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choerypetal · 6 months ago

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Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister

Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.

ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.

word count; 6ks.

tag list ; @figurantedefilme

“Father, hasn’t come back.”

Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction.

Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.

“Hawkins.”

Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.

Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"

"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."

And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.

"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.

"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.

"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."

The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.

"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..."

"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.

"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"

Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off.

"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.

"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.

"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."

The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.

"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.

"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."

Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.

"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"

Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.

"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."

"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."

"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"

Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.

"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.

"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance.

"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?"

Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"

You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"

"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."

An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.

Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.

Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.

Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.

Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow.

"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.

"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.

"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.

Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.

"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.

Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.

"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.

He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"

A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."

"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"

"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams.

"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.

Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.

The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.

His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."

He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.

Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."

You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.

"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."

You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.

The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.

After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”

Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.

Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”

"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.

"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.

"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.

"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."

"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.

"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.

"I am too," he said.

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saey707 · 1 year ago

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Hello ! Is it possible to request an heartsteel kayn x reader ?

Reader has own band they're the funder and leader off and they're comforting kayn after he got kicked out from his group ? (Ofc they're lovers your honor)

I just want to see your takes on this one tbh

✿ Prompt: Kayn gets kicked out of his old band ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: I'm not going to lie anon, I skipped over a bunch of requests the minute yours popped up tbh (⸝⸝ᴗ﹏ᴗ⸝⸝) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 I got super inspired by your prompt and had to do it immediately before I forgot some of my ideas! So I hope you enjoy!

Rarely were there things that bothered Kayn. He has always been well known for his "I don't give a damn attitude" and being the infamous rule breaker that always gets what he wants!

But lately, you can tell a recent predicament left him crushed.

Even though Kayn refuses to outwardly show his deeper and innermost feelings, you can tell how upset he has been about his band kicking him out.

The indefinite solos, stage dives, narcissistic talks about his superiority over the others, and toxic publicity Kayn gave them had grown to be too much... So much so that they had to make the hard decision to let him go.

"They just didn't have what it takes to be flawless like me!" "They just were going to hold me back!" "Can you believe they called me toxic? I swear, they just suck!" Despite all the excuses Kayn makes you know deep down he is hurting inside. How could he not be? They were together for so long and they just let him go!

Kayn's grief comes in waves, but he'll never let anyone see him cry. Instead, he'll lash out on Twitter, screaming and starting petty fights so he can stay the least bit relevant. And boy does his long-time fans eat it up!

"you'll never catch up to me but i'd love to see you try" "you cant handle me? that's ur problem" "U CANT EVEN TOUCH ME"

You might have to take his phone and laptop away for a couple of hours so he doesn't continue to make things worse for himself...

He is truly one to stress eat and then lay under the covers for extensive periods of time when you aren't at his side to comfort him, let alone show him some attention!

It comes to a point where the most you can do is just give him a long, comforting hug. Despite how busy you are managing your own band, you aren't going to neglect your boyfriend's feelings.

For the first time ever, Kayn will find himself sinking into your touch... To him, just one gentle hug alone made him feel like the tension and weight he was carrying were slipping from his shoulders.

It will be the first time you'll ever see Kayn cry. But maybe one good cry is all he'll need to pick himself back up and continue to push forward.

The last thing you can ever hope to make Kayn believe is someone else is going to leave him. That was the last thing he needed right now. No, you weren't going anywhere- you were going to always be by his side...

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amber-jinx · 4 months ago

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Me again (:

Your posts always make me feel better, particularly the ones on Rachel. I need it due to the recent loss of a family member which is why I haven’t been around as much. That said, thank you for being so positive and supportive. ❤️

A question that has been lingering in my mind is why do you think Rachel is hated so much in the fandom? She was flawed, but I seriously doubt she was this monster that others make her out to be. To some degree, I can relate to her. Not on the daddy issues per se, but more so of being misunderstood.

Hey! Apologies for the delay in answering, really hope you're healing up well. And your GIFs are always so goofy they bring a smile to my face. Thank you so much for your kind words-- they remind me that my posts about Rachel aren't meaningless 🧡

Now getting to this very valid question-- why is Rachel, & by extension, any flawed character without a crystal clear definition like her, hated on so much??

1. Because she is ambiguous. Rachel is viewed in the 3rd person perspective-- either Max's or Chloe's; We never got to know what Rachel was actually thinking, how she felt and what lead to her decisions. All that we've seen in the game are after-the-fact and through varying third perspectives talking about the Rachel Amber, without actually knowing 100% who she really is.

This leaves room for the truth to be bent so severely that people barely scratch the surface of Rachel, and are basically blaming & hating on someone that is not her.

I bet if we got to play her version of the story from the start & experience all the mess from her pov, some players might just choose to hide from Chloe in order to protect her before anything comes to fruition, which can be very much justified in her position imo. Who knows? We could very much be jumping for Jeffersht's trap of an opportunity to get cash so that we can leave town with Chloe. It's all about the context & the framing.

2. As mentioned before by other bloggers, some fans focus too much on Chloe & her narrative that they judge Rachel solely based on Chloe's very biased narrative. I've noticed that quite a lot who appreciate/like Rachel played BTS first without much impression of who this girl is, which offers a very different experience as compared to playing the OG then BTS.

Chloe's outburst after finding out about Rachel's involvement with Frank (the words she used, "lied" "betrayed" etc) left such a deep impression in people's minds that after years of having played the game, continued to influence their perspectives.

Instead of taking account into other details where Rachel cared more for Chloe & was always prioritising her over Frank, and particularly due to the lack of major evidence of her being loyal to Chloe (which is mostly present in the unseen/untold, besides Joyce's remark that they were "joint in the head" and "chloe could never piss Rachel off"), folks now have a magnified impression that all Rachel ever did that's worth noting is her "betrayal", is her supposed plan on leaving Chloe without telling her, which could very well not be the case, but is kinda made harder to argue given Chloe's rage & us not knowing Rachel's side of the story (aka, in her defense), especially with her missing/out of the picture.

Therefore it's so easy for many to simply jump on the Rachel hate train in their almost blindsighted sympathy for Chloe. They might also:

- ignore that Rachel's a victim & instead assume 100% autonomy in her choices, when she was under influence & potential coersion / "it's too late to back out now" state

- ignore her age & circumstances, judge her like a grown mature adult who has good parents to guide her & wise friends to consult with

3. Inspired by your earlier comment! Most people who played the OG did it when they were pretty young & immature without much life experiences -- & so judged with their idealistic expectations, perhaps from the comfort of their homes/lives.

It can be hard to change your own views that's been set from so long ago. Takes some effort to replay the game, re-examine the evidence & admit to oneself that they were probably wrong. Understandable, I've been through the same.

And I've also seen those who have gone through their own messes, met their own supposed "Rachel Amber" irl and proceeded to project the toxicity & hurt they've experienced onto this teenage video game character, when in fact they're not 100% Chloe Price and the other, not a Rachel Amber and more of a subjective projection.

This isn't fair for the character, but then again like I've said, there's a thousand Rachels in a thousands eyes. We just have to keep in mind that whoever they're hating on is not the same as the character we adore 🤍

Thanks for this! I gotta try finding all your asks & make a master list at some point xD they're so good they can form a thread on their own 🌛 psst I am customising a Rachel plush, will see how well it goes & if more can be put out for orders. Unconfirmed stuff, more of a bonus if you've read this far ;)

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giggly-squiggily · 2 months ago

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squiggily i love you you're the bestest pal forever and my requests are always open for you 🩷

requesssst... i NEED lee!eizen, it's not even funny anymore 😭 it's such a standard scenario but how about eizen has just been ranked as number one (idk how old he would've been, just at some point pre canon 💀) and he starts overworking himself because he gets a little paranoid over losing the top spot which concerns shion who then decides to get eizen to chill out a bit, no matter what (and maybe genji if you want to add him but feel free to leave him out if two characters is easier ^^)

again THANK YOU for inviting me, you're amazing and ily

Rey you are an absolute blessing! This was so freaking fun to write AHH! I love me some Lee!Eizen; it's not something I usually write but after this he's definitely up there as characters I need to write more of! :D I hope you like it, friend!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @thatbigbisexual29 (thought of you while writing this hehe)

It took many years, endless hard work, and a lifetime’s amount of patience, but he was here. Top of the Asaemon, he took a vow to continue to work his predecessors left behind and carry on the good name of the Yamada Clan.

Even if that meant working twice- no, three times as hard as they have before. He would not let this decision be in vain.

“There he goes again, throwing himself into his work..” Genji sighed with a shake of his head, folding his large arms across his chest with a small tsk. “I respect the dedication, but even the best samurai take breaks.”

“I agree. Though you know how Eizen is.” Shion recalled, folding his own hands into the sleeves with a furrowed brow. “When he sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Shion didn’t need eyes to know the older man was smirking. He didn’t need them when he smacked him lightly either.

“Hush.” Shion scolded him gently, unable to deny it. They’ve always been hard workesr, even when they were first starting out in the clan., However- he eventually outgrew his habit of overdoing it- something Eizen still seemed to struggle with. Shion could count the amount of times he and Jikka dragged him home after he trained so hard he couldn’t use his legs any longer- a matter the redhead made them swear to secrecy.

Genji hummed, turning to leave while Shion was lost in thought. “I’ll leave him to you? If you need me, I can assist.”

“There’s no need. I’ll see to him.” Shion smiled, grinning when he heard Genji groan on his way out.

He could hear the laugh in his tone. It was nice to know his jokes landed.

~~~

Eizen laid his aching head in ink stained hands, letting out a low sigh that rattled his bones. He was so, so tired. Between working with new students and old, extensive recordings he needed to read and sign off, and the self-imposed training regime he set for himself, he was rather exhausted. All he wanted to do was have a cup of tea, visit the nearby shrine, and stare out into the sun rising horizon. Maybe he’d invite Jikka and Shion; just like they used to when they were kids.

Something warm and fragrant pulled him from his thoughts. A cup of tea, manifested. He blinked in surprise before following the hand it was attached to, eyes landing on the familiar face. “Thank you, Shion. This is much appreciated.”

“Of course. I even seeked out your preferred blend.” Shion folded his arms as Eizen took a sip, brows furrowing. “Eizen, when was the last time you took a break?”

Silence. The sipping stopped, as did Eizen. The redhead dared another peek, finding Shion frowning. “Don’t lie to me, either. I can see it on the tip of your tongue.”

“Ever a joker.” Eizen shook his head as he turned to face Shion properly. “I can’t stop right now, Shion. There’s so much to do; if I fall behind even a bit-”

“You’ll come back. Like you always do.” Shion’s gentle but firm words cut him off as he took a seat across from him. “You're a hard worker, Eizen. Even before you became the highest ranked. It’s something I’ve admired about you for a long time.”

“You're kind.” Eizen nodded, wincing some. He’s sat through enough of Shion’s lectures to know where this was going.

“But you concern me- especially now. You’ll find yourself knocking on death’s door if you keep this up.” He tilted his head low, brows low for added seriousness. “And I’d rather my dear friends not die before me.”

Eizen had nothing to say to that, for he knew all his answers wouldn’t be ones Shion wanted to hear. He stared down at the warm tea in his mug, finding the distorted reflexion unsettling. He looked tired- and perhaps thinner? He wasn’t missing meals- though they have been getting smaller and quicker than before…

He looked back up at Shion, the words stuck in his throat at that deadly serious face. A part of him wanted to give in. Put aside scrolls and swords and breathe. Shion wouldn’t look so sad then.

But…

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head, unable to face his deep frown. He felt like a child in the face of his master. How shameful.

“No, I should apologize.” What? Eizen looked up-

Then he was blinded.

“Shion!” He yelped when the other man attacked, knocking his tea out of the way and wrestling him to the ground. His foot kicked the table over, sending scrolls and ink everywhere. “Shion, this is ridiculous!”

“Yes- I suppose it’s a rather childish sight.” Shion was smiling again, grabbing at Eizen’s wrists as he positioned himself across his lap. “But when it comes to a hurricane, one must go for the eye of the storm.”

“That last one wasn’t even a blind joke!” The redhead grunted, tugging at his entrapment. Shion was strong as ever, much to his annoyance. “Let me up, we’re both too old for this.”

“Age is irrelevant here.”

“You’re acting like a child!”

“You’re acting rather stubborn. Who’s the child here?” Shion’s grin made Eizen blush and advert his gaze. “Since you’re too blind to see the error of your ways, I’ll just have to show you the path.”

“Don’t you da-Are!” Eizen gritted his teeth at the touch to his ribs, fingers sharp and precise. Just a small, little poke; yet it felt as if he was swarmed by bees. Tickly bees. “Shion!”

“Yes?” The blind man asked, poking him again. The redhead grunted, his body rebelling against him. “You sound tense. What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s-ermph!” Eizen shuddered all over when Shion used both his hands, twisting his index fingers into both sides of his waist. “St-Stohop that! Cea-ase this behavior imediahahahtly!”

“Ah, finally starting to see the light.” Shion smiled, feeling Eizen grab loosely at his wrist, shaking with suppressed giggles. “There’s no point trying to fight it. Just let go.” He added additional fingers, kneading along Eizen’s waist. “Give in to the first breath of laughter.”

Eizen would have punched him if he weren’t fighting for his life. Teeth gritted so hard he was sure he was bleeding, he tugged at his entrapped wrists with all the power of an Asaemon. Unfortunately for him, Shion’s earlier words came to haunt him. He was far too tired to pull away. “Shion, you damn ba-Gahahhahaa!”

“Oh?” Shion asked, fingers prodding along his ribs in a deviously familiar gesture. “Was that a laugh?”

“Shuhuhuhush! Stohohohop thihihis iihihiemehehehdiately!” His struggles grew, but Eizen still had no real strength to break free. Laughter bubbled up and over his lips, filling the once quiet room with its light sound. “Shihiihihihon!”

The blind man laughed alongside him, dancing his hand from one side to the other as Eizen squirmed. He eventually kept his hands on the center set of his ribs, the spot provided a slightly higher octave of laughter. “Seems you're still as ticklish as you were when we were young. Good to know.”

“Dohohohoohn’t you dahhahahre brihihihng that uuhuhuhp! Gehahahahah, you sohohoohn of a- Aheahhahahahahha!” Eizen managed to wiggle a hand free, swinging it at Shion’s arm as if it’d do anything. Taking this as a good sign, Shion released both wrists before attacking the dreaded spot on each side of his torso. That got him bad. “Gehahhahahahaha nohohohohohohohoohoho!”

“Hmhmhm, is it truly that bad? You haven’t changed one bit. Say, are you still ticklish here?” Shion dived his hands upward and into Eizen’s armpits just to see what would happen.

“GHHAHAH! ZZZFT!”

“Did you just snort?” Shion was utterly shocked. Eizen looked just as startled, briefly pausing his laughter at the silly sound.

“Shion- Shion don’t you dare-GHEHAHAHAH! EHAHAHH ZZZFT! ZZZPT GHEHAHAHHA!” He flailed backwards when those dastardly fingers attacked again, staying right within the sensitive spots beneath his arms. More giggles and snorts mixed with shouts and swears; Eizen was grateful he lived far enough from the clan’s main manor. The idea of his students even HEARING him in such a state was enough to make his face burn. “WOHOHOHOULD YOHOOHOHU KNOHOHOOCK THIIHIHS OHOOHOHOFF?”

“Are you going to stop overworking yourself?” Shion asked, brow raised. “Or at the very least, are you going to take more breaks?”

“YEHHEHES, YEHHEHHS! ZZZPHT GEHAHHA I PROHHOMISE!”

“Do you swear?”

“I SWEAHHAHAHR, I SWEHHAHAHAR!”

“..Do you like my puns?”

“SHIHIHION!” With a devious giggle, the blind man pulled back- sitting on his knees while Eizen gasped for air. Free from his clutches, the redhead twisted to his side, coughing roughly through the remaining snorts and giggles. Shion’s hand on his back was welcomed- if not a bit reluctantly. “Yohohour a dehehvil!”

“And you’re stubborn. But we make it work.” Shion patted him a few times before bringing back the tea, listening for Eizen’s sips. After he felt the cup return to him, he leaned back and nodded. “Feel better?”

“Heh..heheh..depends on what you mehehan..” Eizen forced himself to face him, pushing a hand through his fringe. “If you mean physically- I feel exhausted. I was already rather tired before, but then you showed up and took the last ounce of strength I had.” He glared, softening at Shion’s quirked lips. “Ah…I’ve made your point.”

“I’m glad you see things my way.” Shion chuckled. Eizen rolled his good eye with a good natured laugh.

“Fine. You win- I do feel better mentally. My head was starting to hurt from all that paperwork. I guess…I should take a rest now and again.” He looked out at his scattered scrolls, some smudged with ink and others crumbled in places. His brow furrowed. There was still so much…

“We’ll help you. I’m not much for paperwork, but I can take some of the training days off your hands. Jikka can help with this.” Shion gestured to the scrolls. “It’d be good for him to have something to do. He’s dangerous with time on his hands.”

When Eizen still seemed hesitant, Shion patted his wrist. “You do realize that just because you're our highest ranked doesn’t mean the weight of it all falls to you alone, yes? We’re all here for you. You don’t need to do everything by yourself to prove your rank is deserved.”

The redhead sucked in a sharp breath, Shion’s words hitting straight to the matter. He...really was doing that, wasn’t he? Whether he realized it or not. How shameful.

Yet, despite the effect his words had, Shion was kind. He always was, really. Eizen put a hand on top of his, nodding to the other man. “You’re right. I apologize for my behavior. I’ll take better care of myself and rely on you all more.”

Shion nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now- tomorrow is a day off. We’re going to the shrines.”

“It is?” Eizen hadn’t heard anything of the sort.

“For us, yes. Genji will be training the students. We’re going to visit that shrine nearby.” Shion held his chin, a pun loaded. “I’ve got quite the eye for such architecture.”

Eizen swatted at him gently, shaking his head. He was laughing though.

Thanks for reading!

#hell's paradise #tickle #tickle fic #squiggily writes the things #yamada asaemon shion #yamada asaemon eizen #dorks #they're besties your honor #maybe more?#jokes unless..#can be read either platonic or romantic whichever floats your boat #BUT YES AHH!#referenced some of your headcanons Rey this was so fun!

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worseforwords · 2 years ago

Text

The Strawberry Song - Part 2 (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Here it is, part 2. I decided to add the song I made for it yesterday, which is terrifying by the way. I hope you like it. If you haven't read it yet, here's part 1.

You closed your eyes as you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the nerves creeping up your stomach as you made your decision: you had to get back out there and face your fears, this was your last chance to save your relationship and you had prepared for it extensively. When you were about to open your eyes, you were startled by a knock on your window. “Y/N?” Apparently you had been sitting there, gathering courage, just a bit too long and she found you before you could find her.

You quickly got out of your car. “Hi.” Was all you said, as you already felt your eyes starting to water from looking into hers. “Hi, erm, I was actually about to go do some grocery shopping, but I can do that later. Want to come in?” She said, pointing towards the front door behind her with her thumb. You nodded as you locked your car, slowly following her lead into the house.

Right off the bat, the atmosphere inside was tense. A place you’d once called your second home, now felt cold and threatening. You recognised the smell, a mixture of the air freshener she always used and her own signature scent, which made your stomach turn in confusion. It was like the sweet aroma made your body want to wake its butterflies, but it also send a knife down your throat that could kill them at any given moment. You looked around as you contemplated where you should sit down, eventually choosing to just stand instead.

“How are you?” You finally broke the silence. “Been better.” She answered quickly. “You can sit down you know.” “Right, thanks.” You said as you moved to her couch, sitting on the opposite side of your usual spot, or what used to be your usual spot anyways.

“How about you, how have you been?” She asked in return, as she sat herself down at the other end of the sofa, leaving a noticeable gap in between the two of you. “Good, actually.” You answered, making her look at you in disbelief as you could see the disappointment in her eyes. “Oh, well good for you.” She said, trying her best to sound sincere. “No, no, not like that. I mean I- I missed you Less, so much.” Her expression now changed into one of confusion. “I mean I have been doing better, taking care of myself and stuff, you know.” You were stumbling over your words so much you had to take a quick breath, but the frown on Alessia’s face starting to disappear encouraged you to continue.

“I’m working out again, almost everyday, and I asked my mum to help me manage my schedule. She is awfully strict with me but I think that’s just what I needed.” You smiled faintly at that last part, as Alessia knew your mum and could definitely imagine how having her in control of you schedule would be a pain. “So how about the band? How did they react to all of this?” She asked carefully. “I actually arranged a meeting with them shortly after our, well, you know, pause.” You awkwardly looked away as you didn’t want to bring up that subject yet, before quickly continuing. “Our manager, Paul, was even there, and I brought up the subject of our mental and physical health and how our current lifestyle wasn’t sustainable if we wanted to grow further and have a future. I cried and it was terrifying to call everyone out like that, but in the end they all agreed with me.” “Even Paul?” She asked, amazed. “Well, it took him some time to get on board with the whole plan, but after two days he suddenly changed his mind. I reckon my mum has something to do with that, but of course she denies everything.” You chuckled lightly at that whilst the muscles in Alessia’s face slowly relaxed further. “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N.” She said genuinely.

An awkward silence arose as you tried to remember everything you wanted to say to apologise to her whilst she looked at you expectantly. She must have sensed you were heading towards panic mode, as she suddenly got up from the couch. “Can I get you a drink? Tea maybe?” She knew how poor your decision making skills were, especially in your current flustered state, so she handed you an easy answer. “Yeah, thanks.”

When she came back with two cups of tea however, your mind was still all over the place as you nervously danced with your feet and neither of you sought eye contact. In a desperate attempt to both calm your nerves and buy yourself some time to gather your thoughts, you took a sip of your tea, which was obviously still way too hot, making you flinch before swiftly putting the cup back down. You figured maybe you just had to start talking, so you opened your mouth slightly, but nothing came out. “So, erm-” Alessia started, finally forcing you to speak up. “I’m sorry, I-“ You stuttered. “Sorry for what?” She asked, probably aiming to help you find your words. “I just- I prepared this whole speech for this moment but now I’m drawing a blank. No words seem good enough.” You blurted out. “Oh.” Was all she said, followed by another dreadful silence.

“I wrote you a song.” You finally said, still staring at your dancing feet, making her head shoot up to look at you. “Really?” She replied, looking at you in disbelief. “Yeah.” You answered. “Want to hear it?” She nodded and you walked to your car to grab the synthesizer you brought.

You walked back into her living room, synth case wrapped around your shoulder, amplifier in your hand and keyboard stand firmly clamped under your armpit. “Oh wow.” She said upon noticing the gear you brought. “Yeah well, I’m not singing to you a capella.” You chuckled. “You're singing to me?” She looked at you in awe.

As your bands keyboardist, you usually only sang backing vocals, so you weren’t quite used to putting your voice out there like you were about to do. That, combined with the fact that this song was far more intimate and downtempo than anything you would usually write or play with your band, made you feel very fragile, but you knew that’s what you had to be like now.

You hastily plugged everything in as your heart rate started to increase rapidly, making your hands shake and struggle to connect the final cable. “Need any help?” Alessia asked, clearly noticing you anxious state. “I’m good, thanks.” You answered, knowing her getting closer to you would only make matters worse.

When everything was plugged in and ready, you positioned yourself behind your synthesizer. “Here goes nothing.” You mumbled to yourself as you looked at the girl you were about to serenade to, before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your fingers found the right keys with your eyes still closed, and you laid down the first chord. Towards the end of a brief intro, you took another deep breath before softly but openly carrying the first note into the song.

Night skies, dark and stormy Soft cries, as you lay before me Blue eyes, could never bore me No lies, please inform me How, can you be, so Wow, I can see, some How, you cared for me, but Now, I made you flee Strong grips, a feeling I savour She flips, making me quaver Eclipse, do me a favour Her lips, strawberry flavour How, can you be, so Wow, I can see, some How, you cared for me, but Now, I made you flee How, can you be, so Wow, I can see, some How, I want you with me, I Vow, to love you like you should be loved, loved, loved, should be loved

As you laid down the last chord and note, a single tear rolled down your cheek. Since you had played most of the song with your eyes closed, you had no clue how Alessia responded to it. You kept your eyes closed a little longer, letting the sound completely fade out, before finally peeking at the girl in front of you, to find her glancing at you in awe, eyes brimmed with tears. You both remained quiet for a bit, not breaking the eye contact, before she got up to pull you into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” she muddled into your neck, “that was beautiful.”

Alessia sat back down on the couch as she opened up her arms again, gesturing for you to join her. You carefully sat down next to her, and she pulled you into her for another tight hug. Both of you lay curled up on the couch for a while in a comfortable silence, sinking into each others embrace. “I’ve missed this.” Alessia finally spoke. “Me too.” You said and you returned to silence. Neither of you wanted to ruin this near perfect moment of finally being able to hold each other again, but you also knew the conversation wasn’t finished. You were glad she liked the song, but there was more to be said.

“I am so sorry Less, about everything.” You said. “Y/N, it’s okay, I get it.” “No it’s not.” You interrupted her. “I was having a hard time adjusting to my sudden new life, but that’s no excuse for treating you the way I did. Nothing is.” You said, finally finding the right words to say. “I was absolutely blind to your needs and I completely broke your trust. I know I don’t deserve another chance whatsoever, but if you’ll let me, I’ll do everything in my power to be better, and to regain your trust.”

She slowly sat up, breaking out of the embrace you’d been in this whole time. Thankfully she just did this now, as her piercing blue eyes staring right into your soul sure made it a lot harder to find your words. “Listen, Y/N/N,” her finally using your nickname again made you swoon, “I am glad to hear you’re working on yourself and you’re living a healthier life again, and I really loved the song, it’s truly beautiful.” She paused for a bit to think. “But?” You asked anxiously. “But,” she repeated, “two weeks is not enough to prove you have changed, because what you did, Y/N, and how you acted, it really did break my trust, and it will take time to heal from that and regain it.” She took a long pause again, before adding: “If ever.” That last part hit you like a brick fell into your stomach, but you held yourself together, knowing she was right, and you deserved this. “Of course.” You replied softly. “I get that. Take all the time you need, okay?” You tried to reassure her.

“So what now?” You asked after yet another silence. “Let’s just take things slow, right? If you want we can go out next week, and then we’ll see how things move from there.” She replied. “I’d love that, Less.” You smiled softly. “Good. I’m looking forward to it, Y/N.” She said, a genuine smile on displayed on her face.

“By the way, do you have a recording of that song somewhere?” “Erm maybe, why?” You answered suspiciously. “You can’t show it to your friends!” You said, to which she chuckled. “All right, I won’t, but please, I’d love to listen to it again.” She said, persuading you with her puppy dog eyes. “Okay sure, but if you show it to anyone you’re dead. My tough reputation is on the line here.” You said, to which she snorted, making it known that was not the reputation she’d known you to have at all. “Then maybe we’ll be even.” She mumbled, but still loud enough for you to hear her, making you gasp. “Too soon Russo.”

She walked you back to your car, assisting you with your gear. “Thanks, roadie.” You joked. “Hey, watch it, don’t make me make you carry my boots and shin pads around.” She retaliated. You’d missed joking around with her so much. “Don’t even joke about that. You know I’d do it.” You said, referring to how, before everything went down, she had you wrapped around her finger. “Oh I know.” She smiled, raising her eyebrows provocatively. “Hey Less” You started in a more serious voice. “Yeah?” “Please keep me in the loop, you know, about everything you’re feeling about this, I mean, us.” “Yeah, I will, you too.” She replied. “Will do.” You said as you closed the trunk of your car. Before you got into your car, she pulled you in for a quick hug again, swiftly placing a kiss on your cheek. “See you next week, Y/N.”

Just as you started to feel at peace with how everything went today, a car pulled up next to yours. “Y/N?” An angry sounding voice called out. You knew that voice all too well from how it told you you were dead to her a little over two weeks ago. “Ella, hi.” You said calmly, whilst screaming on the inside. She got out, leaving her car in the middle of the street, as she slammed her door shut with a loud thud. “How dare you show up here after all that you’ve done?” She yelled “Ella, it’s o-” “You stay out of this.” She shushed her best friend. “Alessia might still have her love goggles on for you, but I sure don’t.” She turned back to Alessia. “Less please, remember how she ruined you. Don’t give her a chance to do it again.” Alessia remained quiet as she stared a the ground, clearly doubting everything that had happened today as her best friend tried to knock some sense into her. “Ella I-” “I don’t want to hear it.” She cut your attempted explanation off. “Piss of Y/N, I never want to see you near my girl again.” She said, pointing an angry finger at you that almost touched the tip of your nose. Clearly, there was no point in talking to her right now, so you decided to respect her wishes and you got into your car and drove away.

When you got home, your mind was all over the place again, reviewing all of todays events, not knowing whether to feel happy or terrified, as your stomach felt like a spinning washing machine filled with both bricks and butterflies. You decided to text the girl this was all about asking whether you were still on for next week, but as the day went by you got no reply.

You knew you would have no chance at getting any sleep without hearing from her, so you decided to call her before you went to bed. To your dismay, your call went to voicemail almost straight away, like she immediately swiped it away, so you had no choice but to go to bed without any affirmation whatsoever. As you lay awake, you thought about Ella’s words. Was she right? Should you just leave her alone so you couldn’t hurt Alessia again? This taking things slow thing was going to be way more difficult than you had thought upon agreeing to it.

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Part 3 out now!

Writer's note: I feel like I'm really putting myself out there with this one, with the song and everything, so I hope you liked it. I wanted to distort my voice to remain anonymous, but ended up kind of liking the effect and I played with it a little. Of course it doesn't sound like the reader is singing it live, but I'll leave that to your imagination. :)

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #muwfc x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #engwnt x reader

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random-introverted-blog · 10 months ago

Text

His Star - His Queen [Chapter 6 - Your Eyes–My Mirror

He'd recognize that pain anywhere...

Summary:Astarion has been busy the last eleven days of your time in the palace. Just what has your vampire been up to? Ladies and gentleman… Meet (most) of The Resistance.

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Warning/Advisories: Angst? Thoughts of violence/aggression? Don't think this chapter has anything to warn about, to be honest...

A/N: Surprise update! This chapter took way longer than I expected and I apologize for that. Here's hoping it was worth the wait and that we'll be leveling out the update frequency...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

"Watch your step, kid," Said Aric as they wandered deeper into the dank cave. Cracks in the rock ceiling provided light from the setting sun, but Astarion noted the makeshift sconces along the walls for torches for when it became too dark.

They had traveled some distance from Baldur's Gate, which isn't terribly surprising. He had been visiting this world for a full tenday and it became rapidly apparent the grip his Ascendant self had on the city.

Nor was this his first time visiting their secret base of operations. Astarion had become quite acquainted with the ragtag team, not so unlike the one you had put together back home. However, they had organized a... much larger force.

Aric wiped his palm on his dark green tunic and pressed it into the hidden, inconspicuous crack in the rock wall of the natural hallway they found themselves in. The stone shimmered subtly and then the tiefling passed through it, with Astarion close behind.

It was only after they passed the shabby wooden door and the armed guards beyond that they descended the rickety stairs and entered the bustling city. Aric told him only the families that were no longer truly safe in the Gate were permitted to stay down here. It benefitted the resistance that its fighters could trust that their loved ones were safe, and that the talents of so many were readily available if the need arose.

Plenty of smith's, wizards and carpenters had helped in fortifying this place, and its expansion in the Underdark. With the fruitful, silent raids of supplies from the palace, they had no actual concern for food.

But time was running out. The Godking had become weary of what had been futile efforts. Where once they were an amusement, they had become an unwelcome distraction in recent years.

The pair made their way through the midday crowd and past more guards. Finding better armed ones at the top of a wooden platform. As they neared the top of the stairs, the guards, showing respect for Aric, nodded and opened the path for them.

Aric nodded back, continuing their journey to the war room.

As they approach the door, the vampire's keen ears pick up on the distinct sounds of bickering growing louder. The Dwarven man scowled down at the Elven man, whose hair shimmered like molten gold across the table - while the dragonborn couple, a harmonious though typical gold and silver pair, watched in silent irritation. "Had your people not drawn so much attention, we could have planted more than one mole in that wretched hellhole!" The Elven man glowers, gesturing wildly over the extensive map, dominating the entire length of the table.

Ignoring the criticism, the dwarf lets out a dismissive grunt. "The people needed a reminder that the resistance not only stands, but thrives. Despite the Godking's insistence to the contrary. I do not regret my decision to assault the factory."

"Understandable as it may be to maintain public morale and faith in the resistance, we mustn't forget the present risk. Now is not the opportune moment to invite the Godking's wrath." The female dragonborn commented, folding her large gold arms over her chest.

"We must choose our every step with great care and consideration for the time being. Caladhel's informants are spread thin with many of them either going to ground or being finessed out by Ballar and his minions." She concluded, amber eyes fixed on a particular figure on the map of the city before them.

The silver dragonborn, a towering figure, joined his partner and pointed a claw at the figure in question. "The Noctis have been diligently purging their ranks for months, leaving no doubt that they are preparing for something significant," he stated, his piercing pale blue eyes fixated on the map. As he withdrew his hand, the sound of his scales scraping against each other filled the room. "With the palace now rejecting maidens as tithes, our top priority is to confirm our suspicions. Pyrastra is right, Durgan. The assault on the factory was a reckless move,"

Annoyed, Durgan, the dwarf, sighed heavily. "Aye, and what of Jester? Has he not provided anything of value yet? Is the tiefling girl not in direct contact with him?"

Caladhel shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line of discontent. "Jester has been out in the field, coordinating the few remaining informants and our agents. He hasn't been down here himself in a month." He says, looking toward Aric and Astarion.

"He mentioned in a missive to me he had news to report from Elowen and he would be here for the meeting." The Grey skinned tiefling added simply.

"How is our little Winnie?" Pyrastra asks, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Alive and safe for now, but he did not say more."

"Well, allow me to rectify that and speak for myself." A nasally voice spoke from behind them, the words resolute in tone.

When Astarion and Aric turned to face the voice, the vampire nearly fell over at the sight of the small statured... creature of nuisance and bother. Swiftly he pushed his way past their legs and strode to the table with a confidence the runty little rodent had that left Astarion baffled by the audacity.

Grabbing hold of a stool that was conveniently tucked away beneath the table, and skillfully climbed onto it to overcome the height obstacle. Astarion followed Aric into the room to stand beside Caladhel as the gnome spoke. "Let's cut to the quick, shall we?" He said from under his black cloak, worn and nicked black dyed leather glinting in the orange glow of the bright torchlight. "Elowen has spotted Malacai."

"By Moradin's Beard..." Durgan gasped, his eyes widening, his calloused hand instinctively reaching up to stroke his thick, dark brown beard as his gaze fell to the map, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

Caladhel's head shook once more, his hand instinctively reaching for the bridge of his nose, as if trying to block out the world around him. "Silvanus preserve us..."

"So it's true then." The silver dragonborn timbre mellow, somber. "He's found one."

With a single shake of his head, Jester emphasized, "Not just anyone, Glacius. Elowen says he's found Her. Another one, by appearances, an exact copy." His grey eyes slowly moved along to the others at the table.

Caladhel cleared his throat and adjusted the furs of his hide armor before smoothing the feathers on his shoulders. His gaze found Durgan, sharp and piercing as an eagle's, brimming with the silent storm of emotion that threatened to overflow. "How about it, then? Should I tell my wife we may have a crisis on our hands? One we know next to nothing about in exchange for public clout?" His eyes piercing, accusing.

"Enough. Bickering like star-crossed magpies isn't going to change a thing. Nariel will be informed once she returns from her venture into the Underdark with the other druids." Pyrastra orders sternly, extending her hands out to either side of the table before returning her attention to Jester. "The Festival of Gratitude begins in earnest soon, and Godking Ancunín will give the address this year. I believe we now all understand why." She narrows her eyes as they fall on Aric and Astarion.

The tiefling sweeps a low hum from his throat, locking his fingers together out of sight. "What's the plan for sneaking me and the newbie into the grand hall? It's off-limits to everyone this time around, with that arrogant prick gracing the world with his presence."

"My agents and I will get us inside, no problem. And from what I've heard from the time lords--"

"Priests."

"Whatever," Jester and Aric bicker briefly before the former scoffs in annoyance. "Your new guy has a connection to the blushing bride-to-be. If he can get close, perhaps she can be swayed to help us."

Durgan's gaze pierces through the space between them, sharp and unforgiving, as his eyes fixate on the gnome with an intensity that's almost tangible. "The last one, you know, had a gentle heart," he sneers, the words dripping with a mix of disdain and melancholy, "but she was like a whisper in a storm to her husband—fleeting and without strength. What's to say this one won't dissolve into the shadows just the same?"

Jester shrugs one shoulder indifferently. "Elowen was picked as one of her personal servants. She says the queen has a conscious still. Her spirit remains untamed, unshattered by the icy grasp of her betrothed. There's a chance, a sliver of light in the dark, that we might still reach her, rouse her to our cause before he ensnares her in his facsimile of love."

Despite the overwhelming urge to lash out, Astarion resisted the impulse to unleash his anger on the group. Illyndra had made it clear during his last visit to the Precipice - or whatever that place is called - that these imbeciles were his best and only chance to confront the Ascendant and ensure your safety. So much so that he had revealed to them his connection to you... Not who he is, precisely.

When he disclosed his knowledge of the Ascendant's plan to make you his queen, it triggered a contentious argument, and they stubbornly refused to believe him. "Are you all done squabbling? Or must we continue wasting time on petty, pathetic rivalries?" He interjected with palpable frustration.

The tiefling set a hand on his the shoulder of Astarion's spidersilk armor. "I'm with the new elf. The sooner we get ourselves in there, the sooner we can hopefully get in contact with Elowen and maybe even the consort. We need to establish our presence in the palace yesterday."

Yet another reminder of what you were caused Astarion to tense up. What that arrogant dictator desired you to become. Before, when they didn't believe him, he could quiet his mind. Now it's being carelessly shoved into his face. It was inescapable. The Ascendant could be inflicting any number of nightmares upon you, and all Astarion could do was sit here and wait.

Finally, it seemed it was time to act. With a round of silent nods around the table, the resistance leaders established a silent understanding. Your vampire could scarcely believe he was happily following a gnome, of all pests, out of the meeting, his senses heightened by the sound of the gnome's tiny footsteps.

But he was desperate. The vision of your face felt like a distant dream, fading away like the soft hues of a setting sun. The touch of your soft skin, a memory he clung to desperately, even as it slipped further through his fingers. Your laughter echoed in his mind, filling him with a melancholic harmony that felt both familiar and distant.

Gods, when did his heart become so... saccharine? At the very least, he had to see you, even if just for a moment.

And he knew you needed to see him.

You needed to know your star still burned bright with fiery intensity rivaling the depths of the night, promising to light your way back home.

‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐

Jester remained true to his word. With a brief detour to the cavern's warehouse to procure appropriate clothing, the trio continued on their way to the palace. "It's doubtful she'll be unattended, and they'll likely have orders to ensure it stays that way." The gnome prattled on as they approached the grand doors, his words accompanied by the distant hum of festive commotion.

Astarion observed the vibrant array of stalls, their vendors enthusiastically peddling their wares and services, their voices mingling with the ambient noise. The aroma of various goods wafted through the air, enticing passersby. The guards, preoccupied with their duties, fussed over a fenced-in patch of dirt nearby. Servants meticulously hung colorful banners along the length of a wooden fence, their nimble fingers adding a splash of color to the surroundings. The jeweler and book merchant deliberately positioned themselves, basking in the warm rays of the setting sun, their merchandise glinting with promise.

The trio adhered to their plan, with Astarion and Aric silently positioning themselves behind their well-dressed gnome companion. The guards diligently checked all three of them for weapons, and only then did they allow them to pass through the doors.

It was just as extravagant as he had anticipated from the Ascendant. Intriguingly, the walls in the entrance hall were white and floors a glossy marble that seemed to amplify the echo of their every footstep. The layout evoked strong similarities to Moonrise tower for the vampire spawn. Was that intentional? If so, for what purpose?

Portraits of the Ascendant adorned the walls, but there were noticeable breaks in the arrangement, suggesting that certain ones had been intentionally removed. Naturally, the other portraits were impeccably crafted and clearly indicative of their exorbitant value. Anything to show off all of his wealth, it seems.

They climbed the short set of stairs and entered the larger, incredibly high ceiling grand hall. Upon ascending the short set of stairs and entering the grand hall, they were greeted by the sight of several large, ornate chandeliers hanging from the sky-high ceiling. In the hall, the walls were lined with large stained and mosaic windows, allowing the orange glow of the fading sun to stream in. From afar, he could see a dais displaying a pair of thrones positioned side by side.

At the front of the elevated platform, his gaze sweeping across the assembly with an air of detachment, even boredom, stood The Ascendant. No guards positioned themselves at the foot of the majestic staircase leading to the thrones, and no soul dared venture near him. His regal stature exuded an arrogance that demanded unwavering awe and reverence from all who beheld him, as if his presence alone was a bestowed privilege they were undeserving of.

Your vampire had to consciously refrain from baring his fangs, seeing this imitation again.

Jester's eyes roam the room as he utters, "First things first, we need to find Lady Morningstar," absentmindedly scratching his reddish copper hair.

"Truly? She's so bold as to show her face this festival?" Aric queries in mild disbelief.

"That's what the rats are chittering." Jester answers discreetly. The tiefling is now scouring the crowd as well. But the fellow rogue doesn't forget to look over his shoulder at their Elven compatriot. "Morningstar is a small, blue-eyed, golden-haired floozy. You can't miss her. It's like the girl was sculpted into temptation incarnate."

Just as Astarion is about to say something, his eyes are captivated by a familiar shade of hair. Though styled into soft waves, it wasn't too different from what he knew. Escorted along by a tall, pale human man with black hair and piercing red eyes, holding his chin up with confidence. "Jester," Aric calls, his voice a barely audible hiss.

"I see him." The gnome replies softly, much calmer and barely audible over the hushed murmurs of the crowd, as other heads turn discreetly in the direction of the man... and the woman hidden beside him. Jester's murmur of the name "Malacai..." barely reaches Astarion's ears, as his focus became transfixed by the sight of a mesmerizing, flowing blue dress. And before he fully knows it... there you are.

The Ascendant has taken your hand, pulling you gently into him, and the way he smiles at you sickens him. Astarion took note now of the choice of clothing. His doppelgänger wore a white outfit with shades of blue along the trim and seams of the fabric. And your dress was embroidered with silvery white leafs and spirals along the shoulders and neckline. Intentionally done to complement the others ensemble. Show the world how you and he complement each other.

"All silence for the Godking's address!" A voice louder than a thousand trumpets commands.

Obediently, the crowd hushes, and a blanket of silence descends. You could hear a pin drop, as not even a throat cleared while the Ascendant studied his audience... and you did the same. Granting Astarion the opportunity to see you for the first time in over a tenday.

From what he could tell, you looked physically well, if nothing else. You stood at your full height, no visible weight change or marks on your skin... But something was different. Changed.

Dimmer.

"May you find yourselves gratified by the announcement and esteemed company of my betrothed! My queen-to-be, in her resplendent grace!" The Ascendant declared with power and pride. Evoking to Astarion the scene of a warmonger claiming tribute of his conquest. Jealousy he struggled to contain grew stronger as he witnessed the Ascendant slip an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side, while the blaring trumpets added insult to injury, declaring a premature victory.

If his heart could still beat, it would have fractured and split wide open down the middle. He knew this was coming, and he trusted your feelings, but hells, how it still stung. What manner of fool was he? This engagement would ultimately be meaningless, after all. So why did it still gnaw at him?

Even from here, your vampire noticed the way your face contorted with unease. You were performing admirably at maintaining your composure. If he were anyone else, he'd have been convinced by the smile on your face that you were content, if you were even aware of it yourself. But he had the unfortunate insight of knowing you all too well. Better than the Ascendant wished he did, dreamt he ever would.

Astarion silently feared the moment when your eyes would meet his. You were putting on a strong front, from what he could see. He had to do the same. For you. For himself. For the future you hope to share.

The Ascendant turned to look at you and just like when Astarion and you first encountered him, your vampire recognized that same repulsive mockery of love that could barely be compared to Astarion's feelings for you. Devoted, of course. But gods... you were a beloved, disturbing obsession for him, one that he would control, manipulate, and sequester to suit his every desire. That any version of Astarion would ever see you this way could ignite his icy skin to ash.

The kiss he stole from the both of you, that you mirrored, if only to maintain your act. Astarion knew this was what you had to do to survive, and he didn't hold it against you. But...

He kept a close watch as the Ascendant guided you toward the overly ornate chairs behind the two of you, and didn't fail to notice the valiant way you attempt to hold your ground. Or how you resisted his effort to seat you in the left one, that you found yourself seated, regardless. What caught him by surprise was the subtle way your foot stiffened and pressed against the base of the throne.

Out of nowhere, a warm hand settled on his shoulder. "Focus, we're not getting to her tonight."

With a disdainful expression, Astarion forcefully shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, his eyes locked in a piercing stare with the tiefling. No matter how right he knew Aric was, his frustration remained relentless.

"Is this the one?" A different voice spoke up, weaving through the crowd and accompanied by the gnome. Aric let out a heartfelt sigh before enveloping her in a warm embrace.

"Elowen, my dear girl," he said, his voice filled with tenderness, "Are you well?" As he gently took her shoulders.

The young woman smile and nodded, reassuring her father, "Don't worry, papa, I'm well. They take care of the staff. How's Asha?" Elowen questioned next, with her own worried tone.

Aric smiled, his eyes crinkling with happiness, and embraced her again. "She misses her sister, but she is in good spirits." He says as he separates fully and steps back. "What have you learned? Jester says you were handpicked by our new queen."

"Queen-to-be," Elowen corrects, adjusting her servant outfit. The typical black ensemble with a white apron.

"But yes," she continues, her words measured and careful. "I have seen little of her, though I can sense compassion when I do. The Godking doesn't see us more than tools or things, existing solely to fulfill their every whim. He has been relentless in his efforts to instill the same mindset in her."

Leaning closer, her voice barely above a whisper, Elowen presses on with what information she has gathered thus far. "Master Ancunín keeps her confined in the northwest wing of the palace. It's a place shrouded in secrecy. Only certain members of staff are allowed access." She explains carefully, discreetly.

Jester crosses his arms, his brow furrowing as he hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating softly in the air. "If what you say is true," he begins, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism, "that she is resisting his influence and still holds empathy, then perhaps establishing a direct line of communication would be beneficial." He glances around, his gaze flickering between the three taller individuals in their group. "Denying her access to the outside world will weigh heavily on her, I'm sure," he continues, his words tinged with concern. "But if we can ensure she knows we exist, if we can provide a link to life beyond the confines of the palace walls, well, having a sovereign on our side would undoubtedly make a significant impact."

Astarion's eyes narrowed as he resisted the impulse to wrap his fingers around the gnome's scrawny, useless neck. "We need to get her out of here." Is all he trusted himself to say without exploding in rage.

Elowen furrowed her brows, a deep frown etched on her face. "She's under near constant watch from Malacai and the other servants," she explained, her voice tinged with unease. As she spoke, the ambient sounds of chatter among the nobility blended with their own conversation, providing a natural blanket of discretion to their words. The air carried a faint scent of heady and delicate perfumes, mingling with the underlying aroma of extravagance and luxury. Elowen continued, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation, "Reaching her at all means you would have navigated deep within the palace. The northwest wing is one of the furthest from here..."

"The tourney." Aric speaks suddenly, glancing between Astarion, Elowen and Jester. "If one of us enters and wins the tourney—"

Jester's sharp look cuts him off mid-sentence, shutting him down. "And what? Wish for him to hand over his shiny new princess? Even if you simply asked to see her, and even if he allowed it, he will be there watching everything. What purpose would it serve?"

Calmly, Aric waited and listened for his companion to finish his rant before continuing. "A wish granted by his divine Majesty himself could have many uses. Wouldn't you agree, old friend?" He explains slowly, calmly.

The shorter man's glare intensified, his hands balling into tight fists, his arms stubbornly crossed, until he begrudgingly looked away with a grunt. "In the meantime, let Elowen smuggle in the sending stone to the queen-to-be." Reaching into his pocket and holding the stone to the young tiefling girl.

She nods, her face calm and composed, and accepts it from him without a second thought. "Rest assured, I will make certain that she receives it." Then she turns to Astarion. "Jest' mentioned you and her know each other. That you're close."

It was unexpected for her to address the vampire knowingly like this, but he still managed to nod in response. She flashes him a sympathetic smile, her eyes glancing over her shoulder towards the throne, and Astarion follows suit. There you were. Seated on a throne that he would ordinarily find fitting for how he saw you. You deserved more than he could give you... You deserved to have the world laid at your feet, with all its wonders and possibilities.

But as he looked upon you now, he was unsurprised to see how you hated it. Just as he knew you would. You craved simple pleasures, the irony of which provided no small amount of amusement when considered his own... complications.

What was curious, though, was the Ascendant had said something, and your leg visibly jolted, but your foot did not. The one he saw fasten itself to the throne, as if it belonged there all along. Your right foot, he now noted. Then the Ascendant's lips moved, speaking to you again, and you ceased. Resigning yourself to recline into the throne, your one hand clasped in the Ascendant's gentle grip while your other hand lightly traced the fabric of your dress with your nails.

"She's tougher than she looks, even now. I know he did... something last night. But despite that, she's holding on. Maybe it's you she's clinging to." Elowen speaks, a glimmer of hope coloring her voice.

Before Astarion could even shape his lips around the question, a stirring of worry clenched his heart. Until your bored eyes - dancing aimlessly through the sea of people, yours finally landed on his.

It was like his heart stopped beating all over again.

He could see the hesitancy in you, a furrowed brow and a slight frown as you hesitated to trust what you were seeing, hearing, and feeling. As he found himself lost in your eyes, his world crumbled around him. It was a pain that he could instantly identify in others. That he found it in yours could ignite a storm of emotions in him, ranging from rage to sorrow.

The monster had hurt you... with his hands. His body.

But you must know it wasn't Him, right? He, your vampire, was guilty of many things... But he would never... subject you to that.

"Her suffering is inevitable now, and it will be plentiful in supply."

Why he found himself praying, Astarion could only guess. The gods had remained silent and indifferent last time. Yet, there he was, silently pleading words he scarcely believed could make a difference. He tried, though, really tried, because maybe, just maybe, this time, they would. For your sake.

Please let this be the end of your supplied suffering...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: What will be, what will be...

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carletes · 2 years ago

Note

Hibs, tell me something beautiful I'm waiting for a doctor to see me and I'm bored and tired :(

.....fuck it, here's the opening of the epilogue

Prince Sir Lando of Anglosax, First of your Name, the Moon Awax—

How to even begin this missive? Goddess keep you and preserve you. That is a good start. How to continue?

I long for you every night

My heart is empty without you

Goddess protect the next man who keeps you from me or I will

Please come back to me

Mamá and Papá send their love. Cisca has been settled into her quarters; she finds them to her liking though I suspect that would have been the case regardless. She has already begun conversing in Hiberian with the staff. She is better than you, though you will not be surprised by this. She is anxious to begin her lessons. I think she is more anxious to make friends her own age. Anita would love for Cisca to be her little shadow, but I have made it clear to her that she must allow Cisca the freedom to make her own friends. Hopefully you will agree with my decision.

Alma is insufferable. Solstice draws closer, and she has taken it upon herself to be even more dramatic than all of you in Silverstone combined. As much as I miss her when we are in Thameside, I had not realized how much I rely on the buffer that you, George, and Alex provide.

Perhaps I am being cruel. I am being cruel. She is to take her Oath in but a week. Who among us was not insufferable leading up to that occasion? (Excepting you, of course. I have never once had to suffer you.)

Admittedly, I have been accused of brooding in your absence, my love. And how could I not brood? The words you said to me that eve in our bed, the way you felt around me, the softness of your hair between my fingers – Goddess send that you are blushing as you read this, mi amado, for I would love to kiss each rosy cheek, hold my fingers to your heated forehead, press a cool drink against your hand and love you with my whole body. My point is this: yes, I brood, for I miss you so fucking much.

I hope your trip to the abbey was fruitful, and that Oliver fares well. I was glad to hear that George and Alex have taken it upon themselves to accompany you. I can imagine they are doing your head in, but I would rather sacrifice your sanity than countenance your loneliness. I am eager to hear more of his insights. So is Blanca.

Charles and Pierre plan to be in Navar for Alma’s knighthood, which is quite kind of them given how much work is left to be done in Seuloger. Fernando says Seuloger looks beautiful; spare, of course, but beautiful. There is now a permanent population beyond Charles and Pierre! Over a hundred already – volunteers and Reverts alike! It is a marvel, truly. Hiberia’s gift of (many, many) saplings was well-received; Seuloger now has an industry beyond pilgrimage. I need not fear Charles' lack of governance experience. To an extent.

We must discuss what Anglosax’s gift to Seuloger must be when we are reunited. I know Father will have some thoughts, but I am indeed partial to Mother’s suggestion of donating tomes. So much knowledge lost…but my extensive review of Anglosax’s archives give me heart that we may be able to aid in replenishing Seuloger’s libraries. I have some Hiberian volumes in mind as well. Might we be able to secure such a gift from other Realms too? Perhaps we could commission some illuminators to make copies of

Look at me. Do you see why we must reunite? You are the only person who enjoys listening to me. I quite miss the attention.

I do hope this missive finds that your plans of departing from Silverstone are not interrupted. Give my best to my Lord Provost, the knight masters and scholars, and Flo, of course.

A warning: I will not be able to keep my hands off of you when you disembark. I will be waiting for you. That sounds like a threat. It is a threat – but an enjoyable one, I assure you. Try to be well-fed when you arrive, yes? I do not envision many snack breaks.

It seems I must now decide how to end.

I cannot wait to hold you again. I cannot wait to kiss you again. I am a carnal fool, but I cannot wait to be inside you again. My heart pounds at the thought. Mi Lando. I know we will not be in Thameside, home, again for a while yet, but that does not make me ache. It is only the distance from you that makes me ache.

Soon, I will ache no more. Goddess speed your way back to me, Lando of Anglosax. I await you.

Your Husband,

Carlos

#hibi answers #tsor #spoilers-ish!!

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islaytonlost · 1 year ago

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The Jigsaw Museum Part 5

Part 1, Part 4, Part 6

Alfendi isn't a rolemodel. Don't listen to him, vunerablity is good.

---

Al was glad for Lucy, that he’d somehow managed to calm her but everyone in the room kept glancing at her and, by extension him. He was sure they had judgements.

Lucy, still clinging to his wrist as if it was the only proof that he was alive, didn’t seem to notice. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should do something about it.

They were possibly making untrue assumptions about her. Should he say something? Or let her work it out herself? This was Lucy, she’d always been able to look out for herself and others but now she could barely look out for herself and for the first time, as he stood by her side she wasn’t there for him.

He could look after himself. Lucy deserved to be looked after. He just wasn’t sure how effective he was at both.

“Right, now that that’s over,” Lady Addems shoots a glare at Lucy, how could she be so blasé about this? How could she just not care?

“We need to talk about what took place in this room. As you could hear that was Diane’s last words, ‘Don’t trust Alfendi Layton.’

Diane was goodhearted enough to warn the officer that she trapped what was going on. You see Diane wasn’t a cold-hearted killer, neither was her father. They were both victims of a corrupted police force.

She wanted justice, just as I imagine you wanted justice for your families. You see, I’m not trying to glorify these people, I’m trying to show you who the real victims are.”

The dead, the dead were the victims, those who had been murdered. Those who had been almost murdered, like Lucy, like him.

Yes, Keelan was a victim, but he’d also been a killer. Justice was complex but there was one thing that Alfendi was sure of. Keelan had it coming. He and Justin were to blame. They’d made choices, conscious decisions leading to this.

How dare Lady Addems try to pin this on him, on Lucy. Even on Barton or Hilda or Diane? His face revealed everything, the Lady makes eye contact with him as she continued.

“Keelan was just trying to provide for his daughter and Diane was just trying to get justice!” Everyone stared at her, enthralled, “you can tell this from the way she tried to save the officer she entrapped.”

Poison gas and bullets aren’t saving, Alfendi glances at Lucy who shakes her head. She’d started trembling again. Helplessness hurt.

“What happened to the officer? Why isn’t she or he mentioned?”

“Oh, they didn’t do anything.”

Lucy had a vice-like grip on his wrist, “don’t,” she whispers. He tries to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t glance at him.

“What do you mean?”

“They solved a case that’d been solved years earlier, hardly anything remarkable. They play no role in this tale. Now, if you’ll follow me, I managed to get an interview with Justin Lawson. The officer who was helping Keelan.”

The curator sweeps out, people following quickly, Alfendi tries to hang back but Lucy marches on forward, the brim of her hat pulled down far to cover her face. She wasn’t going to let the Lady know how much this hurt her.

As soon as they were out Alfendi was getting the Lady arrested. He didn’t care what the cost was, at this point, he’d seen enough.

Still, Lucy’s actions had a point, they needed to finish the tour and possibly not make more of a fool out of themselves. At least, he hoped that’s what they meant and she wasn’t mad at him for not saying anything.

Sometimes he missed Diane as his partner. The constant bickering was just way easier to deal with. He knew what to say and what to do. If Diane were here the Lady would probably already be behind bars.

Lucy was right about lawyers though. She thought these things through, sadly.

Justin’s voice bleeds from the next room. Al hesitates but Lucy drags him through. They needed to find somewhere private and just talk.

“I couldn’t kill him,,, so I shot him. The coma was lucky, I had time to brainwash him.” Lady Addems flips a switch, and the voice stops.

“Within this room is everything Justin Lawson said to me during our interviews. I met up with him over the course of several months. I have an audio recording of him.” She flips the switch; his voice starts again.

“I found this book a little while ago in this charity shop and I used that. While unconscious he had no way of defence.” The switch is flipped back off.

Oh, he was so angry but if Justin had actually spoken to her maybe there was a clue in here. Why had Justin done this? What if he’d let slip what was actually wrong with him?

Lady Addems drones on but he found himself being drawn to the walls, where she’d framed the more interesting points of her interview. He went through how he backstabbed everyone. How he lied to Barton.

It placed him in a sympathetic light, how guilty it was but it also revealed new information.

Lucy lets him, following him through the room, seemingly still stuck in her own daze.

“Prof,” she lets go of him, he keeps browsing, barely caring he was being called, “prof?” she prods him.

“Ow,” Al glares at her, and then notices, no one else was there.

“They’ll miss us.”

“You go, I need to know what he said.”

Her scepticism was fair but she didn’t have to look so judgemental.

“Lucy, please, I need to know why I woke up like this, why he’s here. Why Justin betrayed me.”

“He’s a liar Prof.”

“All the best lies hold hints of the truth. Please Lucy. You can cover for me. You’ve done it before.”

“They’ll notice.” She states, looking into his eyes, “Alright Prof but mark my words, this won’t go well.”

“It’ll be fine,” he moves to the screen on the left wall, trying to figure out how to turn it on, if there was a video of Justin so he could watch the traitor's body language.

“It won't, and Prof?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Fendi ain’t any better than you. Or worse.” She adds the last bit as an afterthought.

“I know, now go before they notice.”

“They’ll notice,” she runs off anyway.

Florence hated this place. What kind of museum had no maps? Then she notices the cameras covering the walls. Oh.

She was complaining to Barton. He was never sending her on one of these stupid jobs again.

Making her way back to Chelmey and poking him awake she explained the situation, “and I don’t think Alfendi is going to be helpful. I think he’s going to kick off and Lucy won’t be able to keep him in line.”

“Good coppers don’t need to be kept in line,” Chelmey sighs, “I told Barton, don’t promote him and what does he do?”

“Promote him?” Florence guesses.

“Exactly.”

“I don’t think he’s a bad detective,” she starts. Trailing off as Chelmey stares at her, unimpressed.

He was so old, wrinkles practically carved into his skin, sagging white hair, clinging to his head. Maybe it was the mustache, she’d always found them commanding.

It was funny really. She had every suspicion that Al was capable of killing her but without a moustache, he just, didn’t scare her.

Mostly. Sometimes his yells still shocked her into dropping a test tube but not so often anymore.

“You’re right, he can solve almost anything. He’s very talented but he’s not good at people, never has been and you need that. People have to trust you to tell you the truth. Now come on, you made it sound important,” he fails to stand alone.

Florence offers her IV, “I haven't tried this way,” she heads off, Chelmey in tow, “he’s been a lot better since Lucy joined.”

Silence for a few minutes. Florence wondered if he was upset, she was defending Alfendi, “who’s Lucy?” he finally asks.

“Barton hasn’t told you?”

Silence again, she glances back, he didn’t look like he was about to answer anytime soon… She could fold. His commanding presence demanded it but she already knew Lucy’s story, she didn’t know his.

The squeak of her IV wheels seems to finally wear him down, “Barton hasn’t spoken to me since Alfendi got shot,” he admits.

She stops, staring at him, “Were you upset when he woke up?”

“No, since he was shot, well, a few days after.” He keeps walking, now Florence was following him, and he moved quickly, way too fast to be fair.

“Professor Layton was a dear friend.” He admits, “I promised I’d take care of his children. His life was dangerous sometimes, I didn’t want to see anyone hurt…” he sighs.

“You see, being a detective, sometimes the cases you can’t solve haunt you, sometimes those affected keep coming back, demanding closure but he never did. I didn’t promise lightly…”

“And then Alfendi gets shot.”

“Barton promised, he promised this was just a job for him. That he’d stay in the office byt when his talents started showing Barton insisted, we should encourage him. I said no but he ignored me!

He promoted Alfendi and then he gets shot. So, I went round, and I told him exactly what I thought of him…”

“it wasn’t Barton’s fault, he was there, he tried to-“

“I know. I called to apologise but he won't talk to me. I’d already retired, and he wouldn’t see me. He wouldn’t accept any apology. I messed that up,” they reach two doors, “we should split up.”

“No! I mean, I want to know more about this.”

“At the expense of your friends?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re finishing this later,” she takes the left door.

“My pleasure,” she hears him mutter as the door swings shut behind her.

#professor layton #alfendi layton #fanfic #layton brothers mystery room #lbmr #lmbr fic #lucy baker #jigsaw museum #florence sich #inspector chelmey

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yeah-they-call-me-d · 1 year ago

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today, i have been thinking a lot about if that first night would have went different. what if you hugged me? what if you held my hand? what if you kissed me? would i have felt your love, or is it my naivety speaking?

in my head i had this thought that you loved me, but it was far less than that. you didn’t love me. the saddest part is that i was in love with you. i tried so hard for so long to have love reciprocated, but it was always about having the “worse” thing for you. honestly, i was fucked up before, but always competing for last place against terrible people made me think i was more awful. i think for a very long time i embraced that i was awful. l am slowly learning, through extensive therapy, i am a genuinely good person. i made very poor decisions, i acted rashly on a lot of things. i fell in love with someone who told me multiple times i just wasn’t it. i sat around 6 years ago waiting like a sick animal for the small gestures. they came, but far too late. i had already convinced myself that i did not win against the a***’s and the p******’s of your world. that may have been the smartest decision i ever made. i don’t win to them. you may not love them, but you are forever drawn to them. you’re a moth to their flame and i forever dimly burn in a distance too far to feel the heat, too far to see the embers. i am a different person than i was 10 years ago. that makes me sad. i don’t know when my life flipped upside down. it wasn’t your fault, but you were the vehicle i tried to escape with. i clung to you for the hope of feeling less alone. little did i know, that vehicle drove straight into a wall. i think i fell in love with you because i felt a lot of similar energy in the way you spoke. that may sound narcissistic, but i felt fully seen with you. the problem is, being seen and despite all of that, continuing to watch you give the attention that i so desperately needed from you to other people made me feel so small. it has always been like this. i always tried to hold my past relations close to the vest because i did not want to hurt you. then you consistently told me things about the people you’ve fucked around with. do You really wonder why the tables flipped and i threw every single person i had slept with, dated, saw naked, etc down your throat? i was so incredibly hurt by you. i was going out, but by god i was going to go out swinging. you can have the p******’s and a***’s, if that makes you happy. that was never my problem with it. my problem always was, We could have been so good for each other. you balance me out in ways that i haven’t ever experienced. the problem with you has you have always been one foot in the door but you never come in. you keep the door open, but you never let it shut. whether you are on the inside or the outside, at this point i don’t know if i prefer either or. they both hurt in a different way. if you come in and close off the rest of the world, i have to face every shitty thing i have done. i have to 100% come clean to what i have done to wrong you. i am okay with pulling the ground from underneath my own feet. i am okay with admitting my faults, taking the accountability in the situations i have created. i am fully aware i have done bad things. whenever i do bad things though, it always seems to stem from trying to catch you. you don’t want to be caught, and you especially do not want to be caught by me. the other side is you completely close the door. sure, i probably will move on, i’ll find someone i can build a life around. the problem in that is my hearts never going to fully be in it. i will always long for you, but again, you have never wanted me.

i have really thought about the fact that we were “never together” in your eyes. i look at all the things that happened, and i genuinely wonder how you could have ever thought that. i was going to introduce you to my family. i was going to come out to them with you. i was so sure of you. i brought you into my friend group, that at the time was so closely knit. i loved those people so much and they opened their arms so wide to you. you got mad at me for the brief period we spoke with each other for calling it a situationship, but what else was it if not that. i thought it was more than it was, but you were only in it because you were physically in it. you weren’t in it for loving me, the situation was pushed upon you and you rolled with it. i don’t fault you for that. i just wish you would have stopped me and said “we aren’t together, you know that right”. i went so long feeling so slighted by you, feeling so abandoned and unworthy of love. the more i reflect on this the more i realize that being in love with you has been one of the most mentally trying experiences i have been through. i guess that speaks volumes on i haven’t faced much emotional hardship, trauma, etc. but it really has hit a core piece of me. that piece is so fractured from all the push and pull. Why couldn’t you just say you loved me? Why did it always have to be this push and pull? Why was it always me fighting for you? When in any of this were you planning to fight for me? you never loved me. you never cared. i am starting to really genuinely believe that you are incapable of loving someone. for someone like me, who wears their heart on their sleeve, it is so emotionally damaging. i have always gone into anything with you willing to give you all i have to give. you may have thought you did the same, but i was always on the sidelines fighting to play the game. you had written me off so early on. i think you only ever really wanted me because you were scared of losing the person who fought so blindly for you. you didn’t want anything from me until i was leaving. that hurt so fucking badly. i deserved to be your number one, maybe that’s my ego speaking, but i genuinely gave you every piece of me. i opened up to you completely. i told you all the dark pieces. i realize now, i will never give that to any relationship i am in. i feel like the problem in 99% of the shitty things that happen. you pointed the spotlight on all my insecurities and made me feel like even with them, you enjoyed me.

the worst part of all of this, is that i still am in love with you. i still miss you. i say i wouldn’t but i would put the same effort for you. i would land on my face again. there is no keeping my feet beneath me when it comes to you. i fall so hard, every single time. the problem is, despite me falling, you have never been there to catch me. you watch me fall and continue to walk away from me. you see me catch back up to you, just to fall and for you to walk away. the only time you turned back was when i got up and turned around. you have only ever wanted me when i turned my back to you. when i did what you had done to me repeatedly for so long.

i don’t know how to feel anymore. i crave you back in my life. i fear for what you coming back means. i don’t know if i am strong enough to handle what comes from you leaving again. you have left me behind so many times that i don’t even know if i would trust you enough to believe you would stay. i don’t think you ever would stay.

#+#i want you to come back #i just cant be hurt by you again #you were always the end all be all for me #i never was.

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distort-opia · 2 years ago

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So I was re-reading Devil's Advocate yesterday and I was thinking to myself like, man that Bruce sure has a convenient excuse to Do All That, if he knows that joker happens to be innocent of the specific crime he's being sentenced for. I've read your post about this story and I was wondering how you think Bruce would act if Joker ever were to be sentenced to death for a crime he 100% did commit. Perhaps he'd suddenly take issue with the concept of the death penalty in general? I'm curious to know if you have thoughts about this. (also anonymous bc of side blog, but this is badnewbie)

Hey, @badnewbie! A very good question, actually, and one I’ve more jokingly discussed as a fic premise in the past. It was kinda funny to imagine that Bruce would break Joker out of jail or something, but if I were to seriously contemplate his reaction to something like this happening... I do think you’re right, and that he’d most likely attempt something against the legal system itself.

My money is on him trying to overturn the assumption Joker is sane and in control of his actions. In Devil's Advocate, the prosecution manipulated Joker's ego in such a way that he took credit for all his previous crimes in front of the jury, and made it clear he was fully calculated and premeditated in doing them. Joker was found guilty, and could not plead the insanity defense anymore, because he couldn’t stand not being credited properly and didn’t shut up about it. He tries to go with the insanity defense later, but it's too late -- and after that, he does have an attempt to manipulate Batman into finding evidence towards his innocence. But then he gets carried away by the attention he's showered with, like a dumbass. On death row, Gotham's eyes are fully focused on him, and he likes it so much he refuses to even help Bruce in clearing his name.

So, if Joker got put on trial for crimes he did commit, and perhaps someone managed to manipulate him into taking credit for it, enough that he got found guilty... the first thing Bruce might do is try to challenge that somehow. Submit evidence towards Joker's insanity and/or inability to control himself, in a similar way he challenged Spectre's attempt at judging Joker for his crimes, in The Spectre (1991) #51:

He argues a very similar thing to Etrigan, in Batman (1940) #546:

And, even to Jim Gordon, in Batman: Cacophony #3:

If Bruce argued against Spectre and Etrigan that Joker is a sociopath, a kind of "unholy innocent" who is incapable of telling right from wrong, I feel that he might try something similar if Joker got sentenced to death in the context of a trial. He couldn't let freaking supernatural entities that judge the souls of sinners kill Joker, so I'm figuring the government is nowhere near as big of an obstacle.

However, to be entirely fair, I have to mention that I think it’s more complicated than that. I obviously got long in talking about why, so I’ll put the rest of my thoughts under the cut.

I think the above applies the most to Bruce in his earlier years. He had a lot more hope back then for Joker's rehabilitation, and for his villains in general. But now, after decades of fighting Joker, he’s more frequently referring to Joker as a force of nature, a curse, the personification of chaos. He’s got a hard time reminding himself that Joker is just a man, as Batman: Death of the Family extensively shows. In Batman: Endgame, he even tells Eric Border that Joker isn’t crazy, he’s “just evil”:

So, I do personally believe the timing would matter; the when of Joker being found guilty for a crime he did commit. If it's similar to Devil's Advocate, and the instances I mentioned -- which are all around his first decade as Batman -- I do think Bruce would try to save Joker's life with the argument of Joker's insanity. He might pull strings as Bruce Wayne to get Joker the legal help required to appeal the decision to put Joker on death row, and likely succeed. But if it happened in current continuity, with a much more jaded Bruce who’s given up on thinking of Joker as reedemable... trying to do this would be a lot more complicated, especially because of the pervasive presence of the Family. In the past he had excuses, even if flimsy, to save Joker’s life; and Barbara might’ve understood Bruce being law-abiding and not letting Joker die for a crime he didn’t commit, but it’d be a big reach to think she’d condone Bruce trying to stop Joker’s execution for a crime he did commit. And can you imagine how Jason would react? I’m pretty sure Bruce would have to do it in secret.

No matter how you look at it, Bruce doing something like that now would require so much hypocrisy and selfishness and lying to himself... because after all this time and the things Joker has proven himself capable of, he knows Joker can control himself. But there are things about Joker he cannot admit to, without admitting the same about himself. King alluded to this a lot in Batman/Catwoman (2021). The identities of “Batman” and “Joker” aren’t their pain given shape; they’re what eight-years-old Bruce and the unnamed man who fell into the vat of chemicals chose to make of themselves, to deal with the pain. Joker pretty much spells it out in Batman: The Killing Joke too, that he took the emergency exit of madness -- that he consciously did so.

But that isn’t how it works for most people. You don’t choose your response to trauma, you don’t choose mental illness. In Selina’s own words, in #9:

But Joker himself cannot believe that... and neither can Bruce. Neither of them can accept they have a choice. So they both believe it about the other, too; Joker thinks the only valuable thing about Bruce is Batman, and Bruce thinks there’s nothing more to Joker other than evil. They reject the other’s humanity and in the process reinforce and validate each other’s delusions. They help the other believe what they want to believe of themselves.

This is a whole other can of worms though, and a big paranthesis. What I mean by it is that Bruce’s capacity to rationalize his own and Joker’s behavior has been heavily tested by the passing years; and that I would much more prefer a story with an older Bruce having to deal with the reality of Joker lawfully sentenced to death. It’d be so difficult for him, because choosing to save Joker’s life would have to come with some heavy admissions and revelations on his part -- about himself, and about his feelings regarding Joker.

If he does choose to save him, that is. I can’t help but be reminded of the short story The Last Smile from The Joker’s 80th Anniversary comic. Joker recounts his one nightmare to Harley, and it’s literally the scenario we’re discussing: the insanity plea stops working and Joker is in Blackgate, on death row. At no point does he even mention Batman trying to stop it, or attempting to save him, so clearly it doesn’t occur to him Bruce would try. Just like in Devil’s Advocate, Joker is rejoicing in the attention he’s getting. He’s seeing it as one last gag, an amazing exit to his own show, because Gotham condemning him to death will always be a form of winning for him. Either Batman or Gotham killing him is proving Joker’s point, so why would he try to stop it from happening? He delights in the way he’s driven Gotham to be just as hateful and monstrous as him. The reason why the dream is a nightmare, is only its ending:

Joker is pleasantly surprised that Batman would even show up... and the worst thing he can imagine is Batman laughing. Laughing as he dies. Otherwise, it’s clear Joker himself doesn’t believe Batman would do anything to intervene if he rightfully got the death penalty, and this does seem to indicate he wouldn’t even try to get Bruce on his side or save himself.

And perhaps Joker is right; perhaps in the absence of any excuse to hide behind, Bruce would have to let Joker die. Bruce needs even the flimsiest of justifications to act on -- this stands true for all the other times he’s saved Joker’s life, too. But tragically enough, Joker would likely not give Bruce a reason to save him... I can entirely see Bruce visiting him in prison and trying to get anything out of him that could stand as a reason for not letting him die, and not getting it. Bruce would then have two choices: allowing for it to happen, or facing the fact he personally wants Joker to live, and save him for his own selfish reasons. Bruce would have to admit he cares and do something very drastic that’d inevitably alienate him from so many of his friends and Family members... which is a tall order for his level of repression.

To conclude and not make this even longer, I think it’d depend a lot on the story being told. There’s a younger, more hopeful version of Bruce who’d more eagerly believe his own justifications when trying to save Joker’s life from the electric chair, despite his more seflish, real motivations. But an older version of him would undergo some very heavy conflict... and the tragic reality is that, in the absence of the narrative or Joker himself giving Bruce a reason to save him, it’s more likely he’d let Joker die. (And it’d haunt him.)

But anyway, thank you for the ask, and I hope you enjoyed the ramblings! This is all speculation since it’s clearly hard to tell what Bruce would do, so I’d love to hear your thoughts as well.

#ngl I kinda want a fic of this now #but the tragic version where Bruce does nothing and Joker dies #because time would pass and Bruce would have to deal with the absence #and eventually he might realize his feelings for Joker but it'd be too late. far too late. all he'd have is another grave to visit #:) why do I do this to myself #asks #batman #batman meta #bruce wayne #joker #batjokes #batjokes meta #my meta

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llazyneiph · 2 years ago

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I thought EA would have addressed this by now so I didn’t mean to keep anyone hanging for 2 days but I’ve come to a decision about early access.

As I’ve always kept in line with EA TOU - I will continue to do so, I will be removing early access from patreon and replacing it with other ways to thank you for pledging.

All of my CC and smaller mods will be free from day 1 (which I did most of the time before anyway) For my much larger mods I will be taking a leaf out of SimRealists book and I will be holding beta testing on Discord with a version of the mod that is not finished enough for public release, then I will fix all reported bugs and upload the finished and final version for free either to my website which is currently being built or patreon if the file is too large (e.g. RM). Some of my mods are massive and need extensive testing (don’t even get me started on SURVIVE!... I have no idea how long that will take to test omg).

I think this is in-line with the TOU? Anything on discord is in an unfinished state and will not be the final version of the mod. If it isn’t then I will make sure to change it! :) I still really hope that EA makes a post legally defining this as the post is so vague and we’ve been getting mixed responses from the live chat (they can’t speak for anything on the legal side of EA anyway).

New Rewards

- I am currently looking into patron's physical reward system, e.g. stickers and stuff and seeing if that would financially viable for me. - I’ve also added small mod requests - Tutorial requests to one of my tiers (these are on tier 3 purely just because I wouldn’t be able to keep up with requests if I added it to the others)

Become a Modder series

I am also currently making a ‘Become a Modder’ series on Youtube to help people learn how to create mods for TS4! If this interests you, I would really appreciate it if you subscribed to the channel! I am also going to be making written tutorials too, if you prefer those!

New site

I’m currently building a new site on squarespace, where I’m going to be hosting most of CC and mods with their how-to guides and installation instructions all in one easy to find place! (I had such a bad experience with the old site that I thought it wasn’t worth it lol, but squarespace is going pretty good so far!) Hopefully I can enable adsense on that down the line to at least cover the cost of the site’s monthly hosting fee.

I hope you feel these new rewards are worthwhile for your pledge! I know many of you pledged to me just purely out of your own generosity and some of you have sent me the loveliest messages. I just want to thank you for that. Like, so much. I hope that no one feels like it was ever my intention to take advantage of the community or that I only made mods for money - that was never ever my intention. I made (the shittiest lol) cc for TS3 long before I ever got into modding, purely because I loved it and thought it was so fucking cool to be able to do that.

If anything I posted or if me waiting to see what the legal terms were surrounding this were left a bad taste in your mouth, I apologize. To be told you may no longer have an income when you can’t work is terrifying and I hope people can relate to that. All I could see was people no longer supporting me because I couldn’t offer early access but I’ve received so many beautiful messages and comments telling me otherwise. I hope I have still earnt your pledges and continue to do so.

If you’ve pledged to me in the past, or currently do, or plan to - from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I will always be transparent about the fact that I am currently able to support myself because of the kind people in this community and I am so grateful for that. Hopefully I will be able to sort my health issues out soon and get back into the workforce!

Thanks, Seb :)

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its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons · 3 years ago

Text

pairings: Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Mammon x Fem!Reader, Leviathan x Fem!Reader

warnings: tw abandonment (but it turns out okay, I promise), mentions of the act of birthing,

A/N: you came to the right place! as the second oldest of six children, I have some experience when it comes to pregnancy:) I hope you don't mind, nonny, but I'm gonna split this up into a few parts so I can do the dateables as well!

Lucifer

The moment you had shyly produced the positive pregnancy test from the pocket of your hoodie, it felt like Lucifer had entered into a fever dream filled with nursery designs, baby names, the expenses that pile up before the baby even arrives, researching human pregnancy, keeping you out of harm's way and healthy and happy...

So when you first stagger out of bed and rush to his bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth and one shaky hand on your slightly swollen tummy, Lucifer isn't surprised

He is very concerned, however. You had been so nervous to tell him of your pregnancy, you waited until the last moment before your bump was noticeable to tell him

That meant you had been suffering from all of these pregnancy side effects before he'd permanently moved you to sleep in his room

Lucifer hoists himself out of bed and pads into the bathroom, gathering up your hair, if any, into his fist and pulling your hunched form between his legs for support

You hate this feeling with a passion; throbbing stomach and a lump in your throat with little to no vertigo and tears rolling down your face as you try and catch your breath

You tell him it hurts, you ask him if he can take the pain away as your head rests on his chest, lashes fluttering with wooziness

Lightheadedness was unbearably common; you would suddenly grip his sleeve and he could watch the color drain from your face and your knees get shaky, body beginning to sway

He always catches you though, finding a place for you to sit or lie down and gather yourself

Tummy rubs become more common; the feeling of his hands against your bare tummy, spreading their warmth and nullifying the ache, allowing you to relax

He's extremely attentive as well and can tell whenever you need something

Water? Here's a cup sweetheart, remember, you're hydrating and eating for two people!

Craving something? Chocolate? Fried pickles? Chips of some kind? sweets? He's stockpiled anything you could want and locked it away just for you.

I feel like Lucifer would want your baby to be a little girl. A little princess he can carry on his shoulders and spoil with his love and gifts.

Satan ruined him for having another baby boy, but if that's how the cards fall, he certainly wouldn't mind. Unfortunately, he'd be constantly walking on eggshells, afraid he'll make your little boy into another rebellious child

That's the last thing he wants

Lucifer does his best to keep his kid away from Satan and Belphie and out of the 'Formerly Anti-Lucifer League', but sometimes you're taking a nap or out shopping with Asmodeus, and Satan and his brothers manage to coerce the little one into their shenanigans

One thing is for sure though, even if Lucifer didn't want any kids and the creation of one was unplanned, he would never ever turn you away

He's very responsible and does anything in his power to make the pregnancy as easy and happy as possible

On the day you are to give birth, he's a mess

He has already sweat through 3 shirts by the time the IV has been secured to your hand

Everything he says doesn't come without a stutter

He's squeezing your hand and kissing your hair during labor, trying to distract you from the burn between your legs as much as he can

You probably need extra stitches from baby's horns ngl

Definitely cries before the baby is even put in your arms

Refuses to let his brothers come and see you, "They can wait until we go home."

Lucifer is Smitten™

He smooches the tiredness under your eyes and tells you to get some rest

Surprisingly, he enjoys a lot of the names from the human world you discuss and will most likely pick one of those

But if it's a girl, her name is Lilith. I'm sorry MC, your input is invalid at this time

You don't regret 'final day in the devildom sex' at all when you get to witness the Avatar of Pride reduced to tears when the nurse puts the child in his arms

P-P-Pregnant? MC, ya better be jokin'...

Mammon

You weren't, judging by the pregnancy test(s) clutched in your fist

He's not mad at you, he's not upset, (in fact, he's the happiest he's ever been), he just scared

Broken Condom Victim™

He loved you just a bit too hard last week...

but let's be real here, HIS MC, carrying HIS baby?

That's like the highest level of ownership on his lovely human you could get! Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lucifer, everyone would be SOOOO JEALOUS!!!

AND

He gets to have a little one running around again!

You saw how sweet he was to babified Satan in the obey me anime premier! He LOVES little kids and nothing would make him happier than someone to play with (besides MC of course) that wouldn't make fun of him for messing up and being silly!

AND

You're so pretty!!

I mean, ya were always pretty, but somethin' about ya is different and yer even more beautiful than before somehow!

Mammon said, his entire face the shade of a pomegranate

Pregnancy glow is REAL

Asmo agrees, after stealing you away from an extremely overprotective mammon and hiding in the attic to chat without disturbance (mammon)

But as much as YOU know he would be the BEST father, comments from his brothers continue to drag him down and the evenings he cried into your shoulder became more and more frequent as your pregnancy progresses

Mammon, as we all know, is, in fact, a tiddy man

He likes to touch and squeeze them, and just gently hold them while cuddling or even browsing in a store, he'd just come up behind you and touch your boobs

(also, mammon likes all sizes, so if you have next to no tiddy like me, you'll be at his mercy as well. those with the large honkers, however, watch yourself)

Now that there's a miracle growing in your tummy, other parts of your body are preparing for its arrival, including your chest

Swelling, swelling, soreness, growing and darkening of the nipples, and swelling make it so Mammon can no longer touch your pretty tiddies :(((

(grammarly didn't like that word)

On the day mammon snack size was to be born, mammon is silent but extremely fidgety

It was early in the morning when you'd shaken him awake like, "mammoney, I'm going into labor" and he was out of bed and out the door with your luggage before you finished blinking

After grabbing your DDD's and you, he carries you down to the car (what dysfunctional family doesn't have a car? a nice one (Mercedes, Audi, you get the idea) for lucifer and a Volkswagon bus or something for his siblings to share) and drives quickly, but very carefully drives to the hospital, holding your hand the whole way.

He covers your eyes when they put the IV in, just in case you're squeamish, and rubs your arms as the drugs begin to take effect and there's a little fear in your eyes at the thought of pushing an entire human/demon being out of your coochie

He assures you and never lets go of your hand no matter how long you're in labor

When it's all over with and you are resting in your hospital bed waiting for the doctors to finish the Apgar tests and give you your baby

Mammon is speechless as the nurse places the baby in your arms

That's HIS KID!!

Immediately starts crying

The little horns poking out of the blanket? Those look just like his!!

Judging by the bit of hair on it's head, it looks like the baby will have hair like yours

If it's a baby boy, he thinks it should be named "Mammon II" but you just giggle and remind him of the deal he made with lucifer long ago, that his first born child, no matter the gender, had to have 'Lucifer' somewhere in their name

Human names are dumb, except for yours of course, so he searches for suitable demon names

The last thing he wants is a kid named Lucifer, so that will be the kid's middle name

He really regrets his past decisions now

Leviathan

"Levi?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

*leviathan has been KO'd*

No joke, this man is literally floored and didn't wake up for a while and you were afraid you had just slain the fucking Lord of Shadows

Some Henry you were

You had to call Lucifer in to wake him up because he was still flat on the floor a half and hour later

Mammon is more that happy to tip a bucket of ice water on the face of the son of a bitch that impregnated HIS MC

Levi wakes up and pounces on you, gripping you tightly by the arms

"You're k-kidding r-right?"

Him? A father?

Uhhhhhhh

Unfortunately, Leviathan.exe has stopped working, try again in two thousand years

I hate to say this, but he definitely detaches himself for a while until his brothers, especially Asmodeus, literally beat him into shape

He comes back to you, a little bruised and sobbing, but not from the beating he just received

He's so sorry he neglected you! He's such a horrible demon, undeserving of your welcoming nature

He's gonna be the worst dad, and he's not good enough for you, and his kid will hate him just like everyone else does, he doesn't deserve you, he's so sorry for making you suffer the side effects and feel all alone,

Sir, I-

FALSE

It's your turn to shake some sense into him, reminding him that he would be the. best. dad!!

Not to mention the fact that you were just happy he realized his mistakes and came back to you

He begs you to sleep in his bed tub with him for security, and you have to admit his tail is very comforting

Levi does extensive research on human pregnancy and now at the dinner table, instead of talking about the latest slice of life anime he'd been watching, he's just spouting random pregnancy facts and you're laughing so hard it brings you to tears

When the weird dreams and vivid nightmares happen, Levi is right behind you, rubbing your swollen tummy, and letting you talk about them

A lot of them were about him and about your future child

Most of them were about how they got hurt in some way, either that or YOU got hurt and the baby died

These, more often than not, brought you to tears and stress you out, but Levi is right there, okay? Nothing can hurt you, nor would he let anything happen to you on his watch

Learns how to massage you (safely) to reduce stress

Definitely talks to the baby a lot

Levi begged you to be induced so the birth was safe and not a sudden occasion and you agree

On the day the doctor recommended, you arrived at the hospital and got down to business

Levi didn't really want to be in the room with you, but he knew he had to for your sake and he'd played a few birth simulators from both perspectives and you really needed him

Kinda sits there awkwardly comforting you and encouraging you, holding your hand and caressing your cheeks, a bit flushed from exertion and tears

Listen

If the baby is a boy, his name will be Henry and that's final

If it's a girl, he doesn't really care, as long as you don't name her 'mammonia' or something dumb like that

definitely crashes your hospital bed to snuggle until the baby is ready

cries when the baby wraps its extremely small digits around one of his own

also at the little horns protruding from its head

and the tuft of purple in its head

Also Smitten™

He's so excited to get home and show off his beautiful baby to his brothers and then formulate a plan to raise the kid to live and breathe TSL just like his daddy <3

July 9th: VIP MEMBERS, GET YALLS JUICE!!

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lucacangettathisass · 2 years ago

Text

How The Light Gets In 2.0 (3)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

CHAPTERS: One, Two

Tagging: @ghastlyrider @rommies @janebby @wedonttalkabouthenry if anyone would like to be tagged lmk!

NOTES: So this where more major edits will be happening as I try to actually match events in the game with the events in the fic, as I got some things mixed up last time. You will all also get to see a pretty big change from the original story *eyes emoji*, I hope you all like it! I highly recommend installing the Interactive Fics chrome extension if you haven’t already so you can use it to change ‘[Name]’ and ‘[Last Name]’ to your actual name! Shout out and god bless to the maker(s) of that extension!

“Now, let’s see how well these clothes fit.” Miss Grimshaw said, holding up the garments.

The men politely turned around, in order to better preserver yours and Sadie’s modesty, but the idea of being undressed in the presence of strange men still made you flush terrible, and that feeling of mortification more than the cold made you rush to get dressed.

In the end it turned out that Miss Grimshaw had guessed rather well, as Sadie had a similar body type to Miss Gaskill. Unfortunately, while she no doubt went with Miss Jones for you as it appeared the two of you had similar proportions, it turned out that your bust was heavier and your hips wider, which only served to cause you embarrassment.

“We’ll have to get you somethin’ that fits better once we’re off this mountain.” Miss Jones said, handing you a coat to make you warmer, and to cover up the rather embarrassing amount of your chest that was on display.

“I’ve always had a little trouble finding clothes that fit.” You said, wrapping the coat around you. “It’s just one of those things.” You smiled, doing your best to hide just how insecure this frustratingly persistent issue made you. As a child you were “awkwardly shaped”, as so many put it. Of course you knew what that really meant, and the phrasing only served to make you uncomfortable whenever going to get clothes.

You settled back down beside Sadie, feeling much better now that you were wearing something warm. You truly were surprised at the kindness these people were showing you and Sadie, considering that they were meant to be outlaws, and you felt awful for prejudging them, especially since you’ve had to deal with people’s pre-convinced judgements of you all your life.

“So, if you don’t mind me askin’…” Miss Gaskill looked between you and Sadie. “What…what happened?”

Immediately you looked over at Sadie to gauge her reaction, and see if she wanted to speak. But she just continued to stare into the fire, face empty.

You gently placed a hand on hers and squeezed it. “Those men, the O’Driscolls, they said they just wanted some shelter. So we, well, Jake and I, we let them in.” You paused as a lump started to form in your throat and a startling realization came to you.

You were partly at fault for what happened.

If you had been as skeptical as Sadie and vetoed Jake’s decision with her, then none of that would’ve happened. You would still have a home, and Sadie would still have a husband.

“And, well.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat down, but it refused to move, forcing you to try and speak around it which only resulted in you sounding strangled. “I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

There was a heavy silence after you spoke, and you could feel the pity radiating off the others, and even noted the Reverend crossing himself. Even little Jack seemed upset, although you weren’t entirely sure if he understood just what was being discussed. If he did, that would just make it all even worse.

‘Lord Jesus have mercy me.’ You silently prayed. ‘On all of us.’ You would need to get a new prayer rope.

“We’ve lost some people too.” Miss Jackson said sadly. “We don’t even know where two of them are.”

“I’m sure Mac and Sean are fine.” Miss Jones said. “They always find a way.”

Knowing that some of them had hope made you smile and warmed your heart. You looked up at one of the windows and saw that the snow had eased up a little, and it looked like you would actually be able to walk through it without much difficulty.

“I’m going to check on Gladys.” You told Sadie. “I won’t be long.”

She only nodded, and you squeezed her hand before excusing yourself and venturing outside.

The stark contrast between the shelter and relative warmth of the house you had just been in and the open cold of the outside immediately made goosebumps form all over your body, but you ignored them and trudged your way to the snow to Gladys, who had remained hitched to the hitching post, much to your surprise.

“How you doing girl?” You asked gently, stroking her dark mane.

She whinnied, gently nudging your face.

“I know.” You said softly, doing your best to soothe and ease her. “I don’t know how much longer we’re gonna be here, but hopefully it won’t be too long.”

Gladys snorted, sounding a little skeptical to you.

“It never hurt to have hope.” You pointed out. You stroked her long face, fingers gliding along the black patch that formed a mask like pattern around her eyes. “Things are going to be different from now on girl.” You said softly. “These people were nice enough to take us in and it looks like we’re going to stay with them for a while, so you behave, ok?”

Gladys snorted again and stomped a hoof, but she still nuzzled her nose against your cheek, making you giggle. “Thanks girl.”

After a few more minutes of bonding, you returned to the house, and upon entering saw Miss Roberts engaged in what appeared to be a pressing conversation with Mr Morgan.

“Arthur please!” Miss Roberts pleaded, clearly desperate. “It’s been too long already!”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as Mr Morgan warmed his hands by the furnace.

You looked up and noticed another man leaning against the window. He was wearing a rather charming bowler hat and what appeared to be a thick shawl of some kind that covered his shoulders and chest. He brought a lit cigarette to his mouth, pausing when he spotted you.

His dark eyes slowly raked over you, starting from your feet, all the way to the top of your head, before going back to your face. His gaze was hard to read, something you’re not used to, but you could still feel the intensity. He brought the cigarette to his mouth again, slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

You felt your face flush with nerves and you looked away, back at Miss Roberts and Mr Morgan.

“I’m sure Marston is perfectly fine Abigail.”

Marston?

The name sent a jolt down your spine, and you could feel all the hairs on your body standing up.

“Just-please Arthur.” Miss Roberts clasped Mr Morgan’s arm, face desperate. “Please.”

Mr Morgan held her gaze, stoic and impassive.

“Come on Arthur.”

You looked back at the other man as he crushed the cigarette with his boot. “If it was the other way around, I know he would look for me. And you.”

That seemed to get to Mr Morgan, as he sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “Fine.” He grumbled. “Gonna need a horse though.”

“You can take Gladys.” It took you a moment to realize that the words had come out of your own mouth. You cleared your throat as all eyes fell on you, and you felt yourself flushing again. “I-I don’t mind. And she’s confident with this environment, she won’t let you down Mr Morgan.”

The older man looked just as surprised as you felt at your offer. “Ya sure?”

“Of course.”

He seemed to consider this, before sighing once again. “’Preciate it.” He looked back at Miss Roberts. “We’ll be back.”

And with that he and the other man left, with the latter giving you one last glance.

“Who was that with Mr Morgan?” You asked as soon as the door closed.

“Javier Escuela.” Miss Grimshaw replied. “He’s from Mexico.”

“And seemed awfully interested in you young missy.” Mr Uncle chuckled with a warm smile.

“Oh I very much doubt that.” You replied.

“Who’s the Marston they were talkin’ about?” Sadie asked softly, startling all of you.

“John Marston. Jack’s father.” Miss Roberts sat down by the furnace, pulling her son into her lap. “He’s been missin’ for two days, and, well...” She cast her gaze downwards. “I just want to know if he’s ok.”

You tried to tell yourself to remain calm. John Marston is a perfectly common name, it doesn’t mean anything. Not in the slightest.

You glanced over at Sadie, only to find that she was already looking at you, face hard. “I suppose we’ll find out, one way or another.”

You looked away.

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #Red Dead Redemption #red dead fic #rdr 2 fic #fic: how the light gets in (2.0)

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