes, and her dark hair braided up entered the room sometime later. Her eyes traveled from the focused little girl to the floating syringe beside her, a knowing smirk forming on the woman’s face.

“Hello dear, what’s your name?” The woman offered her a sincere smile, stepping closer.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)” The girl whispered, the syringe dropping in the background.

The woman frowned, “My name is Leia Organa, can you say that?”

The child smiled softly, “Lele.” Leia laughed, she supposed that was close enough.

“(Y/N) love, would you like to come home with me?” The girl nodded eagerly, perhaps this woman could provide her a new home, a new family.

The woman with a long braid trailing down her back, Leia, carried the girl into a spacious looking condo overlooking the capital of Chandrila, Hanna City.

“Leia you cannot seriously be thinking of taking her in?” A deep voice spoke causing the little girl to whimper, snuggling deeper into Leia’s shoulder.

“I knew her parents, (Y/M/N) and (Y/F/N), it’s the least I can do. She’d be an orphan if I didn’t!” Two men sighed audibly and a large wookie mumbled incoherently as well. “There’s another reason though…” Leia moved to put the girl down on a soft white carpet where a black haired boy with brown eyes, looking to be a year older than her, played with levitating toy blocks. As soon as the girl sat next to the boy, her hand lifted and flew a blue block over to her. The boy’s head lifted, shooting her a glare to which she only giggled at.

“She’s strong with the Force, Luke.” Leia said to the sandy blonde haired man.

“You said (Y/L/N)?” Luke questioned. Leia only nodded and Luke let out a small laugh.

“What’s funny kid?” the dark haired man asked.

“She must be the ancestor of Qui-Gon Jinn, Old Ben’s master. His great niece or something! You have to keep her then…”

The brunette man sighed once again, “Great another Force User, as if I wasn’t already outnumbered!”

The girl, age six, woke in a dark room, a nightmare about her parents demise causing tears to fall thickly down her face. She quickly climbed out of her bed, her tiny legs carrying her to her sense of comfort. She looked out at the living room seeing the bustling nightlife of Hanna from the large open balcony, before entering the room next to hers. The boy was in his bed, tossing in his sleep, as the young girl approached his bed still crying. He suddenly woke from a sniffle, sensing her distraughtness in the Force.

“Nightmare again?” He questioned rubbing his eyes, black hair messily splayed across the pillow. The girl only nodded and climbed into bed, into his open arms.

“I’m sorry for waking you all the time Benny.” She whimpered in his embrace.

“It’s okay that’s what I’m here for (Y/N/N), always.”

The girl and Ben were three years older, running through the meadow of Naboo, visiting for a political meeting Leia had to attend. The family had escaped to the quiet fields one afternoon though. The little (Y/H/C) girl was chasing the bouncing black curls of the boy.

“Ben!” She called out, laughing, her smaller legs unable to keep up with the Ben’s long strides. His legs already growing longer than hers, it was not fair.

Ben only chuckled teasing her, “Keep up (Y/N)!” The girl huffed pushing her legs to go faster, leading her to take a misstep and go tumbling into the plush green grass. “(Y/N)?” Ben halted before doubling back and diving into the grass beside the unmoving girl, lying face down in the grass.

“Ben is she okay?” A woman’s voice called from up the hill. He rolled the girl over to see a sheepish smile on her face and the boy let out a sigh of relief.

“I fell.” She giggled and Ben with his warm eyes laughed in return.

“So clumsy!” He pulled her back up to her feet before the same woman, Leia, shouted for them.

“Kids come here, Han take a photo of us!” The children groaned to themselves, not another picture.

“Coming Lele!”

“Coming Mom!”

“Can you hurry up?” Ben groaned watching as the girl fiddled with the wire paneling of the office door.

“Can you give me a minute?” The girl rolled her eyes, keeping her attention on the multicolored wires. The two had been locked up in a stuffy office all day while Ben’s parents dealt with political problems, and it was time for a jail break. Rewiring a blue and red wire, the girl watched as the door flew open. “Ha take that Spaceboy!” Her teasing was cut short by C-3PO entering the room, clearly the reason why the door had truly opened.

Ben gave her sly look and she pushed him out the door past the gold droid. “Go Ben go!” The girl shouted as the two ran through the hanger and out onto the landing strip, heading for the fastest piece of junk in the galaxy.

“Young Solo, Miss (Y/N) where do you two think you are going?” C-3PO called out to the mischievous children. Ben only smirked to the girl as they raced up the ramp and into the cockpit. He slid into the pilot seat and she into the co-pilot. Oh Han would regret teaching these two partners in crime how to fly. Barely being able to see over the dash the two took off in the Falcon for a joyride.

When they returned later, the Falcon covered in branches, Leia and Han with their arms crossed and faces red with anger awaited them.

“Oh we’re so screwed” Both children uttered.

Months later the children would find themselves back on the Falcon, with nervous expressions and intertwined hands trying to find comfort in one another.

“They’re only sending us away because of me.” Ben mumbled, his inky black curls moving to hide his face.

“No they want us to become Jedi’s, to master the Force!” The girl corrected, an excited expression taking over her face. She would become a Jedi, like the ones her parents told stories about.

He only shook his head, “N-No… my p-parents are scared, scared of m-me, of this part hidden in me.” The girl’s smile dropped, eyes widening at his words. Squeezing her best friend’s hand, she urged him to look at her. His warm brown eyes held a look of sadness and fear, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“Well I’m not Ben.”

The girl and Ben were two years older dressed in variating shades of brown robes. Ben, with short black hair and a small braid trailing down his shoulder, was now officially a teenager as they sat cross legged on opposite sides of the room. Master Luke had to split them up, the two were always causing distractions during lessons. They were supposed to be meditating, searching the Force, but the two friends only continued to steal glances at each other, something strange and unfamiliar twisting its way into their stomachs.

Ben was meditating in his hut when the girl bursted through the entrance obviously excited.

“C’mon Spaceboy its time!” Ben popped open one eye, glancing over at her. He was mildly annoyed with her for disturbing his meditation, but her grinning face seemed to diminish his irritation.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” He stood and the two walked out to the overgrown field just beyond the temple and huts, their place. Sitting down beside each other, the young padawans watched as the sun set beyond the ridge, their hands merely touching in the grass.

The girl clad in nothing more than a white nightgown and tears exited her tiny hut and walked to the one a tad further from the temple. Inside the other hut, lanky teen Ben awaited her on his cot, eyes turning sincere as she entered.

“Are you okay?” He whispered already shifting over in his small cot.

“N-No” She choked out, lying down beside him, her body trembling.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, “No, just hold me.” Ben awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, her head resting against his bony chest. Feelings inside them both beginning to awaken as they fell back to sleep.

Another year had passed and the girl now 14, with a thick braid trailing down her back wielding her purple lightsaber. Master Luke had thought the color odd, the color symbolizing a connection to both sides of the Force, and the girl purely exhibited the Light side. But she had been drawn to it because of her father’s necklace which she could not part with. Or perhaps it was a possible indication of what her future held. Ben, 15, stood confidently across from the girl wielding his blue lightsaber. His hair was becoming longer, padawan braid becoming lost in the sea of curls, and he had grown beginning to tower even more over the girl. They grinned cockily at each other as they lined themselves up for a training session.

They were the strongest amongst the group of padawans, in combat and in mastering the ways of the Force; Therefore the perfect partners, the perfect challenge as they continued to grow stronger. Ben striked first obviously impatient, but the girl easily deflected the advance with her saber. She went to strike back but he was too quick, moving swiftly to the side. The girl groaned repositioning herself for the next move. Ben swiped at her once again but she ducked and rolled off to the side.

She quickly stood back up with a slight smirk plastered across her face. With black hair covering most of his eyes, Ben sent a playful smile her direction which she rapidly dismissed leaping forward to steal a strike. He didn’t seem to catch onto her plan, seemingly too distracted by something else, causing her to tackle him to the ground. Ben groaned looking up at the girl smiling down at him, her saber merely inches from his neck.

“Gotcha Spaceboy.” His face turned a bright shade of red, his words seeming to be stuck in his throat.

“I hate you.” He finally choked out, a flustered expression still on his features.

“I know.”

The two, another year older, climbed into an old Tandem X-Wing. They had successfully convinced Master Luke to allow them to go to Chandrila for a grand ball Leia was hosting. They just had to be back within two day cycles and were not allowed to tell any of their fellow peers, which was not a concern. Ben did not talk to anyone really and although the girl was friendly with her peers, she stuck with her partner in crime. They’re had been some sort of tension rising within the New Republic though, something Leia nor Master Luke would tell them about, but the ball was being thrown in an attempt to regain back the New Republic’s favor.

The girl leaned forward in her seat, placing her chin on the handsome boy’s shoulder, his eyes locked tightly on the vast darkness of space ahead. He was a terrific pilot at such a young age, taking after his Father, Uncle, and apparently his Grandfather. His Grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, was once a powerful Jedi Knight before being murdered by Darth Vader. Master Luke always told them stories about him, stories he had been told by the man Ben was named after. He always seemed to be saddened by the stories of his murdered Grandfather and his Grandmother who died after childbirth. Ben missed them, even if he had never met them.

“We’re almost there.” He mumbled and the girl smiled, they were almost home.

Landing in Hanna, the two were greeted by Leia, her eyes watering as they fell on the two children before her. In fact, they were not children anymore, instead transitioning into beautiful young adults. She had not seen them in five years, only ever seeing the occasional hologram.

“Ben!” She grinned excitedly pulling her towering son into a tight embrace.

Ben laughed hugging his mother back, “Hi Mom!” Leia pulled back and held her son’s face in her hands, examining all the new little details and changes occurring on his face. The girl knew Leia saw it too, he looked like his Father…

“Hi Lele.” The girl spoke up from the side, her large smile never fading. Leia released Ben and turned to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“(Y/N) dear, my goodness how beautiful you are becoming as well!” The girl giggled into the embrace as Ben questioned, “Is Dad here?” Leia pulled back from the hug and frowned.

“No he had business he had to attend to, he’s sorry he couldn’t be here Ben.” Ben stiffened and nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over.

“Well,” The girl cleared her throat, “We should go get ready for the ball, I don’t believe Jedi robes are considered appropriate for tonight’s festivities.” Leia nodded and ushered them off, watching as the girl silently comforted her son, something odd transpiring in the Force around them.

The ball had officially commenced and the event center overlooking the city was filled to the brim with people dressed in elegant wear. The girl nervously walked around the dancing couples, picking at the seam line of her mauve colored dress. Leia’s handmaids had transformed the young padawan into a princess: with purple vines painted up her cheeks, white gardenias and lavender woven into her tightly curled hair, and flowers and vines embroidered into the mauve colored dress. She looked like a child of spring.

Eyes followed her as she moved throughout the ballroom, hers only searching for one. And there he was across the room, in dark blue robes, brown eyes wide and already locked on her. His wild hair was tamed and sleek, his red tipped ears poking out slightly as he stalked across the floor to her. He stopped in front of her and the girl’s heart rate picked up, he was becoming outrageously handsome, it was not fair for her best friend to be so… distracting.

“Dance with me.” Ben blurted out, hand restlessly tugging at the high neck of his blue tunic.

“Of course.” She smiled and the two awkwardly stuttered into the flow of the dancing couples.

“You look stunning, if it wasn’t obvious.” The girl blushed fiercely head dropping in an attempt to hide from his prying eyes.

“Thank you Benny, you look handsome as well!” His cheeks flushed a bright red and he dropped his head as they continued to waltz.

“What are these white flowers? They smell beautiful.” He mumbled into the crown of her head.

“Gardenias, my parents used to grow them by the house in Nayli. They are supposed to represent pure love.” Ben pulled back slightly, smirking down at her, making her heart rate pick up once more. He was close, too close for them to be just friends.

“Is that so?”

The pair were back at the Jedi Temple, age 17 and 16, smirking confidently at each other as they positioned themselves for another fight. Their power only continued to grow, and they had an ongoing wager on who would win, both of them the strongest padawans especially together. With quick strategic movements the two danced around the training room as other padawan’s watched curiously, despite their apprehension of Ben. He moved with such agility, it left the girl a little breathless as they kept deflecting each other’s strikes. Suddenly as the girl stepped forward her ankle rolled, causing her to lose her footing.

Not being quick enough to deflect the impending attack from Ben, a scream pierced through the previously focused and tranquil atmosphere. The girl crumbled to the ground in agony, her hands flying up to her neck only to instantly cry out again. Ben dove to the floor, their lightsaber’s long forgotten.

“(Y-Y/N), I-I’m so s-sorry!” Master Luke rushed over alongside other students, quickly examining the singed skin on her neck.

“Bring her to the infirmary now!” Ben with tears streaming down his pale face, pushed away the other students and lifted the girl himself. “Nephew.” Master Luke warned sensing the fear and self-hatred rising in him. He simply ignored his uncle watching the girl’s eyes flutter shut, lightheaded due to the movement and the white hot pain radiating from her neck.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” Ben reassured more to himself than her as he carried his best friend to the infirmary.

The next memory, (Y/N) had seen it before, but there was more to it than she had previously seen. The girl was lying in the infirmary bed once again, and Ben’s head was still pressed against their intertwined hands, sobbing. “Ben,” She whispered to the clearly distraught boy, “Look at me.” His head slowly raised to latch onto her own watery (Y/E/C) eyes. “I-I’m in love with you.” She whispered, cheeks burning.

Ben inhaled sharply, pushing himself out of his chair to hover over her. A large smile broke across his tear streaked face, “I’m in love with you too.” He quickly pressed his lips to hers, both forgetting the sacred code of the Jedi. A Jedi will not know love, will not be involved in romantic relationships, as it will only prove to be a distraction. Their sweet innocent kisses grew heated, the girl sitting up to remove his tunic, hers soon following.

They broke their kiss at the removal of their shirts and the boy whispered, “I love you.” His sweet eyes were hooded in love, lust, and amazement as he stared down at the girl.

“I love you more.” She gleamed pulling him back into a feverish kiss, a silent vow being passed between their shared breaths and confessions. Their love was worth living in secrecy over…

Pressed against the side of the temple, the girl and Ben stole quick kisses in between lessons. “Ben we have to go before someone notices we’re gone.” She giggled as he pressed his lips all over her neck and face.

“No, we can spare another minute.” He mumbled against her skin before pressing another chaste kiss to her lips.

“Ben Solo! Where are you? Don’t make me hologram your mother!” Master Luke shouted from somewhere, causing Ben to groan dropping his onto her white clothed shoulder, a string of incoherent words tumbling from his lips.

“I forgot I have my private lesson today…” He lifted his head displaying his bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

“Go” The girl giggled, “before we get caught, or worse he calls Leia and she chews both of our ears out.”

Ben laughed, “The latter sounds worse.” She giggled agreeing as he pressed his lips to hers one last time. “I’ll come find you after.” Ben whispered, his hot breath fanning across her face, before parting.

Months later the two sat stiffly in an empty classroom, guilt and nerves etched onto their faces as a furious Master Luke stood before them. They had been caught, caught in a compromising position that clearly stated they were romantically involved, the biggest no in the Jedi Code. “How could you two be so careless? You both know the Jedi are not allowed to have partners, let alone be involved in such activities as you two were!” The girl and Ben both ducked their heads, blushing at the fact they had been caught during one of their nightly secret hut rendezvouses.

“Children can you please excuse the two of us for a moment?” Leia’s voice rose from her hologram placed directly in front of them. Not needing to be told twice, Ben and the girl rushed out of the room, stopping outside the door threshold to eavesdrop. “Leia why are you not furiously chewing them both out? They are jeopardizing their ability to become Jedi!”

His sister sighed, “I’m not mad Luke, that’s why. I think you should allow them to continue being together.” Ben and the girl’s head whipped to look at each other, surprised by Leia’s words. Apparently they weren’t the only ones.

“What? Why?” Luke demanded confused.

“Luke they will continue regardless of your advisory and remember our parents. Who married in secret, who’s secrets were their demise. Please I beg you don’t let that happen to my boy. Don’t let that happen to (Y/N).” Luke let out a frustrated sigh, fisting his graying hair into his hand.

“Fine, Fine! But no one else is to know of their relationship.” Luke reluctantly agreed. Ben and the girl outside the door let out a loud cheer as they embraced each other tightly. Leia laughed hearing them and Luke groaned, already regretting his decision.

“You two also need to be taking precautions, I don’t want to be a grandmother yet!” Leia called and Ben’s face burned bright red.

“MOM!”

Kisses were being peppered across Ben’s exposed skin as he carried the girl on his back, heading to the quiet fields ahead. The sun was touching the horizon as the day came to an end, soft pastels painting the sky and clouds. Ben squatted down once he arrived at their spot, letting down the girl. The two sat, the girl placing herself between Ben’s legs, her (Y/E/C) eyes watching the sunset with immense happiness. “So beautiful.” She traced the swirls of lilac woven into the pink sky with her index finger.

“You are.” Ben whispered pressing a kiss to her hair, eliciting a small snort from the girl. The two watched the setting sun for awhile, enjoying the tranquility of the evening when Ben spoke up once again. “Will you marry me?”

The girl jumped in his arms spinning to look at him, wide eyed. “What?”

Ben’s face flushed immediately, “I mean I don’t have a ring, but marry me?” The girl gawked for a moment, her mind unable to process fully.

“We’re so young though…”

“So, you’re the one. My grandfather was nineteen when he married my grandmother. I’m 18 what’s the big difference?” The girl’s face broke into a large smile as she turned fully, straddling his lap.

“I’m the one?” She whispered hands lifting to cradle Ben’s cheeks.

“You always have been. You and I were written in the stars, brought together by the Force.”

The girl giggled, “Such a poet Mr. Solo.” He snickered lightly, still waiting for her response. “Yes, of course.” She answered finally. Ben’s grinned so widely, pulling her down into a messy kiss.

“Shit,” Ben breathed when they parted for air, “I’m going to need to find a ring.”

“(Y/N) wake up.” Ben whispered one night, weeks later.

“Hmm what?” The girl shifted in her small cot, seeing Ben fully dressed in his darkest robes, kneeling down beside her.

“If we leave now, we’ll be back before dawn. No one will know, not even Luke.” The girl blinked heavily, pushing away the sleep still clinging to her.

“Leave to where?” She questioned, puzzled.

“To get married.” Ben smiled, as if it was obvious.

“Oh you were serious about that?” The girl joked, pushing her blanket off. Ben scoffed helping her stand as he did. “What about the rings? And a dress? Witnesses? Ben what about all of that?” She questioned looking into her love’s eyes.

“You’re lack of faith in me is disturbing. I have it all figured out don’t worry about it.” The girl narrowed her eyes, observing him.

“Okay let’s go!” Ben grinned and pulled her out of the hut and towards the old Tandem X-Wing.

The sound of wind brushing through trees and water slowly lapping against the shore filled the girl’s ears as she walked towards the balcony overlooking the endless blue of the Naboo lake. The place she had loved so much as a child and now she would be wedded here. At the place where Ben’s grandparents had secretly sworn their endless love to each other and now she would do the same. The ivory dress, with white flowers blooming throughout the body and sleeves, blew gently in the warm breeze as she walked towards her fate. She grinned to herself in excitement with nerves filling her to the brim as she thought of their secret wedding about to take place.

It was simply beautiful in Naboo: she could feel the warm setting sun on her skin, the smell of cherry blossoms floating through the air, and the gentle warm breeze flowing through her. A crown of white gardenias and lavender was placed on top of her ivory lace veil and her purple kyber crystal still hung from it’s usual spot. She could feel it in the Force, in a way, her parents were with her.

The girl looked up to Ben, who grinned whole heartedly down at her. Their hands intertwined as the Minister asked them to recite the vows of unity.

Ben and the girl in synchronization recited, “My soul honors your soul. I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides. I honor the light, love, truth, beauty and peace within you, because it is also within me. In sharing these things we are united, we are the same, we are one.” The girl’s (Y/E/C) eyes filled with tears as they placed the delicate silver bands onto their ring fingers.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.” Ben eagerly swept the girl into his arms and bent down placing a sweet passionate kiss to her lips. The Minister excused himself as the two broke away.

“My wife, (Y/N).” Ben breathed out testing the word for the first time.

“My husband.” The girl whispered back, grinning. C-3PO congratulated them but the two ignored their one witness, only focusing on each other. “How did you find this lovely gown?” She questioned her husband.

“I had some help.” Ben smiled looking over to the woman standing next to C-3PO, his mother.

Leia approached them, tears in her eyes, “As much as I would love for you two to stay longer so we could celebrate, you have to go before Luke finds out you left, and find a way to hide those.” She pointed to their left hands adorned with a silver wedding band. The couple nodded saying their goodbyes before running back to the X-Wing, hand in hand.

“Would you stay still?” The girl groaned trying to remain still, but her back was starting to kill her.

“How much more do you have to do?” She questioned Ben, who sat to her side, illustrating her portrait into a large piece of parchment.

“Not much, now stay still.” He responded eyes flickering up to study another area of her face.

“You’re lucky I love you.” The girl mumbled observing the black leather necklace that hung from Ben’s neck, holding and concealing his wedding ring underneath his brown tunic. A similar necklace hidden under her tunic as well. They had been married for 3 months and Leia had kept their secret, vowing that she only wanted them happy. Ben snickered, the ink from his pen gliding perfectly against the piece of paper as he continued to commit her image.

“I know.”

“Ben talk to me.” The girl pleaded as her husband’s screaming woke them both up in her tiny hut one night. He had been distant lately and the girl was unsure why. She could feel this other side of him edging it’s way closer and closer to the surface, but she was unsure what it even was. His nightmares seemed to consume him every night, dark circles starting to form around his eyes.

“It was you, you died.” The girl nodded slowly not showing any sign of being bothered by his words.

“How?”

Ben only shook his head, “I’m not sure it was blurry, but you were crying and there was smoke… but that’s not the worst part.” The girl’s hand rubbed up and down Ben’s back soothingly, silently asking him to continue. “You were being carted through the streets of Hanna. Your skin was pale, flowers placed in your hair, your whole body l-lifeless.” Ben shuddered at the thought, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Love, I’m not going anywhere.” She comforted wrapping her arms around his shaking frame.

“I know, I will protect you. I promise.” Ben stated coldly into the quiet night.

The girl and Ben, now 19 and 18, walked across the vast fields of the planet. “Ben where are we going?” The girl groaned, not being able to see behind Ben’s large hands, that covered her eyes and most of her face.

“We’re almost there, patience my wife.” He laughed at her impatience. She sighed annoyed but allowed him to continue to lead her to the unknown destination. “Okay stop, but no peeking!” Ben instructed after another 10 minutes. The girl felt his hands leave her eyes but she kept her eyes closed as told. She could smell the sweet smell of multiple flowers and the faint sound of lapping water. “Keep your eyes closed.” He reminded her sounding farther away. The girl heard the sound of a swoosh, like a door opening, before warm calloused hands grabbed hers, guiding her forward. After a moment Ben stopped, “Open.”

He was close enough that the girl could hear his racing heartbeat pounding inside his chest. Slowly opening her eyes, a wide open living space greeted her. There was a kitchen on the side, a hallway behind them and another long hallway in front of her.

“Ben where are we? Who’s house is this?”

Ben let out an uneasy laugh, “Um, it's ours.” The girl whipped around with wide eyes, looking to the smiling boy.

“What?” She questioned, a smile erupting across his face.

“It’s our house, the original owners have long abandoned it. Master Luke said after we are done training we can live here. Think of it, we will be Jedi Masters, training padawans, going on missions around the galaxy.” the girl grinned, letting out a small squeak of excitement, before rushing around the house to examine it. It needed some work but nothing too bad, surprisingly, but she had a suspicion that Ben had been fixing the place up. The girl stopped by a large window beside the kitchen, observing the quiet terrain surrounding the house.

“No neighbors? You can’t even see the temple from here.” She felt Ben quietly step up behind her, moving her hair to the side.

He planted soft open mouth kisses down her neck, “No one to hear us.” His voice came out huskily and the girl turned to face him with a smirk on her lips.

“Ben Solo you are positively evil.”

Ben laughed, “That’s why you love me.”

She scrunched her nose up, “An argument could be made.” Ben went to argue but she quieted his words by placing a feverish kiss to his waiting plump lips. He kissed her back immediately, their kisses soon becoming sloppy and needy.

“I love you (Y/N), more than anything.”

The next images were familiar, the setting of a nightmare. Ben had not come over to the girl’s hut that night, instead falling asleep in his own hut. She was worried about him, more nightmares and dark thoughts were plaguing Ben. He had even begun to express his doubt over what his place was in all of this. The girl just hoped that her love would be okay… The girl jolted awake to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke.

Grabbing her lightsaber, the girl rushed out of her hut, seeing the main Jedi Temple on fire in the background. Her eyes were automatically drawn to the bodies lying in the field, slaughtered in cold blood. She stood frozen, what was happening? She could hear screams within the temple and immediately began to run to help, but she was yanked back by a shadowy figure causing her to drop her lightsaber. “Ben! We need to help them!” She twisted around his arms to see blood smeared on his one cheek and how disheveled looking he was. There were tears wind whipped and dried on his cheeks, leaving behind a streaky mess. “Benny?”

The girl questioned fearful of the dark glimmer in his eyes. “(Y/N) we don’t belong here.” The girl went to cut him off but he shouted at her, “Let me finish!” She was frightened, this was not her Ben. “Luke tried to kill me, he sensed my power, my strength, our strength! We were a threat to him!” Ben exclaimed, looking back to his destroyed hut. Were?

“Are you hearing yourself? This is your Uncle, Ben.” The girl tried to reason with him, but he would not hear it.

“They’ve been lying to me about everything. You know my grandfather, the great Anakin Skywalker who was murdered by Darth Vader? He wasn’t!” The girl’s eyebrows furrowed, what did he mean? “Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader! One of the most powerful Sith Lords to live, and I have that blood in me.” The girl shook her head in disbelief, was Ben really related to Darth Vader? How had he even come to find out about this? Why had everyone lied to them?

“Join me, my love.” Ben pleaded still having a firm grip on her upper arms.

“You know I can’t follow, I can’t, we can’t!” The girl pulled against his grip but it only tightened making her grit her teeth.

“I have and you can too. I can protect you.” The girl shook her head violently, tears pouring down her crimson cheeks.

“I can’t follow you, you know that.” Ben huffed out frustrated, releasing his hurtful grip on her arms to push his hair out of his face. She backed away slowly until she heard the loud pleas coming from the temple once again. She turned to run but a hand grasped her once again.

“No (Y/N), I can’t lose you too!” Ben pleaded sorrow plaguing his eyes.

“I’m sorry Ben, but you already have.” The girl trembled as the words fumbled out of her mouth. Her hand reaching up to yank off the second black necklace she wore.

“N-NO!” Ben choked out, but it was too late. The girl handed him the necklace holding her wedding ring, before she pulled herself free of his grip. She was angry, upset, and regretted her actions but she could not focus on that as she ran inside the burning building. Inside the burning temple, smoke filled her lungs and vision.

She was not inside long before an awful loud rupture blared over the sound of crackling fire. She looked up to the ceiling, panic filled her bones, knowing what was to come. “(Y/N)!” A pain filled voice cried outside, just in time as the roof collapsed, caving in on top of her.

The girl stirred against the hard platform, her eyelids and lungs feeling heavy. “I don’t know R2, she just shut herself out of the Force, I can’t sense her anymore. That’s why she must forget, it's the only way to keep her safe from him. Set course for the Hosnian system, she will be safe amongst the Republic.”

The girl coughed, eyes fluttering open for a moment blinded by the bright light, “Master Luke?” She heard shuffling and then a shadow appeared in her eyes, blocking out some of the light. “Master Luke, where’s Ben? Is he okay?”

The shadow let out a deep pained sigh, “Shush dear everything’s okay, close your eyes and rest. Everything will be okay.”

The last two memories were not hers, (Y/N) knew that, yet despite that they entered her mind. Ben was covered in smoke and tears in the bedroom of the house, the house he had gotten for him and the girl. “She’s gone, She’s gone, She’s gone!” He repeated over and over again, losing control at the end. He had tried to run after her, but the roof caved in before he could enter. Now she was gone, he could not feel her in the Force anymore. Her pure light energy was gone, replaced by a hollow feeling inside him.

The tears poured down his face as he let out a gutted scream filled with anger and devastation. Ben retrieved his lightsaber from his side, igniting it. The blue light illuminated his sorrow filled face as he let the rage take a hold of him. He began slashing the corner of the wall in the bedroom, before eventually collapsing to the floor in exhaustion. His trembling hands reached out to collect her grey and black lightsaber from the floor and the black necklace with her small silver band tied to the end of it. Ben held the items in his hands as his sobs continued to shake him to his core, his mind racing around one single thought, his love was gone.

The next one, Ben was clad in all black robes on his knees in tears, staring out at the blackness of space. The setting around him began to fade and shift into what he was weeping over. Two coffins being carted through the dark streets of Hanna. Hundreds surrounded the coffins and horses, carrying flickering candles, mourning the loss of the two Chandrila children. In one coffin a hologram of Ben Solo laid lifeless dressed in dark blue robes and covered in white flowers. In the next coffin was the girl in a dark purple dress. Her hair was adorned in lilacs, lavender, and white gardenias, just like Ben’s nightmare. She looked beautiful just as he remembered her, but the color to her skin was gone. She was just as lifeless as he felt.

Ben hiccuped feeling a shaky hand being placed on his shoulder. He looked up and through his veil of tears he saw his mother standing beside him. She was crying watching the coffins moving slowly through the quiet streets, silently comforting her son, despite all that had happened. Leia knew her son was not dead, she knew he had turned and caused the destruction of the new Jedi.

Her hand swiftly was removed and the image began to fade, Ben back on the Star Destroyer. He quivered, clenching his gloved fists as he felt the darkness inside rise. His love was gone and he blamed Luke Skywalker. Ben swore he would find him and destroy him, as another realization dawned upon him. Just as Hanna was being led to believe, Ben Solo truly was dead.

(Y/N) looked ahead, her face soaked and her body trembling. “(Y/N)?” The man asked once again crouching down to her level. Her (Y/E/C) eyes fell onto him, inhaling sharply.

“B-Ben?”

His warm eyes filled with tears and hope, “Yes, it’s me! It’s Ben, your Ben… your Ben.” He trailed off pushing her hair back behind her ears and settling them on her cheeks. (Y/N)’s heart was pounding in her chest as her mind tried to process everything, it was all too much to handle, to bear. The girl was her, Kylo was Ben, her Ben. The fire flashed in her mind, then the massacred students, his dark rage burning inside.

“N-No, no, you’re not!” She sobbed out pushing his hands off of her face. “You’re not him! Ben Solo is dead!” (Y/N) screamed standing up abruptly. He stood with her trying to grab ahold of her, trying to calm her down. (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered shut remembering the shared kisses, shared embraces, their unclothed bodies moving together in such synchronization. It was all too much she could not keep it in. She was a volcano about to erupt.

“D-Don’t touch me!” (Y/N)’s hands stretched out to push him off, but instead a power, a force, inside of her sent him flying backwards. Kylo was ten feet away on the ground, looking up at her bewildered, a part of her now unlocked like her past.

Without so much as a second thought, (Y/N) took off running back into the house and into her room. Her name was (Y/N) (Y/L/N), she remembered who she was, she remembered the love, happiness, and pain.

She wished she could forget again.

Taglist:

@benpeggycartersolo

@2heures

@thephantomwriter

@thefandomzoneisdangerous

@carol-chann

@gambitsqueen

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #star wars #star wars series #Adam driver x reader

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connan-l · 5 years ago

Text

Those Left Behind

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Georges Bollinger & Giselle’s Family Summary: Years after his brothers’ deaths, Georges decides to go visit the family of the young woman who had supposedly lived at the cursed mansion with Michel. Why though, he is not sure himself.

Content Warning: Discussion about grief and death. Vague allusions to Michel's past abuse, Giselle's sexual assaults and all the bad stuffs in general that took place in Door 7.

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Link on Archive Of Our Own

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Notes: I've always been a little disappointed that we know almost nothing about Giselle’s family. I wish we'd been given a bit more information about them... I mean, we don't even know their names. If you named that asshole Amédée, you could've named Giselle's mom and sister too, Novec. I understand that they didn't have as much importance in the narrative as Michel's family, but I feel they still would've been great to flesh out Giselle's character even more. She is the main heroine, after all.

But in any case, I wrote this because I’ve been curious about what must’ve become of them after Giselle took on the role of the Maid. Her mother and sister spending the rest of their lives without ever knowing what truly happened to her is pretty sad…

It was also interesting to write Georges in the aftermath of Michel's death. I made him a lot more... mellow in it, which might seem a bit out of character, but I was thinking that it'd make sense, with him being older and having to deal with his brothers' deaths and his remorses.

There is brief mentions of the short stories The Painting's Ramblings and III. Boy Meets Girl.

Also, this takes place in 1106, so Georges is fourty and it is two years before his own death, and six years after Michel's death.

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The streets were pretty empty. There were a few middle-aged women here, some kids playing with a ball there, but otherwise, they seemed almost completely devoid of people. Devoid of sounds. Maybe it was because of the gray sky and the thick clouds that threatened to break down in a heavy rain at any seconds now. It certainly wasn’t a beautiful day at all; not a day anyone’d choose to randomly stroll the capital's streets. Yet, Georges had felt the need to go out now — felt it had to be today, otherwise he’d never do it.

It was a day where he didn't have much to do, anyway. Although, if he was being honest... he had been relatively free since more than a decade already. He still had some work as a painter, of course, but this had diminished with the years, and albeit the fact he was still officially the head of the Bollinger family, it had been a long time since he had actually bothered himself with any business related to it. Instead it was his wife, the beautiful Aimée and her eternal smile, who took care of it — and she had done so ever since they got married about eighteen years ago now. It had been a gradual thing. At first, she would only bring him drinks and give him some advices here and there; then when things started to get too hard or frustrating for him, she'd told him to go sleep and to leave it to her; and before he even knew it, Aimée had the entire control of their family's affairs. Obviously Georges had been reluctant about this at the beginning — he had tried more than once to get things back in his hands, but every time Aimée would assure him that everything was perfectly fine, that she could absolutely handle all of that by herself. And, well, to say the truth... she was right.

Georges may not be the kingdom's brightest person, but he still could easily see how extremely intelligent and clever his wife was. Never had the Bollinger family been as rich and influent than now under her leadership. She was more than capable to be in charge of everything; be it finances, politics or otherwise — Georges would even say she seemed to have been born for that. She was infinitely more skilled and smart than he could ever hope to be — infinitely more than even his father or grandfather had been in her place before her. She had a gift to rule and manipulate people, and if he was being honest, it was a little scary. The only thing holding her back was her gender — and Georges could only imagine how much more terrifying she would have been had she been born a man.

So, after a while he ended up letting her do as she pleased — even if it wasn't actually to the taste of everyone. Although he was technically the face of the Bollinger household, nearly all of the nobility was aware of who was truly pulling the strings, and a lot of them didn't like that. That was only to be expected — a man leaving all of the truly important work to his wife was unthinkable, outrageous. People openly looked down on them sometimes. Georges couldn't even remember the number of inappropriate remarks Aimée had gotten, both subtly and unsubtly telling her she would be better off at home taking care of their children. But Aimée never seemed to mind it — she only smiled politely, and continued to do as usual as if nothing happened.

Georges didn't care much about the condescension either. He had never liked doing all of those boring and annoying family business — always thought Dee would have been a better head for the house, or hell, even Michel. He'd rather concentrate on his one true passion: painting. Which was exactly what he had done for the last twenty years or so. Even if truthfully, painting had actually taken a back seat in the order of his priorities since the birth of his two sons, Séverin and Dieudonné.

Georges had never imagined himself as a father. He always thought the task to be way too hard — here again, both of his brothers would've been much better dads than him. But the day his first boy was born, it had been as if his entire world had been turned upside down. Suddenly, all of his prime concerns became completely dedicated to his children's lives — about what was their needs, their education, their tastes and hobbies.

The day Dieudonné, only three years old, had excitedly showed him his first ever painting — an abstract landscape with all the colors of the rainbow — Georges didn't think he'd ever felt as happy and proud in his entire life, and he had actually started bawling right on the spot while his tiny son had just stared at him curiously.

The boys both had pretty differing personalities — the oldest, Séverin, was a tough adventurous little guy — he loved spending most of his time outside, with a soft spot for animals, and was an outstanding equestrian, despite being only seventeen. The other one, Dieudonné, was one year younger than his brother and had a more gentle personality — while he also loved playing outside, he had taken more after his father, being instead more interested in art. The two of them were pretty close — Georges had made sure that no matter what might happen between them, they always knew they had each other's back. Made sure that they don't make the same mistakes he had made with his own brothers.

In general he spent a lot of time with his kids — maybe it was, in a way, to really set him apart from his own father, who had always been extremely distant and too taken by work to allow himself a lot of time with his children. Aimée wasn't really fond of this, however — she had told him in mutiple occasions that she thought he spoiled them too much, that he was too easy on them — but Georges would honestly rather be close to his sons and "spoils them too much" than the opposite. Even if, lately, he had... some sort of tension with Sév. The boy had started to be quite rebellious and to spend more time with his mother rather than him. Georges wasn't very worried about this, though; he missed his son and the time where he had no difficulty getting along with him sometimes, yes, but he just thought it was something normal. Sév was a young man who was just on the cusp of adulthood, so there was nothing odd about him wanting to get away from his dad.

Georges sighed, his eyes surveying his surroundings. The more he walked through the shopping streets of Paris, the more the sky seemed to get grayer. He honestly worried that at this point it was going to rain soon. He hoped he'd be able to find what he was looking for before, though. Or rather, to find the people he was looking for. He was aware he actually had very little chance to find them — hell, for all he knew they could have moved out of the city a long time ago. From what he had heard, they did have money troubles, after all.

Still, he wanted to talk to them no matter what, so he continued to do his best searching by asking around, talking to all the shopkeepers he saw. He didn't have much chance, until he found an old man with a rough face and two small eyes as gray as the sky.

"Um, hi," Georges greeted him. "Is that okay if I ask you some questions?"

The man first eyed him strangely — probably because of his expansive-looking clothes, which wasn't really something the people here could afford. Georges grinned at him.

"I'm sorry to bother you," he continued. "But do you know if a merchant family lives around here?"

"You'll have to be a bit more precise, my good sir, 'cause that's kind of almost half the families from the area."

Right. It was a shopping street, after all, so of course. "Yeah, um. I think they used to be a family of three ladies: a mother and her two children. One of the daughters was named Giselle."

As soon as Georges pronounced that name, the man's eyes brightened. "Ahh! Are you talking 'bout Margot's daughter?"

"Uh... maybe?"

"That's the only family that fit I can think of. Margot's husband died from a plague almost thirty years ago now, so she raised her two girls alone. She never remarried. The youngest's name was indeed Giselle."

"Oh. Then that must be them, yeah."

"I remember her well, Giselle. A sweet girl, always peppy and smiling. A shame, what happened to her."

Georges raised an eyebrow. "May I ask what happened to her?"

"What? Ya don't know?" The man asked, then scratched his head. "Well, one day she started working for some noble's house and... disappeared. There was a lot of... unsavory rumors about her that spread around a while after that... To tell you the truth, it's a bit unclear what happened to her exactly... Some say she was killed, other that she ran away. In any case, she just never came back home."

As Georges had expected, the man didn't give him much more information than what he already knew, but he still thought it had been worth trying.

"Her mom and big sis live over there, two streets below in a small house," the man said while gesturing to the left. "It's just the two of them ever since Giselle's gone."

He crossed his arms and sighed. "The eldest was supposed to marry some rich guy at one point, but in the end the wedding was cancelled. They both loved each other, but she was just a poor merchant lass and didn't have enough money for the marriage to go through... and with the rumors about her sister... Sad story, really."

"I... see," Georges simply said, as he wasn't sure what to answer to that. "Well then, thanks. Good bye."

He waved at the man, then turned around and started walking again, following the instructions he had been given. He made his way through the city's streets, eyeing the rare passerbys and the modest houses with a kind of nostalgia. It had been a while since he had just strolled through Paris like that — especially since he had stopped taking as much work as before. And even then, the people who commissioned him were mostly just nobles or rich bourgeois, so he very rarely adventured himself in the poorer districts. This part of town was far from being the slums — but it was still a lot less wealthy than what he was usually accustomed to.

In fact, he thought that the last time he came around here was... that afternoon when he was still just a teen and where he had taken Michel outside dressed like a boy, without telling it to anyone, not even to Dee. Georges vividly remembered that day because of the heart attack he almost had when he lost Michel for a few hours. Now that he thought about it, that had been... probably the only time where Michel had went into the city like that, as their mother always refused to let him out of the house. The only other time he had been outside after that was for... going to that mansion. Even though there had been so many other things Georges had wished to show him...

But this peculiar trail of thought tended to send him spiralling into interminable sadness and self-hatred, so he decided to stop thinking about his brother altogether for now.

As he kept walking, the road became more and more narrow, until finally, he managed to reach a house that fitted the description he had been given. Just like the man had told him, it was a small, humble house — not old or decrepit or anything, but certainly far from being a wealthy residence. He thought it looked a little bit cramped to live here for what had initially been a family of four... even though they had only been two for a few years now.

Lost in thoughts, it took him some times to notice he wasn't actually alone here and that there was another presence not far.

A woman was on the porch. She seemed to be at least a decade younger than him — in her early thirties, probably. She had long, wavy black hair tied in a pony tail. She was currently extending the laundry on a small drying rack, plunging in and out of the basket in rhythmic, meticulous movements. Although Georges was only a few meters away from her, she didn't seem to have remarked him at all, being instead too focused on the wet clothes.

Georges watched her for a moment silently. He knew that he should try to talk to her... but he was hesitating.

The reason he was here in front of a strangers' house was because of something that had happened a few months ago. He was with Sév, helping him out with his studies, until he decided to go search an old mathematics book that was in his former father's room to teach his son something. After Antonin's death, Aimée had been the one to take care of his belongings, and she had almost thrown and given away everything. Her cold attitude regarding this had surprised Georges, as she had always seemed close to the head of the Bollinger family. He and Dee had still managed to save a few things, and since then Antonin's room have been left empty, pretty much abandonned. It was only used to stock some things from time to time.

When Georges entered in the dim and dusty bedroom, he started to tamper with his dad's things unceremoniously and inadvertently made an ancient stack of papers fell on the floor. All while swearing, he gathered the pages... and then one of them caught his eyes. It was... a sort of old official document, describing the firing of some maid who had worked for their family because of a mistake she had made. She had been exiled to a mansion to expiate said fault... This didn't interested Georges in the slightest, until he noticed which mansion this maid had been send off to.

It was the same place where Michel himself had been exiled.

A chill ran through Georges' back as he intently continued to read the document. The maid's name was Giselle, and she was a young woman who came from a relatively poor merchant family — unusual thing, as normally the maids working for their family were abigails who themselves came from pretty well-off households. Why would their family employ some run-of-the-mill town lady? There was something off about all of this, but as Georges kept reading, suddenly he remembered.

He didn't think he had ever actually met in person this woman, but he certainly had heard her name a few times before. It had been about seven years ago, maybe — some sort of scandal had blow up within their family. Their father apparently had an affair with a maid. This had been kind of a shock to Georges at the time — even if, retrospectively, it shouldn't have. His parents' relationship had degenerated more and more over the years, until they almost didn't even talk to each other — things having been made even worse with Lydie's illness eating away at her. Rumors of the maid having seduced the head of the Bollinger house while seeking his richesses and status spread around, and so the woman was quickly condemned for adultery — but then Antonin intervened. Instead, she was just sent into exile, at the same mansion were Michel lived — though, of course, that had been something their father ignored.

Georges recalled Dee panicked a little upon learning this, and in the end he told him he had secretly sent a letter to the young woman so that she'd take care of Michel as his servant. And then, none of them heard any more about it — that was, of course, until Antonin died, and that... Michel was sentenced to death. Which Georges only heard all about after everything had been settled. He had learnt about the letter Michel had sent to their mother, the assault on the mansion and finally his brother's death only afterwards.

He hadn't even been able to read that letter — the last letter his little brother had written — until a long, long time after Dee's death. Because everything... was just too painful. He still had it now; carefully folded in a small box in his room, that not even Aimée or his sons had the right to touch. And he had memorized every word drafted on it — Michel's determined claim of his identity, his demand of being accepted as such by them... and him announcing that he was in love with a woman.

He hadn't mentioned the name or any more detail about his beloved, but there was only one woman who Michel could have fallen for — the only other human being who had been sent in exile with him. So it wasn't a stretch to assume that this maid Giselle... had been the one he was talking about.

Georges now remembered the smile that had unconsciously sprout on his face upon reading this, and then the overwhelming sorrow that had followed. His little bro being in love should have been something special; something worth celebrating — and in normal circumstances, Georges would have definitely spent days teasing Michel about it and would have done and said things pretty embarrassing to him. But when he finally read that letter, Michel had already been dead since a long time ago. So instead the only emotions left in him were sadness and guilt. His thoughts then had been full of conflicted feelings and mostly about his brothers, thus that maid had completely faded from Georges' grieving mind.

He didn't think Dee said anything about a woman when he attacked the old mansion with the other knights. He didn't say much about anything, actually — which, given how Georges kept hurling insults at him and practically jumped at his throat, wasn't surprising. But, then...

What had happened to her? Did she ran away somehow? Did she came back home, to the capital? Or did she die there in the mansion with Michel?

For some reason, these questions wouldn't leave Georges' mind. He kept obsessing over this woman — his brother's lover, the last person who had been at his side before his death. So, he decided to make some research about her. He asked the old servants of the house, and when he questioned the head maid who had served them for about ten years now, she grimaced. Manifestly, this wasn't a story she looked back on fondly. Still, she told him what she recalled of this Giselle — about how she was an upbeat and hardworker person, albeit being inexperienced and a bit clumsy. She didn't know what happened to her after her departure, but in any case, it seemed she never came back to Paris. She mentioned that her family kept harrassing the Bollinger house for months afterwards, wanting to know what had happened to Giselle, and they were only given the explanation that she had been exiled for a mistake she made. Although Antonin kept sending some money to her family even after her exile — maybe out of guilt. But they ended up refusing and cut off all ties to the Bollingers, so he still stopped shortly after.

In other words, there was no concrete answers to what had happened to her. It was as if... she had just vanished. Stopped existing. It was kind of a scary thought. But the more Georges learnt about her, the more he wanted to know. He didn't know why exactly he was drawn to her like that. Maybe it was because... he felt that if he could know more about this woman, maybe he could know more about Michel. Maybe he could know more about the life of the brother he neglected for more than ten years.

A part of him thought that he shouldn't do that. That he didn't even had that right.

You abandonned him. You did that to him.

But his curiosity was stronger than that.

And it was how, in this ugly day, he had decided to survey the shopping streets of Paris in search of this mysterious young woman's family. However, he hadn't been able to find much about them; only that they were composed of her mother and older sister, and that they were merchants.

Now, against all odds, he had actually managed to do it. He had been able to find the house of his brother's beloved. And now, what? What was he supposed to do? Talk to the woman on the porch? How? To be honest, he hadn't actually thought that far ahead. He started thinking this had been a bad idea, that he should get back home — but at this moment, the lady raised her head.

As she did, two bright, beautiful jade eyes pierced him.

"Hello?" She said hesitantly.

She was obviously very perplexed by this unknown man who had been staring at her from afar quietly. The last thing Georges wanted was for her to think he was a creep, so he hurried to grin in the most friendly way he could.

"Uh, hi!" He greeted her while scratching his head. "Hey, um, sorry to bother you. I'm Georges."

The woman — who he guessed was probably Giselle's big sister — cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Okay...?"

"Uh, right. Don't worry, I'm not a bad guy or anything."

"Sounds like something a bad guy would say," she replied without missing a beat.

"I-I'm really not! I just wanted to know... are you, uh, the daughter of a merchant lady named Margot...?"

She still looked intensely dubious and on the fence, but nodded despite it. "Yeah, Margot's my mother's name. What is this all about, Georges?"

"Well... uh..."

Georges sighed. What was that all about? That was a good question. To be honest, he wasn't sure himself. What did he expect to see, coming here? What did he expect to learn? Did he think knowing more about that maid would... give him some closure regarding Michel? Regarding Dee? After all these years, all these mistakes?

How ridiculous. Then again, him being an idiot wasn't something new.

The woman's frown in front of him deepened the more he stayed silent, so he finally started talking again while giving her an awkward smile. "I, um... it's gonna sound a bit weird, maybe, but... I am here because I wanted... needed to know more about someone. Someone... you used to know."

After hearing this, her expression kind of softened and she looked a little less hostile — instead, there was a clear curiosity and surprise shining in her green eyes. She was a really beautiful lady. Georges wondered how much her sister had looked like her. Did she have black hair too? The same pretty emerald eyes? Unfortunately, he doubted he would ever be able to answer these questions.

"Someone I knew?"

"About... seven years ago, I think, there was a young woman who worked as a maid where I live," he continued. "Her name was Giselle."

This time again, the woman's expression changed. But it was a way more radical change — her entire body tensed up visibly, her face lost its colors and her eyes widened.

"How do you know my sister's name?" She exclaimed.

"So she really was your little sister?"

"Of course she was! Th-That's not the point, how do you— Oh, wait... you said she worked as a maid to your place... No way... could it be you're from the Bollinger family?"

She almost spat the name with disgust, and Georges felt a disagreeable feeling engulf him. She was clearly angry — and so for a moment, he thought about denying it. Denying his identity, throwing away his name, running away from this angry, hurt woman who glared at him, getting as far away as he could from Aimée, from his house full of bad memories, from his dead brothers, from the guilt and the self-hatred, from his entire past and life as Georges Bollinger—

But as he continued to stare at the person in front of him, he felt as if her jade eyes pinned him on the spot and gave him no escape.

"I... am," he finally admitted.

It was obvious Giselle's sister already knew the answer before he even said it, but her face still contorted in cold rage.

"I have nothing to say to you," she said in such an icy tone that it sent shivers in Georges' back. "Go away."

She turned around, highlighting her message, and while Georges maybe kind of understood her reaction, he just... couldn't let it end at that.

"W-Wait a minute, please!" He said, grabbing her arm, but the woman brusquely released herself from his grip and glared at him once again.

"Don't you dare to touch me! I don't have to spare a single second for you."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to touch you," Georges apologized, and he meant it — he always had a tendency to act before thinking. "I just— I just want to talk with you. I won't take a lot of your time, I promise, just a few minutes—"

"Do you not understand what "no" means? I'm a busy woman, and I don't want to associate with you or your family in any shape or form anymore. So scram!"

"I... understand that... But please, at least hear me out first."

The woman's face became red with rage. Her eyes were not only angry now, they were outright hateful, and Georges honestly thought she was going to slap him. It wouldn't have been the first time he got slapped. Or punched. Albeit generally, Dee always interfered before things get too bad, even if he really didn't want to.

Dee wasn't here to save his ass anymore, though.

"I can't believe the gall you have!" She screamed. "Do you realize what you're asking me? You said you weren't a "bad guy," but you randomly show up at my house, want to force me to talk about my sister who disappeared years ago, and for whose disappearance your family is directly responsible! The Bollinger family is the one who took Giselle away from us, so if anything, you should tell us about her! So no, you have no right to ask anything from me, or even to put a single foot into our house!"

Georges felt frozen in place. Her words resonated in his mind, stuck in his brain. None of them were wrong, he knew that. They certainly were the ones who had exiled that maid because of a "mistake," and then made her "disappear" because Michel became inconvenient to them. Although her sister probably didn't know the last part, it wasn't wrong of her to assume the Bollingers were the cause of Giselle's misfortune...

“Clémence? Is everything all right?”

Suddenly, a voice called out from inside the house. Giselle's sister — "Clémence," it seemed — winced, then turned around to exclaim: “Yeah, it’s fine, Mom! Don’t worry!”

She then sighed, glared once more at Georges, and started talking again, this time in a quieter tone in order to not alarm her mother inside. "Now leave. Mom's old and she has a poor health, so the last thing I want is for some fool to stress her out."

Georges stared at her silently. He knew he should listen to her, that he should go. He knew that his family had irremediably hurt these people. That because of them that person had lost a sister. The words of the man he had met earlier came back to his mind, and he realized that she had also probably lost her fiancé too because of all of this. So he was aware that even if he never actually hurt them directly, or never even intended to hurt this woman or her family — the only fact of him being involved with the Bollinger house made him guilty by association.

But, even so...

"I'm sorry," he said.

Clémence blinked, incredulous. "What?"

"I'm sorry... for what my family did to you. For what... we did to your sister."

"And you think some half-assed apologies will make anything better?"

He chuckled lightly. "No, of course not... I know I can't do much to repair the wrong that has been done to you... I can't give you back your sister... but I... still wanted to apologize."

He paused. He didn't really know what he was saying, honestly; he just tried to bare his heart to her as much as he could.

"I had... a younger sibling too. And I made... a lot of mistakes, and did a lot of hurtful things to him... but I was never able to apologize to him for that..." He swallowed loudly. "Nor will I ever be able to."

Clémence looked at him. She was still wary and angry, but looked a bit calmer now.

"So... I'm not saying you have to forgive me or my family... I wasn't expecting it. I just... wanted to apologize. Sincerely."

She kept staring at him in the eyes, her expression unreadable. The cowardly part of me him wanted to look away, but he couldn't bring himself to. It would have felt... rude. Then finally, after some time, Clémence sighed and ran a hand in her black hair.

"They didn't even told us anything."

"Huh...?"

"When Gigi... got exiled. No one came to tell us anything." She snorted. "I guess some lowly merchants like us don't even register in rich nobles' minds, so why would they even bother?"

The resentment in her voice was palpable — and it hurts. She obviously didn't seem to want to tell him all of that, but she kept on talking anyway.

"When she began to work there, we already barely heard from her at all. But she was supposed to come see us during winter towards the end of the year. So when she didn't show up... we got really worried. I came all on my own at your house, and I almost had to fight for anyone to give me any answers as to what happened... and then finally a servant came to me. And you know what he told me?"

Georges didn't, but he could easily guess. Because he had heard all of the rumors that had been propagated about Giselle back then, even if he had paid no mind to it.

"That my sister was a "greedy whore" who "seduced" the head of the family. That she had been "rightly punished" and sent away in a place far away to atone for her "sins"."

She glared at him yet again so fiercely it was as if she was looking at that servant who had told her those things.

"What a load of bullshit! Gigi would have never done something like that. She was such a stupid airhead, never on earth she would've been able to "seduce" anyone! And the guy was going on and on about how he couldn't even tell me where she had been sent, or how I should just be happy that she was even alive at all!"

She was starting to get very worked up, and realizing this, she stopped for a moment, plunged her face in her hands and took a deep breath.

"Mom and I couldn't just leave it at that, though. So we kept coming there every time we could, asking for more answers. But every time we were just met by the same rubbish. Until one day..." Her voice trailed. "One day, about a year later, another guy came to me saying that, apparently, my sister had just... disappeared from the place she had been sent. That she would never come back anymore."

She laughed out loud. "Ridiculous, right? They were the ones who exiled Gigi, and yet they had lost trace of her somehow? They had— lost her? Don't make me laugh!"

Georges recalled the head maid mentioning something like that to him. However, he himself had never heard about merchant women going to visit the household frequently before... Though he guessed that maybe Aimée knew, and that she had just judged it unimportant to tell him, as she so often did...

“Do you know what it’s like?” Clémence asked bitterly. “To have a sister who just… just suddenly disappear? Not dead, not runaway, just… disappear. Gone. Without any explanation.”

He felt his throat tighten even more. He had the reflex to want to reply he knew, actually — that he knew what it was like to lose a sibling. To have a younger brother disappear on him — and an older one too. But he also knew that his situation and Clémence’s were radically different, and he had no right to compare his to hers.

She never actually let her little sister rot locked up in a room for two whole years. She never exiled her all alone in a mansion and then just forgets about her for a decade.

She never indirectly (killed her) caused her death.

“I’ve always known Gigi shouldn’t have gone work there.”

“What?”

“To your freaking household. I knew there was something shady about it. I just felt it,” she said. “I mean, who would propose a job as an abigail to some poor merchant’s daughter? It never made sense. Mom and I were against it at first. But Gigi, she… she was so enthusiastic about it. She kept repeating that it was an ‘once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’ That ‘with the money she’ll make there, she’ll solve all of our problems’…”

She snorted. “‘Solve all of our problems,’ my ass. She was such an idiot…”

Clémence sniffled and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Despite her harsh words, there was no anger in them, only… sadness. Maybe a bit of resentment, but it was decidedly not aimed at her sister.

In fact, she seemed almost about to cry.

"So, yeah," she continued. "If you ask me if I forgive you, then no, I don't. And I don't care much about your apologies, either. You can keep them."

Georges looked at her sadly. He had already guessed as much already. He realized now that this attempt at genuine apology had problably come off as incredibly self-centered from her persepctive, even though it had never been his intention at all. Georges always ended up hurting others without meaning to, even now that he was a middle-aged man, it seemed...

"Clém, what on earth is taking you so long? Oh..."

Finally, another woman appeared on the porch — the mother, Margot, Georges guessed. She was a small, plump lady who was clearly a lot older; her round face smeared with wrinkles and the few black locks that escaped from under her headscarf had some obvious silver streaks, but otherwise her eyes were of the exact same beautiful jade shade as her daughter’s.

Clémence bit her lower lip and looked annoyed — she manifestly had not wished for her mother to see Georges.

"Oh my... Who is this man, Clém?"

"No one. Just some lost guy. He was going to leave," she said, while glaring at Georges and making him very much understand that his presence was not wanted anymore. "Right now."

And Georges had no intention to protest anymore. He didn't know if he had gotten what he wanted. Probably not. But he felt like if he stayed any longer, it would only add salt to the wound. However, just as he was about to turn around, a hand grabbed his arm.

"Wait a minute, please," Margot said, at the surprise of both Georges and her daughter. "I cannot just let you leave like that... Who are you?"

Georges felt stuck. He threw a desperate look at Clémence, who instantly put a gentle hand on her mother's shoulder.

"I told you, Mom, it's no one. He was just lost."

"Clémence, please. I may not be all that young anymore, but I am not senile either. You've been talking with this man for a moment now, so he can't just be someone asking for his way."

Clémence sighed, understanding that she wouldn't be able to get her way out of this. The older woman looked at Georges and smiled sweetly — and she looked so adorable and charming that he was sure she was the kind of person who could win anyone's trust.

"I'm sorry if my daughter said anything rude to you, she tends to have a bad character with strangers."

"Mom!" Clémence exclaimed, offended, but her mother paid her no mind.

"My name is Margot," she continued in a warm voice. "And you are?"

"I..." Georges looked over at Clémence, as if he was waiting for some kind of permission. But she said nothing, only looking away in annoyance, so he had no other choice. "I am Georges Bollinger."

Margot didn't seem surprised or upset at all upon hearing his name. Maybe she had already overheard them talking before — which wouldn't be surprising given how loud they had argued up until now. But he was still nonplussed that not even her friendly smile seemed unfazed — it was especially jarring considering Clémence's extremely hostile attitude.

"Oh my, is that so," she simply said instead. "I am honored to receive the visit of such a noble person. That is very unusual."

Georges grinned back at her, as her smile was contagious, but in a more reserved way. He wondered if maybe she was being sarcastic, but there didn't seem to have any trace of bad faith in her words.

"So what could bring you here, Lord Bollinger?"

"That's, um..." Yet again, Georges looked at Clémence for some assistance on how to answer, but the woman seemed utterly determined to not helping him out at all.

"I was... I just wanted... to know a bit more about... one of the maids that worked for us some years ago..."

Finally, Margot's smile slipped away from her face and a more complicated expression formed in its stead.

"About Giselle...?"

Her face was painful to look at. She didn't seem... sad, per se. More like wistful. Nostalgic. But something in her green eyes was just hard to watch — it was the eyes of someone who had an old, horrible wound that had just been slowly reopened.

The eyes of a parent who had lost their child and tried to come to term with it, he realized.

This made Georges suddenly think about his boys. About Sév who loved animals so much and spent most of his time riding his favorite horse. About his little Dieudonné whose pale blue eyes shined like jewels whenever his dad would teach him about a new painting technique.

What if, one day… one of them were to get snatched away from him? If one of them were to die, or to just… disappear, like this young woman Giselle? To just vanish without any explanation?

The pain he felt at the idea was indescribable. If something like that were to truly happen, he didn’t think he'd be able to bear it. He loved his kids way too much — the simple fact of imagining them hurt was a sickening thought to him.

Never on earth would he be able to understand the awful way his parents had treated Michel.

Of course he didn’t understand it before either, but now that he was a parent himself, it was even less comprehensible. Yes, there were times where his kids could be annoying brats or act like true little demons, but even then Georges never had the impulse to do anything to cause them pain. How come someone could even imagine wanting to hurt their own child — want to kill them — was beyond him.

And he didn’t think anything could change that. Even if one of his sons were to suddenly tell him he wasn’t a boy, or that they were to do something truly atrocious like murder a person. He just couldn’t imagine stop loving them.

(Though, then again… he did hurt both of his brothers, even though he had never meant to…)

And yet, this was something that had happened to this woman. Seven years ago, her child had been snatched away from her without she had a say in the matter, and she didn't even know what had happened to her. If she was even still alive or dead. The more he looked at her, the more he felt an overwhelming guilt opress him, and the more he felt angry at his father. At himself, too, for never even having heard or dared to learn about this whole ordeal concerning that maid.

Margot's face was hard to look at for all sorts of reasons — but on the other hand, she didn't seem to have any troubles looking at him, as she kept on staring straight into his eyes with an odd persistence — as if she was trying to see something in there Georges didn't know existed. After some time, though, she turned around towards her daughter and smiled gently at her.

"Clémence, honey," she said in a sweet voice. "Could you please give us some moments alone? I'd like to talk a little with Lord Bollinger."

"What?" Clémence almost screamed, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Why would you talk to him?"

"Well, he said he wanted to learn more about Gigi, so I want to tell him about her," her mother answered innocently.

"Mom! He is from the Bollinger family!"

"I am aware."

"And you— you...!"

Georges thought for a minute Clémence was going to punch a wall in frustration — but instead, she just stomped her feet on the floor.

"Sure! Why not! Go talk to the asshole rich boy, whatever!" She yelled, before going inside her house and slamming the door behind her.

"Um," Georges muttered, uncomfortable. "I, uh..."

Margot turned toward Georges and smiled again. "I promise you she is not always like that. Usually she is a very sweet and bright lady, but she tends to get a bit defensive when her sister is concerned."

"I... I see..."

"Now, Lord Bollinger... Would you mind taking a little walk with me?"

Margot extended her hand towards Georges, all while smiling lovingly. Despite feeling a bit awkward and guilty, he still accepted it and offered her his arm.

________________________________________________________________

"Over here."

While elegantly holding his arm, Margot walked in a slow, tranquil pace, her steps soft but firm, and she brought Georges a few streets away from her house. They arrived at a large, clear square, where a small fountain flowed in the middle. It was a pretty ordinary, modest spot, and yet there was a kind of charming, cozy aura to it.

"I used to bring the girls here often when they were children," Margot continued. "I would sat on this bench, and watch them play around the fountain. They always ended up completely soaked at the end of the day!" She laughed softly. "And oh dear, there was even that one time where Clém completely pushed her sister into the basin. Gigi sulked and didn't talk to her for two weeks. It sure was something."

Georges didn't know what to say as the older woman reminisced the past, so he just silently listened to her. She went to sit on the bench she was talking about, and he imitated her.

"Tell me, Lord Bollinger..."

"You can just call me Georges," he instantly told her. He had never liked formality, even less being called "Lord."

Margot smiled. "All right then, Georges. Tell me... Do you have children?"

"Ah... yes, I do. I have two sons. Though... they're soon gonna be grown adults in very little time."

"Is that so... I've always thought being a parent was such a strange experience," Margot mused. "It makes your world suddenly revolve all around these tiny human beings. It's wonderful, but at the same time it can give you so much worry..."

Georges could absolutely relate to this. Becoming a father hadn't really changed his personality per say, but it had certainly shifted his entire life... For a moment, Margot stayed quiet, her gaze fixated on the small fountain. It seemed as if she was lost in her memories, when her daughters were still only young children, he supposed.

"When Hugues... my husband died, at first it was as if the entire world had died with him."

Her voice was suddenly at lot softer. She was almost whispering, but thankfully there was no other noise around and they were the only two people here, so Georges had no problem hearing her.

"My parents died when I was a teenager, and Hugues didn't have any family either, so after he passed away, there was only me. It's funny how when he was by my side, I had almost no anxiety at all as a mother, but as soon as I was left alone, it didn't feel like I'd be able to be a parent anymore. These girls were so young — only six and three years old — so how was I supposed to raise them on my own? How could I feed them and give them a roof over their heads? How could I protect these little girls against this world? It didn't seem feasible. But..."

She took a deep breath. "But then, I still remember it so vividly — that day Hugues died, I turned around and looked at them, and they were both here, standing and holding hands and watching me, and then I understood I wasn't actually alone. I was all they had now too, so I couldn't fail them. I had to manage something, somehow. So I worked as hard as I could, just so they could have a future. So they could live the life they wanted as best as they could."

Her gaze fell on her knees. Georges could only imagined how hard it must have been for a single mother to raise her two daughters alone. As someone who had been born into a rich and noble family and had been blessed his entire life, her situation seemed so far away from his own.

"But at some point, you know, these little girls started to grow up... and I had to realize and accept that it is impossible for me to protect them against everything. That I had to let go of them. This is something every parent have to do, right? It is normal. But even so..."

She swallowed. "Even so, it kills me to know I wasn't able to protect my own child. When I realized I would never see Giselle again... I felt like I had to go through what I lived with Hugues' death once more, but a lot worse. Because this time... it was this person I had raised on my own, that depended so much on me, that I had failed. It is so painful to come to term with the fact... that I wasn't able... to give her that happy life I so wanted her to have..."

Georges looked away, towards the fountain — which was a lot less harder to contemplate than the bereaved woman next to him. He couldn't do or say anything to console her, after all. He never even met the child she had lost. Didn't even knew about her until...

Suddenly, the letter Michel had sent to their mother just before his mansion was raided by the knigts came back to his mind. The last letter his brother had written. Georges still remembered the kind serenity that had emanated from it. Michel's writing had seemed as if... he was at peace with himself. A bit anxious, maybe. But nonetheless determined, sure of his own self, hopeful about his future. Of course, Georges hadn't been able to see him in person so he couldn't really confirm it, but while reading his words... he felt it was the first time he had felt his brother as open and comfortable with himself. And the principal change for that was probably...

The woman he loved he mentioned in the letter. Georges was only making assumptions here, of course; he couldn't assert all of this with certainty — hell, he couldn't even assert that the woman his brother mentioned loving was Giselle. But... it was what made the more sense, and what his heart was telling him too.

He looked over at Margot once again. She was still staring at the fountain, her eyes unfocused. He thought... that if her daughter had truly been Michel's lover before his death... then that it was something that he should tell her. Michel and everything surrounding him had become a taboo no one should mention in his house, and Aimée certainly wouldn't approve of him talking about it. He could still remember the stern talk she had given him when he had started talking to his sons about their late uncles in her presence. But Margot deserved to know — and honestly, at this very moment, he considered this older woman as a lot more important than his wife.

"Margot," he called her softly. "I need to confess something to you."

The woman raised her head and looked at him curiously. "Yes?"

"I... I had a brother," he began. "Heh, heh, well, I had two, actually. An older brother, and a little brother a lot younger than me. We were... kinda close, the three of us." His throat felt tight — but he still forced the words out of his mouth. "But, um... my little bro — Michel, his name was Michel — he was, uh... a bit special. Our parents didn't like that, and so because of this, when he was sixteen, we had to... send him away in a mansion."

Margot looked at him intently. She probably wondered why he was telling her all of this, and Georges couldn't really blame her for being perplexed.

"He lived here in exile for... about ten years," Georges continued.

"For ten years? All alone?" Margot inquired, a manifest concern in her voice.

"Yes," Georges admitted. "Well, that was, until seven years ago... when your daughter, Giselle, was also sent there."

"Ah... I see..." Margot brought a hand to her mouth. "So she had been sent to a mansion... They always refused to tell us where she was..."

"They... lived about a year together in that mansion. And... after our father's death, Michel sent us a letter... saying he wished to come back home. And that he..." Georges looked straight into Margot's eyes. "That he wanted to go home with his lover... a woman he had fell in love with."

Margot gasped upon hearing this, and her eyes widened. "Oh dear... You don't mean..."

"He never mentioned the woman's name, but... I do believe he was talking about your daughter, yes..." He stopped for a moment, hesitating, and after remebering the letter he finally added:

"And I do believe... he loved her dearly."

Maybe it was a bit presumptuous to say this as he had never seen the two of them with his own two eyes... but it was just his gut feeling. Margot didn't reply anything, she just stared at him with wide astonished eyes... and as much as he dreaded this, Georges choose to continue talking.

"However... like I said, Michel was... a bit different. Our mother considered him to be... an hindrance... so instead of accepting their return at the capital, they... we..."

Georges paused a moment, then took a deep breath.

"It was decided to send knights at the mansion to execute Michel."

This admission of the truth still hurts, even after all these years. Georges didn't think it'll ever stop hurting. He could be on his deathbed and still feel his heart ache whenever thinking about this.

Of course, he left Michel's gender issues out of the picture — he felt it would be rude to his brother to talk about it without his permission, and it wasn't a very important detail to mention in this very moment. He also choose to left out Dee's involvement in this — how he had actually been the one to kill Michel — for the same reason.

"I don't know... what happened to Giselle after that," Georges admitted. "According to... the knights who were there, they didn't find any women in the mansion... So maybe she escaped... but it seems more likely that she's also..."

He couldn't bring himself to end his sentence. Margot stayed a moment in silence. Georges wondered if maybe he shouldn't have said that after all, that maybe he had made her pain only worse...

Until he heard a soft laugh.

"Oh... Oh my, I see! So even in this situation... she still managed to find love..." She laughed again, but this time he heard a small hiccup at the same time. "Thank goodness!"

Georges felt lost. He was expecting her to be devastated at those news, but... instead, she seemed... relieved.

"Thank goodness...?" He repeated.

"I always..." Margot sniffled, some tears shining in the corner of her wrinkled eyes. "I always worried about what must've happened to Giselle after she was sent away from the Bollinger house... Wondering if she spent the rest of her life in pain... if she was being mistreated in some way... if she died all alone and miserable..."

She looked up at Georges. Despite the tears in her eyes, she was smiling.

"But you just told me she had a lover, right? If she was able to fall in love with someone, then that mean that even if she went through some hardships... she was still able to find joy. She was still able to find peace and be happy. This is..."

Margot closed her eyes, and brought her hands to her chest.

"This is a lot more than I could've asked for..."

Georges could sort of understand why she reacted this way. It must've indeed be a relief to learn that at least her daughter had been in love and happy at some point. But still, to him... something about this felt off. He didn't comprehend how she could still see all of this in such a positive light. He didn't comprehend why she seemed to have such a good time talking with him... despite him having indirectly caused so much damage to her and her family.

“I… don’t understand,” Georges admitted. “Are you not... angry at me? I just told you that Giselle... had likely been killed because of our family problems... and I am… I mean, I am from the Bollinger household…”

I am one of the people who took your daughter away from you, is what he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

Margot looked at him and smiled sadly. There was a natural, genuine kindness in her eyes, something so gentle that it could melt his heart.

He felt like crying.

“I do not have the energy to be angry anymore,” she simply answered. “Clém is angry; this is how she copes. I don’t know if one day she’ll stop being angry. But to me, anger would accomplish nothing. I am still hurt, of course. I am still so sorry about what happened to Giselle... and about what happened to your brother, too... I still miss my little girl every day. But…”

She stood up, and looked over at the fountain. As if drawn to her, Georges did the same unconsciously.

"Instead of being angry or mournful, I just want to spend the rest of my days thinking that at least my children had a happy life. And what you just told me about Giselle... that was what I'd hoped hearing for the last seven years."

Margot once again turned towards him... and tenderly, she cupped his cheek in her hand; her smile wide and fond.

"So thank you."

Georges was pretty sure he was going to cry now; but for some odd reason, no tears actually came. He didn't know what kind of expression he had at this moment, but Margot stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down into a hug.

So he gently returned her embrace in silence.

________________________________________________________________

When he came back home at the Bollinger house, it was late in the afternoon. The sky was just as gray as it had been when he had left; yet there was still no rain. After their weird awkward hug, Georges had escorted Margot back to her home. The woman kept talking about her girls, and she also asked some questions about Michel — Georges assumed she was very curious about what kind of man her youngest child had fallen in love with.

He got another glare from Clémence before leaving, but they didn't exchange any words. She was still very clearly defensive towards him, though Georges didn't blame her at all. He supposed Margot was going to relate to her what he had just told her, and he hoped this would at least bring her some closure. The old woman also insisted for him to come back visit them sometimes. Georges didn't know if he would — but a part of him had already decided he'd try to help them out a bit by giving them some money. He was pretty sure Clémence was going to refuse any money coming from the Bollingers, but he still felt the need to do something for them, or at least try to.

Upon entering his house, he was greeted by a few servants, but saw no traces of his wife or his sons. He had no idea where Aimée could be at this hour, but his kids were probably in their rooms — or at least Dieudonné was. And sure enough, the boy was there, crouched down on the floor with a myriad of colorful paint cans all around him.

"Oh, Dad! Welcome back!"

As soon as he saw his father, Dieudonné smiled and run up to him.

"Where were you?" The teenager continued. "You suddenly disappeared without telling anyone. I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to you!"

Georges grinned and ruffled his boy's hair. "Sorry about that, buddy. I'm fine, I was just out in town. Are you alone here? Where's Sév?"

"With Mother. As usual," Dieudonné said, shrugging.

"I see..."

It was pretty normal for Sév to rotated around his mother lately, so it wasn't surprising at all. But for some reason, this time that worried Georges a bit — though he quickly dismissed these thoughts.

His mind was full of way too many things to concern himself about this for now. He couldn't stop thinking about his brothers, about his parents, about all the mistakes he had made, about this maid he had never met and who he didn't even know the appearance of, about Clémence's bitter glare and Margot's sad, gentle words.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

Dieudonné softly tugged at his sleeve, tilting his head curiously. Georges looked at him. The tiny human being he had raised himself.

And then, just like Margot had done earlier, he wrapped his arms around his kid and hugged him tightly.

"Wow! Hey, what are you doing, Dad?"

The boy seemed startled at first, and tried to get himself out of the embrace. Dieudonné wasn't as repulsed by physical affection as Sév was, but he still was very much a teenage boy and thus was often embarrassed when Georges did things like that. However, he stopped struggling when he noticed his father's shoulders were shaking slightly.

"Dad...? Are you... Are you crying?"

Georges didn't answer anything — instead he just burried his head further in his son's neck. The tears that had threatened to roll during the entire afternoon finally escaped him now. His thoughts went to Michel. To Dee. To the two women he had just met today.

Then an odd thought crossed his mind. What would have happened if, back then, he had learned his mother's intention to kill Michel and had managed to stop Dee? If Michel had came back home with Giselle like intended?

He could have met her in person, he thought. Michel could have met his nephews. He could have married the woman he loved. That meant Georges could have met Clémence and Margot in actual happy circumstances. All of them could have been a family.

Or maybe things wouldn't have gone as well as this. Maybe there would have been other obstacles on the way.

But Georges would never knew, because his brother had died in that mansion and couldn't come back to life. Because his stupid mistakes had also indirectly caused the pain of an entire other family. Because there was no way to go back in time and fix this, because there was even no way for him to just apologize.

Because he had no other choice than to bear the weight of his own sins for the rest of his life.

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avidfanficwriter · 6 years ago

Text

The Other Sister (Chapter 1)

Characters: Steve Rogers(AU!) x OFC.

Summary: After five years of marriage, Steve Rogers finds himself questioning everything that his wife, Annabel has ever told him thanks to the impromptu visit by her troubled younger sister: Addison; whose existence he’s just learned about fives years prior. His only question now is: who verison is the truth? His loving wife? Or the troubled sister?

Ratings: M.

Warnings: Mentions/indications of depression, mentions of sexual abuse, indication of mental abuse, drug abuse, alcohol abuse. (Warnings will be updated as chapters come)

Authors Note: It’s not gonna be pretty. I’m sorry for the you know, skipping out on everyone and neglecting my blog. I’m better than that, you know that. I know that but I’m trying. Believe in me. :)

Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

There's a scene in dramatic movies that always seem to be shot in the same way, a simple setting, two people, one is nervous while the other is calm. The person who is lucky enough to be calm eventually notices the odd behaviors from the other and questions it. They're given a jaw-droppingly shocking statement. The kind that makes them choke on their drink or forget how to breathe. At first, they don't know how to react. It's a pot full of emotions, anger, sadness, annoyance or worst-case scenario disgust. They question how they are going to get over it or understand it.

That moment of being unclear how to continue is how Steve felt right now, only instead of just a flurry of emotions, there's a nauseous feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"-ay for a while." He doesn't have the faintest idea what his wife is saying now, after the first few words she spoke, he's blacked out the rest. It takes a few moments to gather himself, followed by another to convince himself he won't vomit. "One more time..." he asks.

His wife, Annabel Shaw-Rogers cocks her head at her husband. "I said Addison needs a place to stay for a while." He nods. "I told her no but she was insistent on it, something about doctors orders. She's probably just got out of rehab again. Once a junkie always a junkie." She trails off in annoyance.

All Steve can do is nod in response, he's chewing on his bottom lip trying to not scream. "The sister who was in and out of jail the last few years?"

"Uh-huh."

Another nod. "The sister who pops drugs like they're candy?"

"Uh-huh."

He clears his throat and rests his hands on the counter, staring at the wall ahead of him. "The one you don't hear from unless she needs something?"

Annabel chuckles and walks towards her husband of five years, she reaches out to him, wrapping her tanned arms around his waist. "Baby, I only have one sister. All of the horror stories you are about to ask are indeed about her." She takes a moment to rub a calming hand down his chest. "She's going to have to stay here if not, she'll never let that be the end of it." The sentence is ended with a loving kiss on his cheek and she leans into his body, trying to use her affection as an apology for the cards they have been dealt. For Steve, it'll take far more than a simple kiss and hug to rid the horrid taste in his mouth. She'll invade their privacy, ruin their home, invade the wholesome environment they have. Her drug-diseased handcuff ridden hands would be all over his home, infecting it. The air would be toxic, everything would have to be replaced, their home would need to be replaced.

A new home, new furniture, new clothes. He'd be out of money by this time next year.

If that wasn't bad enough, Addison Shaw was trouble with a capital T. The woman had trouble etched in her bones, her blood was filled with negativity. The only way to explain young Addison was everything bad that one person can do, Addison had done and then some. The two sisters were miles apart, Annabel was beautiful, sweet and brilliant while Addison was problematic, untrustworthy and downright awful.

They were cut from two different strands, good and bad. To Steve, part of it would have made sense if one of them was bad if their daddy had a criminal history or even mommy but both parents were normal, average. Met in college, fell madly in love. Their mother was a stay at home mom, dad was a banker. They stayed out of trouble, minded their business, went to church on Sundays and said their prayers before bed. They were loving parents to beautiful girls, Annabel, their oldest, his wife. A dirty blonde haired girl who had dreams of being a singer. Their youngest, Addison was a brunette with-how he remembers hearing their mother describe as-big beautiful hazel eyes with the tiniest hints of green. There were no hopes or dreams used to describe her, no happy or cute memories that followed after any mention of her. It was always just Addison and then silence.

The idea of Addison... staying there in his home, ruining the atmosphere. Forcing he and Annabel to live on edge to accommodate her. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. However, this was his wife, the love of his life. He couldn't say no if she had already said yes. She had to be dealing with far more issues than his own, this couldn't have been easy on her.

"How long?" He finally asks with a deep sigh.

It takes her a while to answer which scares him, "A few weeks." That's an arrow straight in his heart. He's already envisioning his gravestone, 'Steven Grant Rogers. Died from: sudden cardiac arrest brought on by wife's junkie sister.'

"Fine..." He says with another sigh. "But she doesn't stay in the house."

"Where are we going to put her, baby? The doghouse?"

Steve smiles. "If we had a doghouse, that wouldn't be nice enough for her."

Annabel agrees, pulling her arms from Steve. "Where then?"

"The guest house."

"It's not finished with the remodel."

"The kitchen is the only part left, the room, living room, and bathroom are done. She can survive with half a kitchen." He remarks.

"Just means she'll have to be here when she wants to eat."

Steve wanted to strangle her, probably the only time on this earth that he had the urge to do so. A day he could handle, maybe two but an unspecified amount of weeks was hell on earth. Hell, literary, as if they had taken a one-way ticket to the bottom of Satan's ass. "I'll get the contractor to finish the kitchen within the week, pay him double if I have too."

The contractor comes as planned and is less than happy about the sudden change, "In a week? My guys are gonna be workin' double time."

"I know, I get it. I'll pay you double-triple what you were getting. I just need this done by Monday." With a heavy sigh, the contractor agreed, apologizing ahead of time for the noise they would soon be faced with.

They had noise and he was having nightmares, a horrible combination. Steve was on the brink of losing his sanity and the worst had yet to come. The impending doom of Addison's arrival was rapidly approaching. Each time he closed his eyes, it was followed by a possible outcome of Addison living with them. In one, she burnt down the house another threw a rager when they went out to dinner and the worst was her overdosing in their kitchen. Her arrival was eating him up.

"Addison is aware we are gonna have rules?" Steve asks over dinner one night, over the sound power tools echoing through the home.

"I'm sure." Annabel nods, chewing her food and staring at her cell phone.

"Are we going to have to hide all the medicine?"

Annabel drags her eyes from her facebook feed to stare at Steve blankly. "I hadn't thought about that." She clears her throat. "Probably. She'll probably wind up overdosing on cold medicine." The tone of her voice is full of malice and humor.

It was crude place in time now that Steve found himself chuckling at the statement, instead of being overtaken with disgust. He always saw the best in people, believed that everyone deserves a second (Or more) chance. He extended olive branches, forgave the unforgivable, he was the embodiment of a good guy but times had changed. "You're okay with this, right?" Annabel asks in a small voice.

"Of course." He lies.

"Steve, are you really?"

He exhales deeply, "Baby, she's your sister."

"Only by blood." She remarks. "Trust me, If you could change your genetics, I would be first in line." There's not a hint of humor in her voice, she truly would. As depressing as it sounded, Annabel was ashamed to admit she had a sister almost as much as her parents were to say they had two daughters. He remembers taking Annabel on their first date, they talked about their families, there was never a hint that she had a sister. Annabel had spun a web that led him to believe she was an only child.

In fact, Annabel never spoke about her, nor did her parents; it was like she never existed. It wasn't until their wedding that Addison dropped the bombshell of having a sister that left Steve speechless. It was nearly the end of their romance. "You have a sister and you just what? Forget to tell me about her?" He shouted in anger, slamming the front door behind him as he stomped into their new house. "We've been together for three years! Are those even your actual parents or are you waiting to introduce me to the real ones in another three years?"

Annabel turned to face him, sighing and running a hand through her hair. "Steve, calm down." She pleads.

"Don't tell me to calm down, you've been lying to me for three years."

"I wasn't lying, I just didn't tell you about her."

He groans, "That's the same damn thing." He heads to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and quickly gulping it down. The only way he can think to calm his nerves is drinking alcohol also another way to keep his mouth busy instead of shouting.

"Listen, Steve..." He ignores the next thing out of her mouth, pleas spill from her red-tinted lips about their upcoming wedding, 'it's only a month away', 'we can't call it off now! What am I going to tell my parents?'. Excuse after excuse yet she avoids the topic at hand. Her sister, a sister that she never once spoke about. That her parents never spoke about. Their family album had no pictures of another child, the pictures littered through their home was void of this mystery sister.

"Why?" He asks, refusing to divulge into talk about their wedding, one mention of it and that would be all she'd focus on. He feels betrayed and used. He starts to question everything she's ever told him, even questions the validity of their relationship. "H-how.... how does someone lie about having a sibling?"

"It's complicated."

Steve's eyes go wide and he leans in, chuckling. "Complicated?" he questions, setting his beer down on the counter in front of him. "Hey, Steve, I have a sister. Yeah, her name is Mary, she's nineteen; lives in Alabama, don't see her much. How is that complicated?"

Annabel sets her purse down on the counter in front of Steve, sighing heavily. "Okay... I was going to tell you, I planned on telling you but it just... isn't easy." She closes her eyes and swallows deeply, he notices her hands, she's squeezing her fingers. "We don't talk about her."

"We?"

"My parents, me; my family." Annabel lets out a nervous chuckle, realizing for the first time in years, she's confessing what is suppose to be a lifelong secret. "Her name is Addison and she's twenty-seven years old and... I don't know where she's living, I ran into her in Miami on the girls trip a few months back but I don't know where she's at right now, I haven't since she was sixteen."

It's even worse than Steve expected, however, he's not entirely sure what he expected. "What do you mean since she was sixteen? If she's twenty-seven now that means you're only two years apart." Annabel nods, ashamed. "What does that even mean?"

Annabel can hardly stand the look of confusion on her husband's face. There's no stopping now, she had to continue for both of their sakes. "You need to understand she put my parents through hell. She was horrible, a bad kid, beyond bad. She did drugs, threw parties, refused to go to school; refused to come home, drank. Anything she could do, she did. My parents tried, I tried. They sent to her to my uncles to try and help her but she nearly burned his house down." It's as if a weight has lifted off her chest, the lie that she had forced herself to believe is finally free. "She was unfixable. Getting worse as the days went by."

"And you just gave up on her?" Steve questions in an angered tone. "She was a kid!"

"No, we didn't!" She raises her voice, getting insulted by the accusation. "My parents tried like hell but it never worked. She never let it and they couldn't do it anymore, my dad was on the verge of losing his job, mom was having a mental breakdown. One day, my dad had enough he threatened her if she continued, he'd make her leave. She didn't change. The next day, she came home high and he packed her a bag and kicked her out. Called friends and family told them to not let her in."

"How old was she?"

"Sixteen."

"Six-Sixteen? She was sixteen years old?" He questions in shock. "Your father kicked your sixteen-year-old sister out of the house with nowhere to go?" The thought is unimaginable to him, an innocent child out alone in the world, battling the street of California with no one to help her. It made him sick, he could barely look at her.

"It sounds bad, I know."

He nods, chuckling being the only thing he can do that doesn't wind up with them ending their engagement. "I don't think you do."

"I wanted her to come back, I looked for her but I couldn't find her."

It's a lie or a comedy skit, it has to be. It doesn't seem plausible. He's met her parents, her fathers is the sweetest guy in the world, her mother loves with all of her heart. The first time he met her, she demanded a hug and that he comes over every holiday, birthday and Sunday for dinner. The idea that they, everyone's dream parents had kicked a child out of their home. "So, you guys just what? Woke up a few days later and said we only have one daughter. Gee, what a nice day?"

Annabel cocks her head in annoyance, "No, One month of her being gone, turned into three and then it was a year and before we knew it life was so much easier without her around. My parents weren't fighting, I wasn't missing school because of something she did. We didn't have any police around the house, it was just simple. Normal. A happy family." She finally sits down on the bar stool, feeling exhausted. "Eventually we realized anytime we talked about her, my mother got sad and my father was angered. People didn't understand it either when we said what happened and we found it easier to not talk about her. We just pretended she didn't exist."

Steve doesn't understand, he can't even begin to understand. If he had a child, he couldn't imagine turning on them. Casting them out with all dangers in the world that they could succumb to. No matter how horrible they were, he'd never give up on them. He couldn't. It wasn't in his blood. "You never heard from her until a few months ago?"

Annabel nods her head, brushing her hair behind her ear before she begins. Another jog down memory lane that breaks his heart even more.

It was a few years later before her name was spoken again in the Shaw household, they had a phone call in the middle of the night from a detective in Texas, Addy; It softens his heart just for a second when Annabel uses her nickname, it shows she still cares somewhere in there. Addison was found in a cheap, rat and drug infested motel unconscious with signs of sexual assault. It had taken her three days to finally talk to police and another three for her to confess her first name. it was luck or a miracle that they discovered her purse trashed in an alley.

"Do you know how late is it?" Her father, Gregory had shouted into the phone. His voice rough and full of sleep.

"Sir, I apologize for the disruption. This is Detective Amanda White from the Austin Police department, sir, I'm afraid I have some bad news. We've found your daughter, Addison Shaw."

The detective went on to confess the details of the case, Addison refused to talk, claimed it was a misunderstanding. An accident, she fell while getting dressed but all evidence said otherwise. They had found the doer but she refused to press charges and point the finger at him. He shrugged and simply told her, "I only have one daughter." In his mind, Addison had made her bed and whatever path she was on, was her own doing. After that, anything that reminded them of her was gone, pictures, drawings, baby boxes. She was merely a blip in their past. As far as anyone in their lives would know, the Shaw's had one daughter, Annabel.

"My dad didn't care," Annabel says with a look of pain. "my mom nearly died but she would have followed my father to the ends of the earth without second-guessing when he said never mention her, we didn't."

Annabel goes on about running into her baby sister in Miami on her girl trip. Her last trip as an unmarried woman, the last hurrah. It was the hotel she was staying in that she found Addison. Not recognizing her at first, it had been so long since she'd seen her that time had corroded her image.

"Addison?" She questions on a whim to the young girl with brown hair tied in a ponytail and dressed in a hotel uniform. "Addy?" It was her, beyond all belief. Their eyes met and Addison was a deer in headlights. It was an awkward reintroduction, two sisters split by time, coming face to face.

"I'm getting married!" Annabel shouted midway through the conversation, her happiness leaking through. "I want you to be there." The words came out before she had a second to rethink her sentence.

Addison said nothing in response. It was a brief silence and a deep sigh before she answered, in a distant voice with cold eyes. "I hope you have a good wedding."

"No, Addy, I want you there. It's my wedding day and I want my family there, all of my family." Her sister is still silent, staring at her like she's never met her. Which is nearly the truth, they didn't know one another. Other than their names, they were strangers. It had taken some convincing before Addison had responded with, "If time works out, maybe I'll think about coming." Annabel left her phone number with her, asking her one last time before she left "Just come, okay? It'll be fun." She didn't think it would work but this morning when she woke up, there a text message from an unknown phone number that simply read. "When is the wedding again? And where? -Addison." She texted back immediately, eyes still blurred from sleeping and another text arrived a few hours later. "I can come if you still want me too," Annabel responded by sending her the ticket details and saying she couldn't wait to see her again.

"So, she's coming to our wedding?" Steve finally questions, rubbing his eyes and wishing he'd bought more beer.

"Yes."

"And what do your parents think?" He asks.

"I haven't told them and I'm not going to."

"Anna..."

"Steve, it's my day, if I want to invite my sister that is my choice."

"Fine." He agrees, walking around to the counter to engulf her in his arms. The good guy inside of him begins to think it could be the best thing to happen. The family could mend, forget about the past and begin again, Something good could come from their wedding. "This could be a fresh start. A way to move on from the past. A restart." He’s fooling himself with the agreement but his biggest flaw was always wanting to see the best in people, if she wanted her to be there, he would do that for her. For their family.

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